I’ve been spending more than a few nights lately in seemingly endless sleeplessness, trying to sort out different events and thoughts. I imagine most everyone has such nights, when the brain kicks into overdrive while the body is failing to convince it that taking five and catching some Z’s would be the best course of action. When you start making a habit of it, though, it can be a cause of concern … not to mention functionality loss the next morning.
Two thoughts are occupying the majority of my staring behind closed eyelids. One is trying to work out how to deal with the hurt directly caused by those who once said they were the closest of friends, but whose recent actions have shown them to be anything but. I’d like to forgive and forget and move on, but as I’ve mentioned before forgiveness is always a struggle with me, be it of others or myself. Definitely a weakness; something to attack full force.
The other thought is on a more positive note. Next week, I’ll be meeting with a couple of people who I’ve never met in person, yet with whom I have exchanged e-mails. There is a common bond between us, one of faith, and from that another common bond: a desire to call home those who once embraced the faith, but now although not having abandoned it have grown indifferent. There is also a desire to bring forth evidence of how work done in days gone by, back during heady days of youthful exuberance, bore fruit then and bears fruit now even if those who did the work aren’t always, or often if ever, aware of how their efforts touched the lives of others.
I’m not into melodramatic statements, but it is no exaggeration to say if what I’m envisioning — a book detailing the lives and faith of these workers, the Christian pop and rock musicians of the ‘80s — comes into being, it will be the most important writing I’ve ever done. The potential to help them tell their stories and sound their call of how despite the personal and professional, and even spiritual, garbage hurled at them during their time in the spotlight they kept or at least returned to the faith is a humbling honor. These people were my heroes then; even more so now. Their story deserves to be told … no, that’s not strong enough. It demands to be told.
I’ll be using this space to keep everyone posted as to the project’s progress, fill in the details, and such. Any and all prayers will be more than appreciated. This is an opportunity to do something that truly matters, and it is only through our Lord’s grace that I will be able to do my part in this.
For this, I don’t mind losing sleep.