I Will Make It

I’m sitting at my desk now, hearing the rhythmic beats of African drums roll out of the community chapel. The chapel stands less than 50 meters from my bedroom window, just beyond the remnants of the garden left by Nichole, one of the volunteers who lived here last year. I can hear the voices of the boys singing in harmony, singing of the Kingdom of God. It’s a beautiful sound that reassures me as my stomach tugs and pulls with aches, my body is over-warm from within, and my head feels a bit sore. The drums just began again, this time with clapping. This taste of music is short, but it encourages me. I will make it here. For now, I just need to get adjusted and regain my energy.