Tomorrow...

Never mind about what people say about me.

Never mind if they have to close their ears.

Tomorrow, I'm going to pick up those drumsticks.

And I'm going to share my feelings with the rest of the world.

Maybe I'm a no-talent - that's what mom used to call me. I wanted to pick up that battered pair of drumsticks and play to a proper song - I hoped to play for the worship team, at least. I wanted her to know how profound my passion was. Dad wouldn't really understand - mom was the more musical half of the family. But before I could even share my heartbeats with her, she died. Now, I'm alone, with practically no guidance from anyone, and I wonder when these beats inside me will break free. Worse still, I don't even know what to believe - is she still with me ? Is her soul at rest ? Or is she taken away from all reach, forever ?...

Battered and bruised as my heart is, I've never lost sight of my passion for the drums, and even as I struggle to play, I know one day I won't have to struggle anymore. Maybe tomorrow the tears will fall incessantly. Maybe tomorrow, I wouldn't know what to feel. But all I do know is that tomorrow, I'm going to battle with my inability to play, the drums being my weapon of choice, and with the Holy Spirit by my side, I'm going to win this battle.