In recent local news, a fourth grade boy was bullied for designing his own University of Tennessee t-shirt. I came across the photo before I discovered the details surrounding the Florida boy’s story. My heart breaks for this little guy as I imagine his eyes looking upward, perhaps sitting on his bedroom floor and his face slightly scrunched as his mind thinks on how to show his support as a loyal Vols fan at school for college colors day. He merely wanted to bring to the college football table all he had to offer, what he was able to bring.
Keep designing and using that imagination, my friend! 🙂
This actually brings to mind one of my favorite Christmas songs: “Little Drummer Boy”. I know, Christmas is yet a few months away but it’s not that premature as I have definitely observed Christmas decor in stores already. Admittedly, this song use to drive me crazy with all the “pa rum pum pum pums” but I was immature and foolish to not listen further to the beautiful words to fully understand the message.
A few of the lyrics below:
Come they told me, pa rum pum pum pum;
A Newborn 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…
So to honor Him, pa rum pum pum pum;
Little baby, pa rum pum pum pum;
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 our King, pa rum pum pum pum;
[THIS IS THE TIME WHEN I IMAGINE THE BOY LOOKING DOWN TO HIS SIDE AND REALIZING HE HAS HIS DRUM WITH HIM]
Shall I play for you?, pa rum pum pum pum;
Mary nodded, 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;
Then He smiled at me…pa rum pum pum pum…
Back in my junior high school days (or is the correct term Middle School? Last I knew this age group preferred junior high but I can’t keep up) 🙂
Anyways, back to my junior high days of band. Yes, band. This athlete played the flute though not well. I was at least one of the dozen or so females and one male who played but I was not as gifted as most in this group. The second row near the less-gifted of band geeks (can I say that? Is that pc?) was where I sat trying my best while making a joyful noise.
For those of you reading this that were playing flute with me during those years…can I just say, YOU ARE WELCOME! I was pretty shy back then but I’d have been the first to admit that I was the worst flute player EVER and that each of one y’all had to have been thinking, “well, I’m not the best at this but at least I’m not as bad as Holly.” And Mama and Dad, thank you for putting up with my having to practice at home in a moderately sized house and for attending concerts in which us band members thought we sounded AMAZING (I’ve since watched the VHS of these concerts and this was definitely NOT the case).
Mary would definitely not have been nodding to me if I asked her “shall I play my flute?”that evening in the stable. Now I don’t know if the little baby Jesus cried that night in Bethlehem or not (Him being perfect and all) but I have to imagine He did cry for the things He needed just like any other baby. Would the Newborn King have smiled at me too as He had at the Little Drummer Boy? Maybe.
But you know what? I do believe He smiles at me when I bring Him my best. God has asked me to trust Him and to create again. I have resisted His insistence even more than my desire had been to quit band after a boy I liked sat almost directly behind me. My second year of band (7th grade), I knew playing the flute was definitely NOT a way to impress anyone…
God has taught me this past year, especially the last six months, to give Him what I have. This summer has kicked off an awakening within my heart to use the gifts He’s given me in creating canvas paintings, refinishing furniture, writing, photography and my newest addition, creating dollhouse furniture. Regardless of the outcome (or income) from my creations, I know I am giving Him my best.
We give to Him what we have, who we are, using our gifts to honor Him and glorify Him. It is time to get back to Bethlehem and march forward to the beat of the drum.