We sing about the drummer boy.
He brings the best gift he can offer.
The only gift he has to offer.
He plays with his whole heart.
We pa-rum-pum-pum with him.
Linus recites for us.
And when he reaches the message the angels have to deliver, when he repeats their words, “Fear not. We bring you good news,” his security blanket, an extension of him, well, he lets it fall right there on the stage.
And Tiny Tim.
He lives in a shabby home stock full of love.
In his short life, he’s suffered more than not.
He’s ill and frail but he is not lacking.
He offers a benediction in the way of childlike wonder.
“God bless us everyone!”
In a manger, a gift is swaddled, snuggled, settled. Logos, the living, breathing word.
A tiny chest rises and falls and baby lips form a perfect circle and exhale.
He lies, safe, secure, soothed.
Innocent unaware.
Come into a world to bear the weight of the world.
But right now, on this not-so-silent night, his flesh-and-bone frame lives solely in trust and reliance.
Truth and grace enter earthside with him, but tonight he sleeps.
The drummer boy. Linus. Tiny Tim.
The commonality they carry.
Each one is seen and heard.
Each heralds an important message.
Each postures the humility of moving beyond one’s self to step into a story more profound than one knows.
For the little drummer boy gives us the gift of giving from the heart, the gift of song.
Linus gives us the gift of letting go of our insecurities.
Tiny Tim gives us the gift of gratitude despite circumstances.
And the tiny baby. Wrapped in flesh. Breathing in and out. Stretching and yawning.
He gives us the gift of humility.
He opens his eyes. And for a moment it almost appears like eternity is reflected there.
Emmanuel. God with us.
……..and as 2023 closes its final pages in the way we record time, I find myself leaning toward 2024. I hadn’t planned on choosing a focus word for 2024. I’ve chosen words for several years now and had years when I leaned into the words a lot. The last two years I’ve chosen words but in the cyclical nature of things, the seasons of things, my nature and personality with things, I’ve not sat with them the same way I had in years prior. It felt like a natural rhythm to let this choosing of a word float away as a feather. And then, in these last waning days of 2023, in unexpectedness, there it was. Logos. The Word. Word of Life. It felt as if it floated in as a feather. I’m holding it lightly and welcoming it graciously. Logos. Like Emmanuel, God with us, so the Word, with us, within us.