For the past two decades I’ve played violin regularly in the churches we’ve attended. (We moved a lot, so those have been numerous.)
“Oh, thank you,” I said, feeling somewhat accomplished.
Then she abruptly added, “You’re not that good.”
I howled with laughter. “I know! Compared to all the wonderful players
out there, I’m quite mediocre!”
“Yes, but I can tell you play from your heart.”
“I do,” I said, hugged her, and proceeded to pack up my violin.
To this day, when hubby and I share this story, I can’t help but laugh. And believe me! If I was on the pride-climb, THAT knocked me down a notch or two.
Honestly? I’ve always been a “second fiddle.” That expression implies
second place in any given situation.
When a person plays the violin, however, this could mean one of two
things: 1) Second chair next to the first violinist who is concert master/mistress
in an orchestra, or 2) Second violin—either first chair or second chair, the
latter making one second fiddle to the second fiddle first chair. Confused yet?
Most of my violin playing life, I played second violin, first chair or
second chair. A legit second fiddler! I didn’t mind not being the best. To be
honest, I never practiced hard enough to be anything better, much to the
chagrin of my mother who tried multiple means to encourage me to do better.
In our family “second fiddle” went further. My sister arrived first. She
excelled in most everything—beauty, grades, style, AND decorum.
Four and nearly a half years later I showed up—fair in the looks department, average
grade-wise in the subjects that “counted,” dressed in big sis’ hand-me-downs,
and with a foot in my mouth more often than I wish to admit. I honestly liked
my position and didn’t often grumble about it. (After all, how could I grumble
with a foot in my mouth?)
Are you a “second fiddle?” Not the best, brightest, richest, most
popular? The list goes on. That’s okay. The problem comes when one isn’t
content with this position—or any position we’re placed in.
As far as talents are concerned, God doesn’t expect us to be first in
everything but does want us to use our gifts well. If your best puts you in the
second fiddle chair of the proverbial orchestra, that’s okay—as long as you’re
doing your best.
Ironically, when we give God our second-fiddle best from the heart,
we’re giving him first place in our love, honor, and service to Him. How sweet
a “sound” that is to the Master!
As C.S. Lewis once said, "It is not important to succeed, but to do right. The rest is up to God."*
So, should you end up in second chair second violin, you’ll contribute
to the harmony needed to complete whatever lifework is being performed. The
“first violins” need you! Only then is a masterpiece complete.
Give of your best
to the Master—Give Him first place in your heart;
Give Him first
place in your service; consecrate every part.
Give, and to you
will be given’ God His beloved Son gave;
Gratefully seeking
to serve Him, Give Him the best that you have…
Give of your best
to the Master; Naught else is worthy His love;
He gave Himself
for your ransom, Gave up His glory above.
Laid down His life
without murmur, You from sin’s ruin to save;
Give Him your
heart’s adoration, Give Him the best that you have.
(from the hymn
“Give of Your Best to the Master” by Howard B. Grose, 1902, public domain)
#secondfiddle #violin #talents #givingyourbest
*from LENTEN LANDS by Douglas H, Gresham ~ Harper Collins, 1988
