God’s Work Is Not Always What I Expect

Someone asked me the other day what God is teaching me through Renovare’s work. At that moment, I actually felt a little discouraged.

I started thinking through the work that Renovare does and began focusing on the negative aspects of teaching music in prison. Not because it’s hard for me to go inside the prison, but because of the limitations of the space and how that affects learning a string instrument. I thought about the challenges the Renovare trio faces as we try to teach ~30 men and women of varying skill levels in a 90 minute class every week at each facility. The challenges are real and sometimes make me wonder if it’s actually worth it to try to teach such difficult instruments in this setting. 

But then I talked to one of our violinists at Grafton, Martin…

He told me about his recent trip to Columbus where he was getting treatment for his cancer. He shared that while he was there he’d put in a request to see an old friend, Jack, who used to play violin in our Unmuted class, too. To Martin’s surprise, the hospital accepted his request and he got to see Jack.

Jack is paralyzed on his left side due to a stroke. But Martin was determined to give him an opportunity to play the violin. He told me how he was able to place a bow in Jack’s right hand and hold the violin up to his chin on his left side while Jack moved the bow back and forth on the string. Martin placed his fingers on the violin so that Jack could (in a way) experience playing the violin once again. As he played, tears began to stream down Jack’s face. 

The nurses who witnessed this scene then asked Martin to play for someone else who was close to dying. Martin discovered that this man’s favorite song was Amazing Grace, and so Martin played it for him - over and over again, as the man cried. 

As Martin shared these stories with me, his eyes watered. He said that he had hoped that his two weeks in Columbus wouldn’t just be all about him - about his treatments, his pain, and all the negative aspects of his life. Martin had hoped for the two weeks to be about something or someone else. 

And they were. 

I teared up, too, as I remembered in that moment how doing hard and uncomfortable things can make an impact. But, it doesn’t always look like what I might expect.

Martin’s story reminded me that Renovare’s impact goes deeper than whether or not all of our incarcerated musicians can play their instruments perfectly. And that is what God is teaching me. I don’t decide what I think impact should look like - that’s not my job. I simply obey Jesus’ call on my life and do my best to be His hands and feet. And for me, that means bringing my violin into prisons.