Trusting the Conductor
Have you ever found yourself comparing your life to someone else’s—not just the big things, but the everyday stuff?
Yeah. Me too. 🙋🏾♀️
I’ve watched people post anniversary pics with captions like “married to my best friend,” while I’m praying just to have one week without tension in my house.
I’ve seen other people’s kids hitting milestones, smiling in graduation photos, while mine are wrestling with real struggles—mental health, life choices, healing.
And I will not lie—sometimes it feels like their lives are moving forward while mine is trying to catch its breath.
It’s sneaky, the way comparison shows up. It doesn’t always barge in with flashing lights—it often whispers:
You’re behind.
You’re not enough.
You should be doing more.
And in those moments, I return to an image that has helped me stay grounded: God as the conductor of the orchestra, and me, just one of the musicians.
Let’s say I’m a violinist…
As a violinist, I have my own sheet music, tailored for my instrument. That music is my assignment, my calling, my purpose. My job is to study it, come to practice, pay attention to the conductor, and come in on time and on key. I’m not responsible for the cellist’s entrance or the harpist’s dynamics or the percussionist’s rhythm. I don’t have their music—only mine.
But guess what, God does!
God sees the entire composition. He knows when every instrument should enter, how loud or soft they should play, and when to crescendo or decrescendo. He understands the beauty of rests, pauses, and silences. Nothing is wasted in His score. He is the only one with the full view.
That alone brings me peace.
Still, I’m human. And I’ve had moments where I’m squinting at someone else’s sheet music, wondering why their melody seems to be flowing so effortlessly while mine feels off-key and overdue. But the truth is: It’s none of my business when the other instruments come in. I don’t know the full arrangement. My job isn’t to control the timing or compare parts. My job is to stay in position, trust the Conductor, and play when He says play.
“I am God, and there is no other… declaring the end from the beginning.”
— Isaiah 46:9-10
Just like an orchestra, the body of Christ is made up of many parts, and each has a unique sound and role to play. Some serve in the spotlight. Some hold it down in the background. I used to think my gifts weren’t enough because they didn’t look like someone else’s. I’ve wondered if my voice mattered when others seemed louder or more polished. But God sees what’s done in secret. Every note counts.
“We have different gifts, according to the grace given to each of us.”
— Romans 12:6
There was a season where I spent way too much energy trying to make sense of someone else’s highlight reel instead of tending to my own lane. And one day, God pulled me aside—like He did Peter. Jesus had just laid out Peter’s future, and Peter immediately asked about John. And Jesus, calm but clear, basically said,
“What is that to you? You must follow me.”
— John 21:22
Whew. Jesus clocked Peter’s tea in the most holy way. He didn’t sugarcoat it, didn’t offer a gentle detour. He reminded Peter that comparison is a distraction, and obedience is personal.
There’s also a rhythm to preparation. Musicians don’t just show up and play—they rehearse, they study, they stay tuned in to the conductor’s cues. That’s what my quiet seasons have been. Not punishment—preparation. Even during job loss and recovery from surgery, when I felt like everything slowed down, God reminded me: This is still part of the song. Even now, I’m conducting.
And let’s be real—not every part of our journey is meant to take center stage, under the spotlight or as a solo. Sometimes my role may be to support someone else’s melody. Sometimes it can be to sit in silence while God works something out behind the curtain. I don’t have to like it—but I can trust it. Because I’ve seen how He uses it all. Even the pauses. Even the tension.
“And we know that all things work together for good of those who love God and are called according to His purpose.”
– Romans 8:28
So I’ll keep playing—even if the notes feel small, even if nobody’s clapping, even if I don’t fully hear the harmony yet. Because I trust the Conductor.
And He never misses a beat.
Have you ever felt like you were stuck on the same page while others were playing a whole symphony?
I’d love to hear how you’re learning to trust the Conductor in your own life—drop a comment below.