Marcus Redding Has Insomnia

What good was it doing to lie here looking up at the ceiling? The bed creaked as he got up. Lauren stirred. He went out to the couch and turned on the TV. But what was on at two in the morning? He clicked on PBS and saw they had a Sesame Street 40th anniversary show. His mind went back to Grandpa Sam. When he was a little kid, even before he went to school, sometimes he would stay the night with Grandpa Sam. In the morning he would let him watch one show, usually Sesame Street.

Marcus left the TV on and walked over to the kitchen table where Lauren left her laptop. He opened it up and clicked on the folder named “Pictures.” Then he clicked on another folder named “Marcus Family.” About three hundred picture files came up. Lauren had spent months scanning pictures from the albums Marcus’s mom had made. She tagged the pictures according to year and event and who was in them. So all Marcus had to do was type “Grandpa Sam” in the search field and there were all his memories.

He scrolled through the slide show. Marcus as a skinny school-age kid: fishing with Grandpa Sam, Christmas at Grandpa Sam’s place, on Grandpa Sam’s lap reading the Bible, arm wrestling, playing in the snow, a trip to Yellowstone. All of a sudden Marcus was not a skinny kid anymore, the next pictures were from their wedding, Grandpa Sam dressed in a tuxedo. But where were all the pictures from about age 16 until he turned 21? There were no pictures for about five years.

It didn’t matter. Marcus had plenty of memories from that time of his life. That’s why he couldn’t sleep. Ever since Grandpa Sam passed away those memories haunted him even more, so that every night when he fell asleep—if he could fall asleep—he had nightmares. The other night he dreamed about a former girlfriend. He stopped by her apartment to see her. He found her there with another guy. Marcus went back to his truck and got a baseball bat. He stormed the apartment and started swinging away while the girlfriend screamed for him to stop. Then he woke up. The worst part about this nightmare was that it really happened. So that made the insomnia worse. Even if he did fall asleep he could only expect these horrible reminders of the dark years.

Looking at these pictures helped him diagnose the cause of his insomnia: regret. And regret caused pain. And he wanted this pain to go away. He went to the fridge. There used to be beer in his fridge. Not anymore. But it would be pretty easy to get in his truck and drive about 20 minutes and he could medicate his insomnia/regret/pain with alcohol. It crossed his mind. He knew from experience this medicine worked temporarily, but the side effects were awful.

So he stood in front of the open fridge, suddenly caught in a battle between the Spirit and the flesh. Then he heard Lauren open the bedroom door. He watched her walk down the hall. She didn’t say anything. He stood there while she closed the door of the fridge, then put on a pot of coffee, then walked over to the table and noticed the pictures on the screen. She looked up at Marcus. He was still standing there facing the now closed fridge. She looked back down and clicked and typed a little then went to the living room. She turned off the TV and turned on their old CD player. She slipped in a CD of spiritual songs and turned the volume to “7.” The lyrics of “Wonderful, Merciful Savior” quietly filled the little apartment. She went to the couch and lay down. The smell of coffee and the sound of the song brought Marcus to his senses. And the battle was over for now. He heard Lauren mumble from the couch, “Look at the computer.” He angled the screen so he could see it. She had called up Ephesians 5:18-20 “And do not get drunk with wine, for that is debauchery, but be filled with the Spirit, addressing one another in psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, singing and making melody to the Lord with all your heart, giving thanks always and for everything in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ.”

The coffee was ready. He poured a cup and walked over to the couch. According to the clock on the front of the CD player it was 2:37 a.m. She sat up. He sat down on one side. She laid her head back down on his lap. He sipped coffee and listened to the music while she fell back asleep.

More about Marcus Redding’s journey of faith next week.