What an indescribable joy to have all the girls, all the sons-in-law, and all the grandsons for five nights and parts of six days over Christmas. We ate our favorite foods, watched the right movie on the correct night, worshiped together at GCR, walked the lights at Centennial Park, gave and received generous and fun gifts, survived a broken garage door and a busted exterior water faucet, played ping-pong, fed the boys their first ever bites of Blue Bell Cookies n Cream, and gave ourselves headaches laughing so hard during five rounds of Taco Cat Goat Cheese Pizza.

I thank God for our family and for the time he gives us to spend together. Blessings upon blessings of his grace. Thank you, Lord.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The lyrics to The Little Drummer Boy are sparse. What words we have are so crowded out by all the “pa-rum-pum-pum-pums” that it’s hard to tell what’s really happening. But when the young boy peers into the manger, the newborn King he sees causes the drummer to say, “I am a poor boy, too; I have no gift to bring.”

We’ve all experienced that moment. We begin to seriously consider Jesus, maybe for the first time in a long time, maybe for the first time ever. We seriously seek Jesus. And something happens. We believe. Really. We understand. Truly. Something clicks. The dots are connected. The light bulb flashes on. And you realize your bankruptcy is totally exposed. You really see Jesus and you really comprehend his glory and you look at yourself and realize, “I am broken. I am empty and poor. I’ve got nothing to bring this King that even comes close to what is due him. All I have is this drum.”

Like the little boy in the Gospels who approaches Jesus and says, “All I have is my lunch, two loaves and five tiny fish.”

Like the widow and her two mites. Jesus says she gave more than all the others combined.

That’s us. We’re the ones who feel completely inadequate and, in some sense, we always will. When we see the King and we understand exactly who he is and his eternal significance, we can’t help but sense our own frailty. Our own poverty. All we have is this drum. What in the world could ever be enough for this King? I’ve just got this drum.

So you ask. “Do you want that? Do you want this stupid drum?”

And Jesus says, “Yes. Bring me your nothing. Play your drum.”

So you play it for him. You play your best for him–declaring that you are small, acknowledging that you are weak, knowing that he doesn’t need you or what you have or what you do. But with all that you are, with every ounce and speck of the nothing you have, you are giving it to him. Like Psalm 103, you are praising the Lord with all your inmost being! You are giving it to him!

“Then he smiled at me; me and my drum.”

The eternal King of Glory, the Almighty Creator of Heaven and Earth, comes here to us as a helpless flesh-and-blood human baby. He put aside his power and his status and his position to give to us. By his life of love, his sacrificial death, and his glorious resurrection. our King gives us forgiveness, he reconciles us to a righteous relationship with our God and with one another, he gives us his divine peace and joy and life. He gives us abundant life, life to the full.

“Apart from me you can do nothing… Remain in my love… I am telling you this so my joy may be in you and that your joy may be complete… You are my friends… I have called you friends… You did not choose me, but I chose you and appointed you to go and bear fruit–fruit that will last.” ~John 15:5-17

Without Jesus, you and I have nothing. We are nothing. But because of Jesus, because he came, because he was born in that stable in Bethlehem on that starry night, because of him, we are absolutely, completely, and wonderfully his. Me and my drum–all his!

Jesus is not nearly as interested in my presents for him as my presence with him. That’s all he wants. He wants me. He wants you. Give yourself to him. Give all of yourself to Jesus. And feel his smile.

May we all see the newborn King with fresh eyes and open hearts. And may we follow his lead. Let’s trade our cravings for power for a desire to sacrifice. Let’s be identified by our patience with others, by our service to the least of these, and by our unconditional love for our neighbors. And let’s adopt the humble attitude of the Little Drummer Boy and receive the gracious gift of Jesus.

Peace,
Allan