(Having a 6 month old baby makes it hard to find time to write new stuff. This is a short story I wrote a few years ago that I decided to add to my blog.)

With great contempt, she sat in the back row poised, proper and tight-lipped with a strained mousy face watching the young man sing.

He was a wild soul and his arms were flailing fanatically. His movements were unnatural and jerky. He was overly flamboyant to a comical point (and she had to chuckle cruelly at his expense). His hair was too styled and obviously bleached; body piercings were all over his face and God knows where else. He was dressed all in black, adorned with a heavy gold chain which held a huge gaudy crucifix (she could even see Jesus' tortured expression from her seat) which bounced off his chest as he jumped erratically in front of the congregation.

But the pinnacle of the whole spectacle was his eyes. They were hypnotic. Big. Blue. Full of unbridled passion. Not soft, but piercing as they darted to and fro seizure-like and quite alien. His eyes were desperately bursting with something and it was driving him deeper and deeper into a frenzy.

His voice was quite melodic, but his driving mission caused him to become unaware of the accompaniment or the fact that he was going off key and loosing his sense of rhythm now and then.

She stared into his passionate eyes imaging the deep sin that must be hidden in there.  After a time she came to the conclusion that before he became re-born he must have been either a big time drug addict or a pimp or perhaps even a flamer; whatever it was he did, he did it big. Everything this guy does he obviously does wholeheartedly; and she wondered what kind of demons he had to battle with at night..... and if he ever gave in.

In his peculiar way, he was quite a striking young man.  She found her attraction toward him no surprise since she always went for the bad boys or the weirdoes.  Of course, that was before she was saved--but people who feed their flesh instead of the spirit eventually end up feasting upon their own vomit.

The man was finally out of control; somewhere way out past cloud nine.  No longer amused at all, she was actually embarrassed for this man.  What must people be thinking?  Looking around there was no visible signs of contempt toward him in this audience, but of course they are in church, and it's people's duty to at least act polite and supportive.  She could feel the tension choking her.  She supposed it was an assault shared by every person in the room.  So why couldn't he feel it and stop this freak show or at least tone it down? 

Suddenly she got a great urge to save him--to pull the curtain and end the show.  She wished she could make him disappear.  She could not stand by and let this poor misguided soul make a fool of himself, leaving the congregation uncomfortable about the incident for weeks to come.  And the humiliation he would feel once he realized what people really think--it could send him spiraling into a serious crisis of faith.

She felt dizzy and looked around for the nearest exit.  She had every intention of slipping out of the sanctuary unnoticed.  But unexpectedly a great heaviness seemed to ascend upon her as if her body was falling asleep, but her mind was wide awake.

She became aware of a great longing; an uncontrollable need that was emanating from the deepest part of her chest.  An urge that felt so alien... to find his eyes.  She was confused by the ridiculousness of the whole situation and the strangeness she felt bubbling up from the depths of her soul.  She wondered if she was under some kind of demonic attack, but was more convinced that she was dreaming and would have pinched herself had she been able to move.  Yet she was surprisingly calm and relaxed.

Through her strange dream state she became aware of him now sitting on a stool, center stage, guitar in hand strumming a passionate love ballad to Jesus.  She said a prayer of thanks that he had finally composed himself.

His eyes were closed as he sang, and his fingers picked at the guitar strings as his body swayed lost in worship.  Even so, the song was building and he looked like he could explode at any moment.  Out of the corner of his closed eyes tears were making trails.  His voice was beginning to crack, and his body was beginning to shake.

'Open your eyes!' her soul called out.  She needed to look into his eyes.  She asked herself why this was so important and felt an anxiousness that she was missing something.  Open your eyes!

The song was building and she was starting to get nervous again.  She waited in suspense for that spark to ignite his frenzy.  Oh no, here it comes! Open your eyes!  But some strangeness inside her wanted it.

She became distantly aware that she had tears streaming down her face stinging her cheeks, and her nose was running into her mouth.  How ridiculous I must look, she thought, but still she searched his face.  Open your eyes!

And when he did finally open his eyes, they were big, piercing and crystal clear.  And they were staring directly at her.  He seemed to see into her very soul and he was weeping.  She was mesmerized by his gaze.

Her eyes were opened and she was able to see his soul.  She saw a passionate man with an endless hunger.  He was totally consumed with his Lord--so in love with Him that he was burning inside.  She could see the flames.  She understood now why he looked so alien.  It was the holy fire burning blue in his eyes--something totally peculiar to this world.  She was hit with a vision of him praying and crying out, 'Hold me Lord, please, Abba Daddy, I'm weak with longing for your touch!'  She also saw the man's weaknesses.  He was headstrong and stubborn, at times wild and unbridled, but his thirst for Jesus was unquenchable.  He was God's mischievous, passionate child, with whom there was a holy love affair.  And freedom twinkled in his eyes.

In the midst of this revelation she realized he was looking deep into her soul as well.  And between his sobs of sorrow, he was crying out, "Daddy, Daddy forgive me for letting my heart grow cold to your children, make me to love others as you have loved me.  Set the captives free, Lord Jesus!  Set them free!"

Just then what felt like a burning inferno struck her body.  Down she went sprawled half on the floor and half on the guy sitting next to her, arms and legs flailing.  All eyes in the church turned to her in shock and wonder as she twisted and convulsed wildly on the floor under the power of the Holy Spirit.