I've only been in a proper hairdressers chair twice in the last 2 decades - once was today. It wasn't a snap decision, it would have happened last week if the hairdresser wasn't on holiday, my hair was simply too long. Hence, we crossed over the road as we wandered past... and then I couldn't say no.
Inside the little salon sat a woman waiting, outside, moments before we arrived another lady stopped her bike, and yet the hairdresser sent them both away. She had an appointment booked and the client was late. Then she saw my hair and you could see her fingers itching. Client or not she knew what she wanted and within 2 minutes I was in the chair and she was scurrying round for combs.
The client turned up and waited patiently as she slowly tweaked and polished the initial cut. Before she declared it done he went for some air and excitedly she asked it I wanted it styled too... her eyes gleamed with ideas. I visualised Pinterest boards full of intricate plaits rifling off through her brain. It wasn't hard to say 'no', it was impossible. The original client came back in and was rather good natured about the whole thing as a slow plait started to spiral round the top of my head. Thankfully she tied it off prematurely before ridiculous liberties were taken.
Excitement is hard to turn down. Earlier today I read again Philip's excited call to Nathanael to come meet Jesus, and his boldness at trying to introduce the Greek men to a possible Jewish messiah. I imagined him with a similar look of excitement to the hairdresser, feet itching to fetch more people.
When did I last get that excited about the faith I hold, that I would throw reason to the wind and simply have to peruse my passion?