As kids, my brother Kip and I used to laugh at the Christmas song, "Little Drummer Boy." We couldn't distinguish some of the words so we'd make up our own lyrics. For example, instead of, "come they told me" it was "Chinese ladies per rump pa pum pum." We weren't racist, just silly. The stupider the made up lyrics, the more we'd roll on the floor with laughter.
I heard "Little Drummer Boy" on the radio yesterday and this time listened closely to the lyrics. They almost brought me to tears. I could see the little boy with nothing but a drum. He watched others present lavish gifts for the Savior. He wished he had more to give. Feeling choked up with love he moved close to the baby. Then, moved by the sight of the angelic Christ child, he played his drum. Perhaps there were mistakes (even though the ox and lamb were keeping time). Even if there were mistakes, Jesus didn't judge. He heard a sweet rhythm. For Jesus wouldn't just hear the drums, he'd hear the intention, motive, and love. Instead of a drum solo, the combination of music and guileless desire made a rich orchestra for Jesus. If the gift really happened, the little drummer boy gave Jesus the best gift of all; all he had.
I thought of the little drummer boy as I purchased and delivered hams today. I have negative feelings about my calling as Activities Chair in our ward. I don't resent serving. I just get terrible anxiety. I inevitably become tense and irritable as the activity approaches. If I don't forget something, I'm not happy anyway because I worried so much I would and made myself sick. Everyone on my committee has different opinions and it feels like someone is always crabby and disappointed. Navigating the feelings of ladies is like trying to row a canoe in a hurricane. Since I'm the leader I end up doing what I think is best and feel guilty for stomping over ideas and feelings. I don't enjoy the activities. I don't smile at anyone at the parties. I can hardly cough out small talk. I simply walk around tethered as tightly in my anxiety as Christian is in his car seat. When the activity is over, there is nary a thanks but a big mess to clean up. There's no room to feel happy or satisfaction with anything I've done. No matter how well it went, the next "party" looms ahead.
One of the best days I've had in months came when the church announced the dissolving of the activities committee. Even better was the day they asked me to take a new calling as the children's pianist in primary. I felt almost guilty because I half expected God to punish me for my murmuring. He did the opposite. He gave me what I wanted. Somebody likes me up there.
My last hurrah as Activities Chair is the Christmas party. So I bought 15 hams, ugly red plastic tablecloths, and more rolls than should be legal. As I made pick ups and deliveries and generally ran around today like a chicken without a head, I thought of the little Drummer Boy. I'm sure the month of December ushers in thousands of ham and poinsettia filled Mormon Christmas parties. Mine will be as average as the best of them. I only hope that if the Savior happened to visit the 3rd Ward party tomorrow night, he'd see through the tacky trees and tinsel and he'd find me playing my best for Him.
2 comments:
What a great post Melissa. We've all had callings that were difficult for us. Heavenly Father knows how difficult this calling was for you but you did it despite that fact. You 'played' your best, passed the test and now you have a calling you are excited about.....until the next difficult one :)
Great post. Jake did he last hurrah today as well. He is sad and relieved to not be in charge of activities for the first time in 6 years! I'm sure it was lovely!
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