About once, sometimes twice a week we drove past a girl walking from one of the local colleges to what I can only assume was her home or possibly work. She always had her backpack, sometimes a sweatshirt or t-shirt with the college logo and headphones. Always the headphones.
The first time I saw her was about a year ago and I only noticed her because she had her hands lifted, just a little, but I knew the position.
You see, I go to a fairly charismatic church. We don't speak in tongues or dance in the aisles, though the band will make you tap your toes and clap along. But many will lift their hands in praise. Not me mind you, I praise in song. Very loud, sometimes with tears, but lifting of hands, just never been one for it. (Maybe it's my sit in the pew with a huge hymnal upbringing that keeps my hands in my pocket.) But I digress.
As the weeks went by I would find myself tuning to the local Christian stations just to see if she was listening to one but knowing she could have just as well have been listening to an MP3. But sure enough when I tuned in to Air1 she was singing right along with the lyrics. For 30-seconds or less we'd be singing together.
And as I drove past and the climax of the song hit, I'd look in my rearview mirror and see her raise her hands unashamed. It always brought a smile to my face. I wish I was that free with my emotions. She was a reminder that praise doesn't have to happen at church or a ladies Bible study, sometimes just walking down the road you gotta let go and praise Him.