I played my drum for him
a rum pum pum pum
I played my best for him
Pa rum pum pum pum,
Rum pum pum pum,
Rum pum pum pum
Then he smiled at me
Pa rum pum pum pum
Me and my drum

Little (Friggin) Drummer Boy

I love Christmas Carols. Their lyrics are timeless and sometimes reveal profound truths. But I don’t love all of them. Why in the world do we need that tearjerker Christmas Shoes Song? Mary, Did You Know is history’s most egregious case of mansplaining. And then there is the Little Drummer Boy.

Rum pum pum. Rum pum pum. As a mother of a child I would imagine to be a similar age, I am aware of the racket and chaos brought by the musical offerings of an elementary aged child. It’s loud and raucous. Your performer needs near constant applause and reassurance that they are the best drummer that has ever been heard. I can just imagine Mary, exhausted, dirty, and in agony in a way that only a parent of a newborn can be, looking at her baby she just finally got to sleep, suppressing murderous thoughts at the adorable 8 year old playing his drum for the Christchild.

And then I think of myself… What would I be doing at the manger? When I am truly honest, I, too, would be performing. Doing my best to sparkle, to smile, to be entertaining and bright. To show Mary and to show the Christ that I am worthy of being there. Hoping to get the sacred smile from Jesus that tells me I am worthy of his time.

When the angels appeared to the shepherds with the invitation to the stable, they were not invited to come provide a security detail. They weren’t asked to bring a lamb as a sacrifice, or to clean themselves up or change their lives before they arrived. They were simply asked to come. To bear witness. To marvel. To allow that moment, resting in the truth of what had just happened, to be enough. It was a gift, not a chore. An invitation, not an obligation.

What ways are you performing this Christmas? Where are you running yourself ragged to keep up the comparison game with others? What assignments have you given yourself that make you feel good enough, worthy enough, of the joy of the season?

Don’t forget, Advent is about peace also. Rest. Allowing yourself to be fully loved, even without the things you do to earn it. Do from the overflow of your cup of cheer, not from the harried belief that your actions will fill it up.