pa-rum-pum-pum-pum

Christmas is so close we can taste it! Christmas music is blasting everywhere - I HAD to laugh when I heard Feliz Navidad blaring in a South African pharmacy!

I had a moment a few weeks ago that made me rethink one Christmas song in particular.

It was a typical Sunday morning: I was hauling the giant red Condor through Dwaleni to pick up the kids and the mamas for church. Nandi pounced me in delight, her eyes and her mouth shouting, “Mama Kacy! Mama Kacy! Christmas! YOU!”

She handed me a tiny little piece of wrapping paper covered in Christmas stickers. I knew this was the very finest she had to offer. And I gave thanks.

I opened up the palm-sized parcel to find a neatly folded piece of notebook paper with her handwriting.

To my surprise, the paper was covered with the words – the English words – to the song The Little Drummer Boy. I giggled and started singing it. Nandi had never even heard the song, but ran in her house to show me that she had a book from school with the words written down… right next to the picture of a dark brown baby in a manger wearing traditional Swazi dress. (So awesome.)

As we loaded up the car with bouncing children, I skimmed through my iPod and found a hilarious – or maybe embarrassing – Christmas surprise. I did have The Little Drummer Boy… sung by New Kids on the Block. (Busted.)

It was better than a reunion concert… we JAMMED New Kids on the Block that Sunday morning.  Over and over again we sang, “Pa-rum-pum-pum-pum”.

I was in Christmas bliss in that moment, as we drove up a mountain sprinkled with shacks, barefoot and unsupervised babies, and empty-handed people. I reveled in the Truth and worshipped with a band of 10 kids playing the dashboard, headrest, and hand drums.

And I sang the words of Truth loud…

Come, they told me... Pa-rum-pum-pum-pum,

A new born King to see... Pa-rum-pum-pum-pum.

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.

So, to honor Him...Pa-rum-pum-pum-pum

When we come.

Little baby... Pa-rum-pum-pum-pum,

I am a poor boy too... Pa-rum-pum-pum-pum,

I have no gifts to bring... Pa-rum-pum-pum-pum,

That's fit to give our 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.

Mary nodded... Pa-rum-pum-pum-pum,

The ox and lamb kept time... Pa-rum-pum-pum-pum.

I played my drum for Him... Pa-rum-pum-pum-pum.

I played my best for Him... Pa-rum-pum-pum-pum,

Rum-pum-pum-pum, Rum-pum-pum-pum.

Then He smiled at me... Pa-rum-pum-pum-pum.

Me and my drum. 

This carload of kids had nothing to bring their King that Sunday morning, but they were singing to Him. They were playing their drums. And I was playing them too – on the steering wheel. They offered songs and joy in a language they couldn't even understand, and I offered that steering wheel, that Sunday morning, and my hands.

And it was Christmas.

Merry Christmas to you and your family. I pray that every hand that passes a gift, serves a plate of food, hugs a family member, or opens the door for a guest is blessed with all of the meaning in that “pa-rum-pum-pum-pum,” and He opens your Christmas morning ears to hear the cadence of the King’s song.