I can’t remember a time in many years that I haven’t played the violin for church or a fireside for Christmas. What a nice tradition this is that I never set out to establish, but one that has humbled me and helped me to feel the sweet message of the season every year. I’m playing two pieces this Christmas and the arrangements are beautiful and the people with whom I play are some of the best musicians I have ever met. Where would I be without music and these friendships that come from it?
In high school I was surrounded by really talented violinists that made me see that I lacked in my ability. After 10th grade I no longer had a private teacher and I felt like an amateur among what I now realize was a remarkable and uncommon batch of gifted kids. It wasn’t until I moved to Texas in 1997 that I began to see that there aren’t many adult violinists. I began to appreciate that I could play well enough and not be ashamed of what I knew I still lacked. I am so grateful that I didn’t give up on my talent because of the greater talents of others. I have learned that my talent is enough. I’m the person in the parable who was given two talents, not five, but I have been diligent.
I drove to an elementary school a few weeks ago to introduce the violin to the student body along with other members of a quartet. I stood in front of hundreds of kids and played samples of many styles of music. I remembered my public school orchestra teacher and dedicated the effort to him. What a gift he gave to me with his teaching.
Last Sunday a grandfather approached me to ask if I would teach his granddaughter to play the violin. “She’s a great girl,” he said. I told him that I would consider it. I’m trying to decide if this elementary school performance and this conversation with this grandfather are the signs that I have been waiting for indicating that it’s time to begin teaching someone, even one person to play.
For now, I am being diligent about practice and trying not to get the shakes when I stand up in front of people to play. Richard says that he finds it odd that my confidence has not increased over the years after so many pieces in so many meetings. My confidence hasn’t improved because I think too much and my goal is to transport somebody in the congregation beyond their troubles. The result is the shakes and fear of fainting. But I haven’t fainted yet, so it would be reasonable for me to get over it. My nerves remain immune to reason and I predict that I’ll be a bit of a wreck for the next two Sundays and then feel great about the whole thing when it’s all over.
