That Little Drummer Boy

As I little girl, I loved....wait....repeat in all caps....LOVED watching the yearly Christmas specials on television.  Right after Thanksgiving, I poured over the weekly TV guide (remember the paper version?), highlighting all my favorites.  There was The Year Without a Santa Claus.  I was definitely Team Heat Mizer.  Cold Mizer had the chill and the height, but Heat, he had the sass.  Then there was Rudolph and Charlie Brown and Frosty and the Grinch. Loooved the Grinch in all his humor and grinchiness. I marked each and every one on my mother's calendar, happily anticipating several evenings of laughter, hot chocolate, and blissful escapes to chilly claymation wonderlands.  But in all my giggly girlhood, there was always one that rather rocked my world.

That little drummer boy.

I think every emotion pulsed through my eight...nine...ten year old self as I watched this 22 minutes year after year.  Fear. Laughter. Joy. Tears. Those evil bandits. The persevering drummer boy. The lame little lamb. The brilliant star.  Somehow, EVERY time, I found myself weeping, wishing I could be carrying the little lamb to the Baby Jesus. Funny how jerky animation and ill--synced voiceovers can encourage me to fall to my knees and wish I could be in that stable.  Yes, years later, I purchased all of them on VHS.  Yes, VHS.  I still have them. My boys have watched them.

For a second year, we've attended Grace Church's Christmas service of Little Drummer Boy.  It was a tremendous performance--phenomenal, really-- but even more so, it was an incredible worship experience. For a taste, here is the '09 trailer. I couldn't find this year's trailer, and there wasn't a show in 2010.


As I worshipped, I couldn't help but think of that little claymation drummer boy. His perseverance. His brokenness. Traversing his way to the manger, bringing his gifts to the newborn king. In many ways, he is as amazing as the 40 musicians who practiced for months and performed for sell out crowds.

In Scripture, we read of shepherds and angels and animals in the stable, but no little boy. But in many ways, he's a picture of us.

Created in God's image, we are gifted beyond measure, yet we are lame and broken and often pursued by the bandits of this life. We are eager to see Him, to know of His glory, but we easily veer off course with busy lives and selfish desires. This holiday, I encourage you to persevere....do not be ashamed....bring your gifts to the manger....and play for Him.