And holy obedience must walk in this world, not aloof and preoccupied,
but stained with sorrow travail .
Thomas R. Kelly
The Jesus Way conference was over, and I was relaxing with my wife at a riverside café in San Antonio. Being an introvert who had been awash with waves of people for three days, I just wanted a quiet place to dry out for a while before heading off to the airport.
But our tranquility was soon punctured by a mariachi band that began playing at a table nearby. We elevated the volume of our conversation, and I carefully avoided eye contact with the lead minstrel. The last thing I wanted at that moment was to be an audience of two for one of their loud songs.
The concert ended. The two musicians walked to our table. I looked away and then began a careful inspection of the condensation on my water glass.
“Do you want a song?”
“No,” I said, while turning my head to the man dressed like a bullfighter. “I appreciate the offer, but we just want this time alone.”
“Oh, I see,” the troubadour said with a smirk on his face and then propped his foot on the arm of an empty chair at our table.
“You see?” I said.
“Yes, I see that you are a jerk.” But he used a less polite term.
I looked up at the man as he continued to talk.
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