How It All Started

The Main Deck (the Drum Room is on the left)

It all started in a little room inside an old building on an island not far from the shores of Long Beach, CA.  It was the end of Summer 2006 and I had just up and moved from my third story apartment in Wheaton, Illinois, to a Christian camp on Catalina, where they said they could use some help in the kitchen and where the Pacific Ocean was our front yard.  That little room, later to be known by all who lived on our crevice of the island as 'the drum room', had windows half the size of the walls and a view to explain why. And best of all, inside the window walls there was a shiny red drum set.  This place, Campus by the Sea, was my home for one amazing year and the drum room was where I learned to play.

View from the Drum Room

Not long into my stay at Campus by the Sea, I meandered into the drum room with a couple friends one day. Even though I couldn't play the drums at all, not even a little bit, I liked being there.  We had some guitars in the room and in general there was a very musical feel to it.  And, like I said, the view wasn't too shabby either.  So we fiddled around a little until one of my friends asked me if I wanted to learn a beat.  Um, yes please.  He showed his wife and I a basic quarter note drum beat and it looked so simple, so straight forward, so easy!  Then I sat on the stool and tried it for myself and for the life of me, I could not figure out how to get my hands, legs, and feet to do different things all at the same time.  I was convinced it was impossible.

The Shiny Red Drum Set 

As a last resort, I tried going through the motions in slow motion.  I literally forced my limbs to move at the will of the messages my brain sent them, at the speed of molasses.  This seemed to do the trick.  Soon, my brain and limbs had found their groove (for the pun-lovers).  I could move to make a beat without having to think about it.  Thus ended the peace and quiet of Campus by the Sea.  Technically, I lived in a cottage at the top of the canyon.  But the drum room was my true home. I'd be there after work, before dinner, after dinner, on my days off. In the winter, I was there with frozen fingers, strumming and writing and, with earphones plugged in to my boombox, playing some song on the drums that was light years beyond my skill level.  It didn't matter. It was music. I was playing music.  The reality of that was, to me, more unbelievable than the view.

Photographic Evidence

It's been six years since that first day in the drum room. With the exception of about a year and a half of drumlessness (sad!), I've played regularly since then.  For the past few years, I've played with the worship band at church. There's a verse in Ephesians that talks about God being able to do exceedingly abundantly above all we can ask or think. Well, it's true. My drum story is proof.  I don't know why He did it, but He gave me a gift.  It's a gift I will never ever take for granted.  And this gift He gave me, it's something I can give back to Him.  It's a reciprocal delight.