I don’t know what happened this Holiday season, but something was off. Thanksgiving was delightful. But, in the days leading up to it, instead of eager anticipation, I just kept forgetting about it. My lackadaisical attitude spilled out on to the holy grail of Christmas, too. I was late and less than enthusiastic putting up the decorations. Usually, I find such joy in shopping for the perfect gifts, but, this year, my motivation was at an all-time low.
Come, they told me
On the day I finally did put my decorations up, it was well into December. I spent more time mindlessly scrolling through social media than cheerfully stringing lights. I’m not usually one to stop and watch the videos that the almighty algorithms send my way, but something about this one caught my eye. It was the band for King + Country performing The Little Drummer Boy and it was riveting. Not in a soft, poignant kind of way, either. This song was (and still is) straight up powerful. Somehow, in the midst of drum beats, for the first time, I heard the vulnerability in the song. Almost as if I was hearing it for the very first time, and I cried.
Regardless of who you offer your prayers and petitions up to, be it Baby Jesus, Mother Earth or someone in between, I think most of us agree that we’re here for a greater purpose, and because of a Higher Power. Being a mom is the single greatest role in my life. I’m humbled and honored to be entrusted with these amazing little humans. There are blessings and beauty at every turn. Yet, some days, I feel awfully small.
Shall I play for you
Before you think I’m going ‘there,’ let me elaborate. Our family is kept afloat by our day-to-day routine, and yet it’s so easy to get bogged in the monotony of this season. Logistically, I know the importance of the tasks that fill my day. But, somedays my heart is coerced into thinking that in the big scheme of things, it’s all rather insignificant. I know that I’m the center of my kids’ universe, but I also know that the real world is so much bigger and I’m just here doing laundry.
I know, I know! There’s beauty in the laundry. Dirty dishes mean I was able to feed my family, running carpool means I’m blessed with reliable transportation. I haven’t lost sight of that, I promise. But entering data into an Excel Spreadsheet for hours on end, fielding phone calls, running errands and cleaning toilets makes it hard to see my contribution to the big picture. I know I’m in an enchanted forest, but I look around me, and some days, all I see are trees.
Me and my drum
Here’s what I heard in the lyrics of the son, though. The Little Drummer boy gave all he had. He didn’t apologize for not having a string quartet or an accompanying pianist. He offered what he could and trusted it was enough. So the laundry, the carpool, the middle-of-the-night feedings, the meetings, the toilets, the supper we cook… as moms, that’s the beat of our drum. No task is too small to matter, especially in our own corners of this great big world.
I hope that every time I hear this song, I remember the beautiful simplicity of the Little Drummer Boy’s gift. I also hope I can stay focused on the countless opportunities I have to offer equally simple, yet powerful gifts to the world. In the coming days, with Christmas party madness surrounded by studying and shopping, I need to trust that what I have to give is enough… enough for the world, for myself and the babies that are mine.