The Little Drummer Boy

By Janet Morris Grimes –

I have this odd little quirk. Call it crazy. Call it focused. Call it annoying. Call it brilliant. Call it my attempt to slow down enough to absorb the message of something that matters.

I leave the television off, turn on my music, and listen to it on repeat. All. Day. Long.

It’s whatever I need to hear on a particular day. The music lays the foundation while the lyrics pierce my soul. I find it comforting Freeing.

Today, my song of choice was The Little Drummer Boy, by Jars of Clay.

I adored the television special as a child, until the part where the little lamb was run over by the ox cart. But later, as he is healed and dances to the music of the drummer boy, I melted. Every time.

Even back then, I recognized that this was the one true Christmas special that had nothing to do with Santa Claus, reindeer or misfit toys. It was the only one that focused on giving instead of getting, on Jesus instead of Santa, and on people instead of things.

Today, as I listened to the lyrics, minus the pa rum pa pum pums, I was fascinated by the simple message.

Come, they told me
A newborn King to see
Our finest gifts we bring
To lay before the King.
So to honor Him
When we come.

Little baby,
I am a poor boy, too.
I have no gift to bring
That’s fit to give the King

Shall I play for you?
On my drum?

Mary nodded
The ox and lamb kept time.
I played my drum for Him.
I played my best for Him.
Then, He smiled at me.

Me and my drum.

The Little Drummer Boy is a fictional story, but is still so very true.

All Jesus asks from us is whatever we have to offer. For this boy who was hurting, it was a song on a drum. Nothing more. Nothing less.

For me, it is my writing. It is all I have to offer, and the only way I know to give back to Him.

As the song says, “so to honor Him, we come…”

I will show up, bringing all that I have to offer.

And when He smiles at me?

I can think of no greater gift.

Me and my drum.

Pa rum pa pum pum.