Page 194 of Share with Me

“What for?”

“For showing you that violin isn’t the only instrument you can teach. That life, as you know it, hasn’t ended.”

Ivan cleared his throat. “It only tells me that I should consider offering piano lessons in my own, uh, music studio. That is, if I ever rebuild it.” Ivan adjusted the velcro on his wrist splint. “Although…”

Willow smiled. “Why don’t we trust God to heal that wrist in a way that’s best for you from here on out?”

“I want a hundred percent. I’m not getting it.”

“Trust God that He has something better for you than theFlight of the Bumblebee. File that under ‘been there, done that,’ and move on to better things.”

“Might be easy for you to say.”

“You know as well as I do that violin is not your life, Ivan.”

“Jesus Christ is.” He knew, and yet in the fog of pain, he had forgotten.

“You got it. Take away the violin and you haven’t lost everything. Take away Christ and you have absolutely nothing.”

“I can’t believe my little sister is reminding me of things I should know already.”

“You know how it goes. The fog of war and all that. Cheer up. Remember how God saved you?”

Ivan could see Grandma Yun ushering him and Quincy down the church aisle, past the pews, to stand among all the other little kids as they belted out a medley of hymns in front of the congregation, hymns sung out of tune as every little pair of preschooler eyes were on Grandma Yun directing the kids, who could barely stand still let along focus on singing. Ivan and Quincy had always stood in the back, straight and tall, singing to the best of their vocal abilities and meaning every word of that one hymn.

Jesus loves me, this I know…

That afternoon twenty-four years ago he had given his little heart to Jesus, desiring to love God and trust Him for the rest of his life. And now why did he find it hard to trust God? Why did he doubt God? Why did he forget God?

You have some sort of trust issue.

Willow hadn’t minced her words.

She was right. Ivan had questioned everything God had provided for him the last four months.

God had sustained him since Grandma Yun’s passing, but he wondered what his future would be.

God had been healing his wrist inside out, but he complained it wasn’t healing fast enough. God had kept his hands intact, but he complained about not being able to get back to violin.

God had given him a place to stay at Willow’s house, but he wondered when he would overstay her welcome.

God had brought him to Willow’s studio to show him the possibility of teaching piano, but he had balked at it even if it were only for a short season in his life.

Questioning God showed his lack of trust in perfect God.

Ivan admitted now that he had been putting stock in his own abilities, his talents, his gifts, his hands, his fingers, his violin. If Grandma Yun were alive today, she’d be sad. Perhaps she had been and it had killed her.

Quietly in his heart, Ivan began to pray.

Forgive me, Lord, for not trusting you.

Ivan knew then what he had to do.

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