There we were in Mike’s Used Appliances. It’s small, but there’s hope in the air. We just might get the help we need here. We’ve brought our gas stove with the dysfunctional oven, but they also have reconditioned gas stoves if they can’t fix ours cheaply. We leave our stove there and head out for a quick bite while they evaluate the situation. We trust the man who’s figuring this out. He looks to have seen many a stove in his day.
A call halfway through our lunch – they’ve fixed our stove! Definitely the best solution. We return to retrieve it and pay up. In the midst of it all, I grab my harp and play something for Mike, who has just gotten out of the hospital and needs some strength. Meanwhile, a little girl from the neighborhood, maybe10 years old, wanders in and watches. I start to pack up the harp, but she blurts out boldly, “What about me? Can I have a song?” “Of course, of course you can have a song,” I reply. “Let’s go in here where it’s more private.” We wander into the makeshift office area where there’s a chair, and I settle in. I say, “Hmmm. What’s your name?” I’m praying, asking God for a song just for her. “Well, here goes,” I say, my eyes locking with her expectant ones. “This is a song God made right now just for you!” The song pours through my fingers on the strings, strong and yet peaceful, and she visibly brightens and smiles. “Thank you!” she exclaims, and she’s off, skipping through the door, back into the inner city world she inhabits. I shake my head in amazement at what God keeps on doing. “Go, God!” I sigh happily as I finally pack up and leave, with a stove with a working oven and a glow inside from the One who cares about us all.