Hot air balloons, ten of them, glow bright against the night sky.
We’re at a balloon festival, and the balloons are tethered to the ground, but they are fired up in full glory.
“Can we go up close and see?” Gabriel asks.
We’re with friends, and this is our first time at the festival. It’s breathtaking. The size of the balloons. The colors. We join the crowd and wander close. The balloonists are welcoming. Friendly.
They answer question after question from our group of little boys. And as the evening moves forward, we end up at the back of the field, with a balloonist in the basket of a pink and brown balloon.
The gentleman tells our boys, my friend’s and mine, about ballooning. They learn a little about science. And as this man shares some of his experiences, they learn a little about life.
The husbands are gathered close, too. Listening. Learning. And when it’s time for the festival to come to a close, the balloonist offers an exciting deal.
“How would you like to help me take her down?” he asks.
Five boys hoot and holler. When he tells them to jump and pull the handles that dangle from ropes attached to the body of the balloon, the boys are on it in an instant.
The gentleman kills the fire and the boys guide the balloon down.
“To the right,” the balloonist shouts. “Then straight back. Good job! You’re doing just fine.”
Soon the balloon is deflated. It’s a river of color on the nighttime field.
As it turns out, the work has just begun and there’s a job for everyone. The balloon needs to be gathered. There’s an instrument to press out the air. There are ties. And then there’s the tough job of rolling the balloon firm and tight.
And while we work together, the balloonist shares more about ballooning. His voice holds excitement. When I’m close enough to see, I notice that his eyes sparkle joy, too. This ballooning triggers something deep in this man’s heart.
It’s his passion.
It’s powerful, these few moments that we’re sharing together. This man wants to give. He stretches his affinity, knowledge, the love for what stirs his soul, with others. He sees others who may want to know, to understand, to experience, and he reaches right in.
I want to be that way about sharing God’s love.
It may be lending a helping hand. It may be listening. It could be just taking the time to care for someone else. It may be sharing the gospel or sharing what we have with someone in need. It could look like and feel and be any number of beautiful things.
But I want to share.
Lord, my passion is to share about Your goodness and grace. Let me share Your love with others. With joy and excitement and exuberance as this man has.
Nighttime has settled hard and now we’re the only ones left on the field. The other balloons have been deflated and packed. The trailers are just red taillights that shine in the dark.
We bid the balloonist farewell, and we thank him for this special experience. Then we walk, as families and friends, back to our cars.
For a few gracious moments, another person’s passion drifted into our lives.
And I want my passion to do the same.
