A friend of mine who is 25 years old shared with me the other day that she is going through some sort of crisis of faith. Instead of being overly sympathetic, I inwardly celebrated. Perhaps a bit insensitive, I know. But her "crisis" further confirms for me the book I'm writing is worthwhile. I'm beginning to believe the content of my book will help this friend of mine and a lot of other twenty and thirty somethings as they wrestle with their understanding of who God is and whether or not they can trust him.
Tonight I'm writing from the ACE Hotel on 29th Street between Broadway and 5th Ave. The lobby is as happening and as loud as a dance club, and although the music is appropriate enough, nobody dances. The guy next to me inquired how I can get any work done here. I explained the noise and music simply gets me in the zone, and I have no trouble at all.
Sometimes the drowning of really loud music is the very thing that brings focus to the thoughts stirring in my head. At least it does for me, which is why I always need to go running with my head phones in. I need the music to help me forget I'm running, and to help focus my thoughts on processing all the stuff in life built up, waiting to be acknowledged and sifted through in search of solutions and direction. And when answers aren't found, the mess of my thoughts become my prayers.
Thankfully the guy beside me took the hint that I actually do want to get some writing done while I'm here. Rather than persisting in conversation, he returned to his food and chit chat with his guy buddy across the table. Too often when I attempt to write in fun, public places, I also become bait. It's nearly impossible to get any writing done when you have men hitting on you.
Back to book writing, with a reminder from the stairs of the ACE Hotel, amidst the chaos of life, everything is going to be alright.