Pa-Rum-Pum-Pum-Pum

Merry Christmas! And Happy New Year!

We had a terrific Christmas being with both sides of the family. I know it is a huge blessing to both be teachers by profession, and to always have time off of work to visit family. We treasure these moments so dearly.

We spent the week of Christmas with my husband's parents and his family. I am truly blessed to have been welcomed with open arms into his family, and to feel when I'm there that it is also "home". I love my sisters-in-law dearly, and their "extras" - their husbands (the word we tease each other with to categorize the four of us who married into the family). We always do a sibling Christmas exchange together, and I received a wooden Family Birthdays Calendar to personalize and put together, which I will post a picture of when I finish it, because I'm so stinking excited about the thing!

We left the day after Christmas to head to Colorado to see my side of the family. My youngest brother had a flight to catch the night we got in to head to Arizona to see his girlfriend, and my sister stayed in Nebraska with her in-laws for the holidays, but I got to spend time with my other brother and his wife, my parents, and also my paternal grandparents, who now live with my parents, as they are getting on in years. It was an experience beyond description to introduce our two newest additions to my family, as it had been with the others before them. For my parents to give such love and acceptance to the twins, even knowing there's a chance they may never see them again, was inspiring. I am grateful for the love they teach me every day by showing it in all facets of their lives.

So blessed.

The favorite song proudly warbled through our home and through the car during the many hours of driving was "The Little Drummer Boy". Miss A had learned almost every word by heart by the time Christmas break came, and Little Guy was close behind. The twins chimed in for every "pum" every time the song came on, or even if the other two were singing it themselves, a Capella.

The words in the second verse really hit me this year:

Baby Jesus, (pa-rum-pum-pum-pum)
I am a poor boy too; (pa-rum-pum-pum-pum)
I have no gift to bring (pa-rum-pum-pum-pum)
That's fit to give a King; (pa-rum-pum-pum-pum, rum-pum-pum-pum, rum-pum-pum-pum)
Shall I play for you (pa-rum-pum-pum-pum)
On my drum?

Hearing my little kids sing these words melted my heart for so many reasons. Their sweet, clear voices are just adorable to listen to. Off-key, on-pitch - it doesn't matter - I love children's voices singing! They definitely love to "make a joyful noise" and they have no anxiety about it at their age!

Their enthusiasm was endearing. They never tired of the song, even if it had played several times during the previous hour on the radio, or if we had sang it ten times in a row at home.

I'm a nerd who can't listen to any song without analyzing the deeper meaning. As I pondered the words to the song, it hit me that the kids were perfect carriers of the message it proclaims.

We're all too poor to bring anything to the table that's worthy of our Creator. Besides the fact that any earthly thing we "have" to bring isn't ours in the first place, there's nothing we humans do better than pretty much just messing things up.

Our petty attempts at "goodness" are most often self-serving in some way, if we're brutally honest with ourselves. And when I say "we", please forgive me, because I really just mean "me". I have so much anxiety over my own life and its happenings that I blind myself to the actual needs of others. I try to be everything to everyone, accomplish everything that's expected of me, which actually just turns the focus back to ME ME ME.I fail at it, feel guilty, try harder, fail again. ME ME ME.

"If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I am a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal," says 1 Corinthians 13:1.

We come to the manger, acknowledging that we are unworthy of even attempting to present any "gift" to the King of Kings, knowing our failures, our faults... and then our Father says, "Ahh! Now you finally get it!"

(Kind of like my middle school shop teacher's musings on the man who won a "Humble" pin, but had it taken away when he wore it on his shirt. But I digress.)

In our unworthiness, we understand and appreciate the birth of Christ at its deepest meaning. He came for the lowly - the shepherds, the poor fictional drummer boy who had nothing but his God-given talent, the "sinners" he met and healed and ate with. He came for us, not in spite of our unworthiness, but BECAUSE of our unworthiness. He know that coming to our earth meant dying on the cross, and He still did it. For us. For me. For you. 

And we are now clothed in His worthiness, His grace. He sees us as His children, dearly loved.

My kids sing their little songs, sometimes sweetly, sometimes loudly. God hears it. I'm pretty sure He loves it as much as I do.

My kids handed me Christmas presents they "bought" with money I gave them. They have nothing to offer me to entice me to love them. I know it. And I love them for it.

I wondered several times this Christmas season how I could ever explain to them the depth of love that I have for them all. "When they are parents," I told myself, "they'll understand." 

And if I love my silly, messy, ever-changing little ones this much, imagine how much more the Infinite One of the Universe loves us all.

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!