They look like devout Christians. I have a great desire to be around them, a desire not reciprocated. Why do they not have an interest in me? Oh wait. If I held this attitude, neither would I. I don't look like a devout Christian.
I'm lazy. I didn't want to grab a chair, so I knelt down to type away on my computer before going to bed. "Worshiping your computer?" he jokes. But really, how can I be scared of praying on my knees, worshiping the God I love, when I'm not afraid to kneel out of laziness?
I hide the book as he walks in. Must not let him see what I'm reading. Psalms. Must not let him know that I'm reading Psalms. Because that totally makes sense.
I do not fear kneeling, do not fear bowing, do not fear raising my hands, singing and dancing around the room. Alone. Fear not of the actions themselves but that I'll act for others, lacking authenticity. Fear that I'll have the wrong motivations. Fear of not being real, a fear that keeps me from being real.
I run into a family at church. Who were you again? Right! I remember you! When I first met you my impression was: these are awesome people! And this impression that has only ever increased. They always made an effort to get to know me, expressing an interest in me. They didn't change how much they cared based on whether or not I appeared devoted to God, what I did in my free time, what I believed. They just cared.
He looks around, down at them. All eyes on him. He loves them, is giving his life for them. What they will do or be will not change his love for them. How's that for being interested? A God who is interested in us even if we don't look like devout Christians, even if we're not Christians at all, an example I want to follow.