The Little Drummer Boy

The sound of a beating drum can make anyone's bones shake. But can you even imagine the heartfelt beats resounding from the little drummer boy's instrument played for our King? Our baby Savior cradled in a manger? Can you hear it? Can you feel it?

Can you imagine the weight the Little Drummer Boy felt when he was asked by the earthly Magi Kings to come play for the Eternal King? The small boy, likely with a beaten up drum and dirty feet, had been asked by far-away Kings to come play for the King of Heaven. The boy probably felt inadequate. Not worthy. Afraid.

But he did it anyway. To his best and fullest.

WE are the Little Drummer Boy. Yes. We are that boy.

We have been called by our King to work as if unto the Lord. We have been called to honor Him. We have been called to glorify His name even if we scrub toilets. What we do and what we've been given is our drum.

What is your drum? Tonight, my drum was my car.

I was driving home from a Christmas social and crossed the bridge near Roanoke Memorial Hospital. There was a woman and a small child walking across the bridge where there was no sidewalk. It was a chilly 50 degrees and dropping. Fog and drizzle made it sometimes hard to see. I kept driving. And driving. I finally got over a mile away from this woman.

Come they told me. Pa rum pum pum pum. A newborn King to see. Pa rum pum pum pum.

I could not shake that I felt like I was supposed to check on them. I felt a tug on my heart. I kept trying to rationalize that it was dark and I needed to be safe since I was by myself. I kept driving. And I felt the drum beating in my heart that was back on the bridge.

Our finest gifts we bring. Pa rum pum pum pum. To lay before the King. Pa rum pum pum pum. Rum pum pum pum. Rum pum pum pum.

I got almost two miles away from the bridge and came to a stoplight. I wrestled with God and told Him I would go back and I trusted Him to protect me among my petty fears. I whipped my car around. I had to honor Him.

So to honor Him. Pa rum pum pum pum. When we come.

As I approached the woman and her child, my mom and daughter called me on the phone. I answered on my car bluetooth. It was just seconds before I got to the woman. I told them to hang on the line with me and what I was doing. God had answered my prayer and given me a safety net as I stepped outside my comfort zone into a (rightfully-so) cautious scene.

Little baby, ra pa pum pum.

There she was with her toddler little girl. I pulled over and rolled down my window.

"Ma'am, are you okay?"

"Yes!" she replied with a thankful look on her face.

"Do you need a ride?" I asked. Her eyes lit up.

"Yes, please!" So, I drove forward and turned around.

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 the King. Pa rum pum pum pum. Rum pum pum pum. Rum pum pum pum.

Father, I have nothing to give them. Not even a bottle of water in my car. The food in my trunk is half eaten from the party. 

Still on the phone, I asked "Rhi, can I give the little girl your Minnie Mouse?"

"No, mommy! Please don't!" I began running through my mind what I was to give them. I turn around and get back across the bridge on their side of the road. The woman puts the little girl in Rhi's car seat and I buckle her in. She sits in the front seat. I still had nothing yet to give.

Shall I play for you? Pa rum pum pum pum. On my drum?

"Where are you going tonight, hun?" I asked the woman. She told me. "I'm not sure where that is, so please direct me." Her daughter played some in the backseat with her Frozen purse and stickers. She had just come out of the ER with a lacerated forehead from a fall. The woman and girl were going to have to walk to the opposite side of downtown Roanoke. Probably over an hour's walk, especially with a 3-year-old.

She directed me through traffic. Lord, what do I give her? She kept directing me through downtown.

Shall I play for you? Shall I play for you?

"I want you to know, hun, that God told me to turn back around and see how you were."

"Oh, thank you." She almost didn't know what to say.

"How can I pray for you?"

"I just need a prayer, ma'am." She didn't know what to think of that question.

"I can do that," and I smiled.

Mary looked at me and nodded. The ox and lamb kept time. I played my drum for Him.

We arrived at our destination. "You know, God loves you. He loves you very much. Enough to answer your prayer. Jesus loves you and God loves you," I said to the woman.

I turned and looked in the backseat. "Sweet pea, do you know Jesus? You are such a big girl. Thank you for using your manners tonight. Jesus loves you. He loves you very, very much." She just looked at me with such innocence.

I turned to the woman who was starting to open her door. I handed her a blessing bag with a sample, my business card, and a coupon in it. I told her I wanted to give her a complimentary pampering session to help her cheer up and asked for us to keep in touch.

I played my best for Christ. I played my best for Christ.

"Why, thank you! I really would enjoy that. I do need it. And I need a prayer too. Would you mind calling me soon for a prayer?" she asked with a worn face.

Tonight, my drum came in the form of a white Chevy Cruze with 4 wheels and a gas tank. The drum stick was my mouth. I made music of sharing His love and Word through the platform my car gave me to speak the truth of Jesus into this woman's life. Who knows. It could have been the first time the little girl had ever heard Jesus loves her.

Then, He smiled at me.

Sister, how are you playing your drum for the King?

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Take a second to listen. This is my favorite rendition of the Little Drummer Boy, by Mercy Me.

[youtube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Qb2VLQhHpNU&w=560&h=315]