Excitement

Anyone who has seen me at a college football game knows I can get... a little aggressive in cheering for my team. I think one of my most inventive lines when verbally chastizing an official was "The stuff I cough up in the morning could officiate this game better than you." Not that I generally cough things up in the morning, but it's the point that...

At any rate, I cheer until I go hoarse, and that's before the game even starts. I get thrilled when I see an impressive play, I get dejected when I see an impressive play by the wrong team. I am vocal and involved. I do the same when watching a game alone if it concerns a team I root for. I once nearly punched a hole in the ceiling at my parent's house jumping up and signalling "Touchdown!" by... raising my hands straight up as I jumped.

I often come across as a very mellow person, but I can become a raving lunatic if sports are involved.

So, assuming that what I believe is true - that I, a sinner in hostile rebellion against the God of the Universe, was pardoned when God in His infinite mercy sent His only Son to die in my place, and that through this sacrifice, I am not only forgiven but adopted as God's son, destined to reign with Him through the countless ages of eternity - why can I barely muster a head nod to signify my agreement with these truths?

"Emotionally Constipated" is a phrase I glean from Disney's rendition of Tarzan, but it seems very appropriate for my plight and that of other Evangelicals I know. Why do these truths not light a fire under me until I cannot help but leap into the air, shouting praise to the wonderful God?

Why do I not shout for joy?

And worse,

Why is my first reaction one of shock-and then one of vicarious embarassment-when people do?