We had a piano at home when I was young but had to sell it to fix our roof which leaked whenever it rained. For a poor family struggling to survive, learning to play the piano was undoubtedly a luxury. I still clearly remember running out of the house when the movers came to take the piano away, angrily swearing to my mother that I would never come back. Of course, hunger eventually brought me home. Decades later, I can still clearly remember the tears in my mother's eyes. At that time, she felt guilty for not being able to give me a better start. Until I was nearly forty years old, after years of hard work, I could finally buy myself an electronic keyboard. However, I never dreamed that I, unworthy as I was, would have the opportunity to worship God with the sound of the piano. Even now, every time I participate in ministry as a pianist, it feels so unreal—every time my hands tremble with excitement and gratitude, grateful that God would choose to use me, this broken vessel. This is God's miraculous work in my life. Although God didn't choose to miraculously provide me with a new piano during my childhood, He miraculously gave me a platform to glorify Him decades later. God transformed my loss into a testimony, and my brokenness into a vessel for His glory. Every act of ministry is a reminder of grace—a reminder that the child who once had nothing can now stand here, serving God with music. This is not my own ability, but God's unimaginable grace. If you are currently losing something, struggling with something, remember: God's story is not over. He can use any broken vessel to accomplish things beyond our asking or imagining.