Page 119 of Share with Me

“God always answers prayers, Ivan, thought it might not be theyesyou’re looking for.”

“Good point.” Ivan figured he had to either keep praying or change his prayers to match God’s will for his life.

But what was God’s will for him right now? His entire career was in limbo until the cast was off and the prognosis was in. Until then he had to sit tight and wait.

Or should he figure out a Plan B?

No. He decided he didn’t want Plan B. All he ever wanted was to play the violin and that was it. God would have to give it back to him or else he had nothing left.

Or do I?

“Well, I need to get my beauty sleep. Take care, Ivan. Maybe we’ll see each other around. I’m still on St. Simon’s.”

“You are? Great. Would you like to come to our Seaside Chapel Men’s Bible Study sometime?”

“Sure. When I feel better I’ll give you a call.”

* * *

By Wednesdaythe mass student exodus from McMillan Studio was unmissable. Out of Ivan’s forty students only three stayed and only because they decided to switch from violin to piano. The rest of them—students and their parents—assured him that they wouldconsidercoming back to him when his wrist healed and he was able to play again.

What good was a violin teacher who could not show the students how anything was done? Besides, there was an unwritten guideline among music teachers that one didn’t steal other teachers’ students. As far as Ivan was concerned, once his students were gone, they might never return to his studio.

Sitting there at the waiting area of Rao Family Physicians, he wondered if he could even pay for this doctor’s visit. They hadn’t called him yet. He could still get up and walk out.

Several more email pings later, and Ivan snapped shut his phone, tired of reading all those “we’re sorry we have to go to another violin teacher” emails.

Two-thirds of his income came from his string studio. The other third came from SISO. Disability checks were one thing but his hourly income kept the three mortgages afloat. If nothing happened by the end of January, the bank could demand the loan balance. After all, they were already a month behind. He was surprised the bank hadn’t called.

How did this happen? What was he going to say to Grandma?

He had been intercepting the mail so Grandma didn’t see the inevitable. How long was that going to last? She’d find out eventually that they couldn’t make the payments, if she didn’t already know.

Maybe he was doing this upside down. Maybe he should have paid the primary mortgage first instead of the liens.

Maybe he should talk to an accountant. Well, accountants cost money. Maybe he could talk to Matt Garnett. Matt knew how to manage money. He could help him figure this out. Well, it meant Ivan had to show Matt his royal mess and live with the pain of embarrassment at his poor money skills. Or he could take one of those financial management classes at Seaside Chapel. They had them from time to time.

He looked around the waiting area, wondering how worse off everyone else was. He almost stood up to leave, but an interior door swung open, and a nurse called his name.

Oh well.

He and Grandma usually saw intern Tristan Rao, the son of Dr. Andrew Rao who ran the practice. Tristan attended Seaside Chapel and had started to go to the same Sunday School class as Ivan. He wasn’t in today because he was visiting his extended family in India. Other doctors and nurse practitioners were.

Ivan didn’t need to see Tristan personally. He was here to get his wrist X-rayed to see how his bones were healing and to get his cast checked. He was pretty sure he’d kept it dry, so he wasn’t worried about that.

Lord, heal me, please.

He hoped that God would answer that prayer here on earth. Of course, people were healed when they arrived in heaven, but he wasn’t ready to go there yet. He had a long bucket list to get to after he paid off all these debts he had.

His wrist cast would be off soon. He knew that Grandma Yun was praying for him too. Perhaps more intensively than he ever knew how to pray.

He also knew that Brinley was praying for him. She was still in Paris. She had texted earlier saying that she had missed him, but also that she would be spending the rest of January in Atlanta transitioning her position in her dad’s company to someone else.

By the time Brinley returned to St. Simon’s Island, his cast would be off. Then he could get back to playing the violin, right?

Thank You, Lord.

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