Have A Little Faith In Me by Brad Vance Read Free Book Online Page A

on the circuit with Jerry Lee Lewis and Johnny Cash.  But she was just as astonished as he was. 
    “I’ll only ever play God’s music, I promise,” Norman said.  He was a good child, a good boy, but like any observant child, he had watched and listened to the world around him and seen what kind of behavior would get him what he wanted.  The TV was unlocked for shows like “Touched By An Angel,” and Norman knew the appeal that would make his grandmother cry.
    “Oh, Lord, child,” Faith said.  “That’s wonderful!”
    “Well,” the Reverend said, “I don’t know.”  But this was for show, of course.  He had to remind them that he was the master of the house, and not so easily swayed.
    “Please, father, I’ll work extra hard, I’ll mow the lawn at church!”
    Faith and Norman Senior both laughed at the idea of Norman Junior pushing a mower over the massive grounds. 
    “All right.  If,” his father raised a finger, “you keep up your studies.  And you keep your promise, only Christian music.”
    “Yes, thank you!”  Norman would have made a deal with the devil at that point, if that’s what it took.
     
    He took to the guitar like a duck to water.  His grandmother was already his home-schooling teacher, so adding a music lesson to the curriculum was easy.  He’d been amazed when she’d shown up one day with a battered guitar case, and pulled out a beautiful Gibson acoustic guitar. 
    “This is the old girl I used to play on the circuit,” she sighed softly, looking at it like a lost lover.  “it sure has been a while.” 
    Norman watched her silently, recording the affection she had for the instrument. 
    She shook herself.  “Well, time marches on.  And the march of time, thank the Lord, has brought us the Korg.”  She showed Norman a device about the size of a pack of cards.  He was fascinated by the way the digital needle moved on the display as Faith plucked a string and adjusted its tuning key, until the needle was in the “sweet spot.” 
    After a few notes, Faith shook her hand as if burned and sighed.  “I used to have fingertips as tough as nails.  Well, I guess we’ll have to go get some picks.” 
    They rode through Marietta to Ken Stanton Music.  Inside the old store, Norman’s eyes lit up.  The way some people would gasp with awe in a jewelry store, so Norman felt in here.  He wanted to play everything he saw.  The drum sets, the keyboards, everything in the store was shiny and glossy and more alluring than any diamond. 
    Faith saw the look on her grandson’s face and smiled.  “I know that look, young man.  I tell you what.  You work hard and practice every day and when you’re ready, I’ll bring you back here to get you your own guitar.” 
    Norman looked at his grandmother, and his grin split wider than it ever would on Christmas morning.
     
    Faith was stunned by his progress.  After only a few tuning sessions, Norman no longer needed the Korg to get the guitar in tune.  She experimented with twisting the tuning keys way out of whack, and held the tuner out of his sight as he worked.  Sure enough, he sent the needle into the sweet spot every time, just by ear.
    He learned fast, knocking out “Amazing Grace” and “Red River” in no time.  She was hesitant to use the word “prodigy.”  It was prideful, for starters.  She’d been a prodigy, and it had led her down the garden path to sin.  It had taken so much prayer to have the strength to walk away from that life, and she swore to God she would keep Norman from even looking down that road.
    All the same , she sighed.  I know who’s got God’s gift when I see it.
     
    One day there was an event that seemed insignificant at the time.  But aren’t those always the ones that we look back on later and realize, that’s when it all changed?
    Until that point, the bedroom had been strictly for sleeping.  He spent his evenings in the living room with his father during “Family