We were listening to the All-Christmas-All-The-Time Radio Station the other day, and Caroline uttered this heresy: “I don’t like that song.” What was playing? My childhood favorite, the enduring and oft-recorded hit: The Little Drummer Boy. I pulled to the side of the road until my vision cleared. “What don’t you like about this song?” I sputtered, visions of the beloved 1968 television special dancing through my head.

“It’s supposed to be about a little kid, but it’s sung by old men!” she replied. Can’t fool a 10-year old. (Listen to the Bing Crosby/David Bowie version and see if you agree.)

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.

“What else do you notice about the song?” I asked the girls. Julia said, “He is God. He doesn’t need any presents.” Ah, out of the mouths of babes.

Could she be right? What do you think? The lyrics are kind of wacky, and not just the rum pum pum pum parts. They’re based on a faulty assumption….that we need to bring something if we want to come to Jesus. Kind of like a potluck. Can’t come if you don’t bring something. Don’t come and eat if you didn’t fry some chicken or bake some beans. The song seems to imply that even as a sleepy little newborn, the Baby Lord wanted gifts. It says “they told me” to come and bring gifts. That bugs me…and Julia, too.

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 the 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?

What if you, like the Drummer Boy, are poor? What if you are empty and have nothing to bring? Can you come anyway?

The sad Little Drummer Boy feels a compulsion from somewhere that tells him he must bring something in order to honor the baby. This has somehow been communicated to him by life, by church, by others. Yet, he has nothing to give. Nothing. Why not?

Dig deeper into the story. The song doesn’t do it, but my beloved Christmas special does. The Drummer Boy comes to the baby Lord full of anger and rage. His family has been killed and he is not able to forgive. He needs the help of the Lord. He needs to lay down his burden, to give it to the King. In truth, that’s the only thing he’s required to give. Himself. Then, and only then, is he able to play. He plays out of the thankfulness in his own heart. The Lord does not require the song. The boy wants to give it.

What does the Bible say? It says, “We are saved by grace, and not by works. It is a gift from God, lest no man boast.” God gives us the gift, first. He didn’t have to; He wanted to. It has no strings attached. It’s not in exchange for drumming, or tithing, or lugging frankincense & myrrh across the desert, or for any other thing we did. God just wants to give it to us. He freely offers us faith, love, hope, forgiveness. We only need to do what the little drummer boy did. We need to show up. Lay our burdens down. Ask for help. And simply receive it.

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.

Showing up. Giving up. Looking up. That’s all He wants. That’s what makes Him smile.

I lost my keys today.

Well, that’s not true. I lost the thing that automatically unlocks my car doors and in my mind, that is worse than losing the car key. Now that it’s gone, I think of it fondly. (Previously, I never thought of it. It was a constant in my life, like sunrise in the morning and a dirty sink in my kitchen.) Now that it’s gone, I’ve nicknamed it The Magic Button. I miss it already.

The car key is necessary to start and drive the car, sure. But that Magic Button, that automatic door opener, well, it’s Key to my Happiness and Ease in this World.

Think I’m overstating it? Just a bit? Consider this. What (previously) allowed me to unlock the doors so my kids could fight over the front seat while I chatted with friends in the school parking lot? My Magic Button.

What (in the past) allowed me to unlock the van while I ran like a lunatic through the Walmart parking lot because I was going to be late for library duty at school? Magic Button, that’s what.

It got me thinking about the Magic Button and what a miracle it is that it even exists. When I was little, we didn’t even lock our car doors. After the introduction of carjacking, we lost our innocence. We started to lock our car doors even while driving. The act of manually pushing down a little knob was just too arduous, so automatic locks were invented. Instead of pushing a knob on our door, we pushed a little button instead. It was swell to hear the satisfying “click” resonate throughout the car.

I caught myself getting just a teensy-eensy bit angry that the Magic Button was mysteriously gone and that my life would be, from this day forward, So. Much. Harder.

I’m being ridiculous, I know. You see, we come to expect, and then depend on, the little things that make our life easier. The dishwasher to wash the dishes. The dryer to dry the clothes. The other dryer to dry the hair. All our magic bells and whistles.

Could it be that we depend on things more than we depend on people? And could it be that we depend both on things and people more than we depend on God? Think about it. If it's true, how do we reconcile these dependencies with our faith?

The Bible says “He will supply all our needs according to His riches in glory.”

I prayed to find Magic Button and it didn’t appear. Does that mean that I don’t need it? (Because I certainly wanted it. And God is certainly capable of delivering.)

I’m starting to realize that hearing God supplies all our needs and believing that it's true are two different events. He’ll supply all my needs, and furthermore, He’ll determine what I actually need, which is vastly different from what I want.

What I needed today, perhaps, was a time to reflect. You don't need a Magic Button for that. Hmm. Interesting. I'm still thinking about it. Who -- or what--- do I depend on to get through each day with ease and peace?
What is truly my Key to Happiness? I'll think about that every time I open my car doors....with the key!

I’m scared of people who know it all. I know a few of them. I recognize the species. Because, well, I used to be one.

I knew it all. At least, I thought I did. When I was younger, hoooo baby, you could not tell me anything. I knew it all. I look back now and blush. If I had addresses, I’d send out lots of sympathy cards. I’d write to everyone who used to work with me, for one. I’d say….
“Sorry you had to work with me in the 80’s. I know I was really obnoxious. Thanks for not throwing me out the window of our high story office building.
Blessings! Martie”

I bet some people are still mad. Like one lady chased me into the bathroom once and yelled at me through the stall. She told me I was young and I didn’t know what I was saying. I sat on the toilet and thought about how wrong she was. Sorry, Kate. To Kate, I should send flowers.

My gosh, the moral fiber I imagined that I had! The stand that I took on so many issues! Ok, it’s a tiny bit cute now, to remember how very brilliant I felt when I argued with adults. I felt powerful! I felt right! I could not be dissuaded! On the other hand, now that I have teenagers and have those arguments in reverse, it’s not all that cute. It’s annoying.

When did I figure out that I didn’t know it all? I guess it started when I met the Lord. See, the very first thing I learned about God was this.
“He removes our past transgressions as far as the East is from the West.” (Ps. 103:12, paraphrase mine)

This was both reassuring and humiliating. It was reassuring because I was dragging a lot of baggage around with me. I wasn’t quite sure how I’d ever be free of it. It was great to know that it could be sent through some heavenly FedEx to the other end of the earth. It was humiliating because if God was going to perform that service for me, gosh, it meant He knew what all the transgressions were. He knew it all. It wasn’t me who knew it all, it was God. Gosh, that was painful….but freeing at the same time.

Well, the more I grow in the Lord, the more I realize that I don’t know it all.

I hardly know anything.

But I’m psyched because God really does know everything. And He still loves us. He knows what happened in the past. He knows what will happen in the future. He even knows every word we’re going to say, before we say it.

(When I found that Scripture, I was fascinated! Every word? Before we say it??? To test this out, I shouted out a swear word, a really bad one, really fast. And I felt the Lord kind of smirking, with a knowing grin on His face. “I knew you were going to say that,” He said.)

You can’t get away from the Lord. And that’s a great thing.

So now I know that I don’t know much. And I’m pretty relaxed about it. See, the view is nicer from the “Don’t Know It All” side of the fence. You don’t have to always be arguing. You don’t have to think how stupid everyone else is all the time. You can just hang out, and love people.

So now when I meet a Know-It-All, I just smile. And throw up a silent prayer that the Lord will grab hold of them, and save them from themselves, like He did with me. I’m really grateful. I don’t know much…but I do know Him. Turns out, that’s All.

If you go ahead and develop this product, the Christian Fortune Cookies, please say you heard it here first, and be sure to do the honorable thing and send me the commission checks.

Here's what we do to God's word. We make it into little tasty Fortune Cookies. We tend to chop it up into little tasty morsels, just a bite-sized bit. We use just a tiny collection of inoffensive words, "Be still and know that I am God" and slather it over little slips of paper, little bumper stickers, little greeting cards and in general, try to take something BIG and make it little.

How do we do this? We edit the Word to make it portable or more palatable. Yes, I guess we section it off to make it easier to understand. We make Christian Fortune Cookies out of it. Like right here, right in front of me on my desk is a little card that says, "I am the way, the truth and the life." Nice fortune cookie. There's no reference cited so unless you know it's from the Bible, you'd have no idea where it came from. Maybe you think, "Is that referencing Oprah? Oprah is the way, the truth and the life?" Or worse yet, is that referencing me? I am the subject? I am the way? Who is this "I am"?

Perhaps you're suprised that the rest of the verse is not there on my little card. Are you? I'm not...because the rest of the verse says, "No one comes to the Father except through me." (By the way, it's from the Bible, John 14:6.)

That inflamatory statement, "No one comes to the Father except through me", while being the cornerstone of the gospel, is less tasty, so it's not included in our sweet lil' morsel.

This happens everywhere and the place it frustrates me the most is Bible Study. "Read Romans 12:8b and fill in the blanks." So specific. So cut and dried. So boring. So "just-one-correct-answer."

If we're studying the Bible, awesome, awesome, awesome. Let's do it. Let's read the verses that come before the referenced verse. Let's go crazy, let's read the verses that come after the referenced verses. It'll be nutty, let's read the whole chapter, the whole book.

Let's not make Christian Fortune Cookies any more.

My husband, Dave, asked this morning, "What are you thinking about?" I replied, "Nothing". This is a secret code which means, "Too much to summarize at this time." He knew enough to break the code and ask, "No, really, what are you thinking about?"

I'm thinking about my friend's sister, Lisa. Lisa has cancer and has just been referred to hospice. I believe God can heal her, I truly, truly do. Yet I cry out, like the father in the Book of Mark, "I do believe...help my unbelief." See, cancer has snuck up on my friends before and now I'm cynical. Cancer sucks. But God is God, and He has a plan, and I pray it's to heal Lisa this side of eternity. That's what I was thinking about.

I was thinking about one of my twins, Trevor. He's appearing before the Honor Board of his Christian School today. He copied his brother's homework...WORD FOR WORD. Good news, he admitted to it when the teacher questioned him. I mean, c'mon, he copied the misspellings and everything. I was thinking that I'd like to have a kid who was on the Honor Board, not appearing before the Honor Board. That's what I was thinking about.

I was thinking that my dad is getting test results back today. He had a malignant tumor removed from his bladder last Friday. Repeat, cancer sucks. I was thinking about him, praying for a good report today.

I was thinking about coffee and wishing the coffee machine was in my bedroom and not all the way downstairs.

And like most mornings, I was thinking about laundry.

What are you thinking about? What's on your mind? (Don't just say nothing because I know that's not entirely true.)

The Bible says that God knows us inside and out. He knows every word that we're going to say, before we even say it. He knows our hearts. He knows our mind. And here's what I realized today, He doesn't have to ask, "What are you thinking?" He already knows.

But still, like Dave, He likes to hear us tell all. He wants us to get it all out. Take a minute and tell God what you're thinking. He likes that.

Am I going to be stuck with lightening? I admit that’s a pretty sassy and irreverent way to talk to God. I don’t mean it that way (or do I?)

I really, honestly, truly DO mean, “What the heck are you doing, God?” As in, “What are you doing?”

The cool thing in the Faith Walk is that you can look back and see how God was in the details, even when we didn’t realize it. Like, I really thought our first child would be a girl. When “Sally” was a boy, I was shocked.

I read up on “How to Predict the Sex of Your Child” in order to insure we would have a girl next. Guess what? Twin boys. We had 3 boys in 19 months.

God in His wisdom, His graciousness, His “I see the Big Picture and You Don’t”, didn’t give us what we demanded from him. Then, awesome, we finished our family with two little girls.

I can see God in the details to give us our Full House. (Get it, 3 of one, 2 of another, that’s truly a Full House.) I would not trade or lose or sacrifice any of those precious children or their birth order, even if I could. But at the time, I have to say, I was getting a bit miffed that God “wasn’t listening” to us (and by that I mean He was God and wasn’t going to be swayed by my petulant whining and toddler-like demands.)

Now I’m in another “What the heck are you doing, God” moment in my life, and I am thankful that I can look back into the past and fill in some of the blanks.

What the heck were you doing, allowing us to move to West Virginia?
I wanted you to meet Debi and Mark and Angela, and I wanted you and Dave to start the jobs I had planned in advance for you to have.

What the heck were you doing, giving us free will and allowing us to build up debt?
I needed you to realize that true riches are love, faith, home and not a plump 401K or a home on a fancy street.

What the heck were you doing, allowing Dave to struggle with this job?
I wanted him to acknowledge me alone as provider, and I wanted you to perhaps hit rock bottom so you would know, that you know, that you know, that I am truly THE WAY, the TRUTH and the LIFE.


What the heck are you doing, is Dave getting promoted and we’re moving, or what?
That’s for Me to know and you to find out. (God has a sense of humor.) What does my Word say? I will never leave you or forsake you. I have a plan and a purpose for you. There are good works for you to do, works I planned in advance for you. I will provide all your needs, according to my riches in glory.

Oh, that’s what You’re doing.

Help me, Holy Father, to not be such a toddler. After 16 years of walking with you, I sometimes feel like I’m maturing but other times, like a total, spoiled baby. I can totally relate to the line in James, “You want what you can’t have, and you’ll kill to get it.”

I want to be debt-free (but I don’t want to get a full-time job nor suffer nor sacrifice too much, nor pull the kids from their awesome Christian school.)

I want a dramatic "fix", and "overnight solution"...but we love it here, this is our home, do we have to lose it in order to gain in the long run?

I want to hear from You. I am thankful that often I do, but not always…am I doing my part? Am I truly offering myself as a Living Sacrifice? I THINK I am. Please help guide and direct me, Father God.

I trust you.....
Thanks for giving me free will. Now I freely give it back to you. Show me.

Junk e-mail? E-Junk? What do we call it? I log onto my computer to 63 new messages! Well, it says 63, but 59 are “bulk” mail. Junk mail.

At least Yahoo is polite enough to gather the junk in a pile for me. I left AOL because they didn't. I'd spend 25 minutes hitting delete, delete, delete all the diet plans, free offers and various other smut. Yahoo is easy. I press delete once to evaporate all this morning's E-Crud.

4 pieces of real, er, cyber mail.

I log on. But wait, 2 of the remaining are actually junk that snuck through.

And the other 2 pieces are Forwards from a friend. I ask myself, "Is that really a friend?" You know, a friend who sends you a Chain Letter. ("If you don't forward this you are cursed".....thanks, buddy!)
No real mail this morning.

It struck me, this morning, that is how our minds are. Mine is, is yours? I get 63 pieces of mail every morning and most of it is junk.

The junk mail in my mind is varied and colorful. Past experiences and deep regrets. Lies the world tells me. Lies I believe about myself. More regrets. Busyness and loneliness. Attacks from self and attacks from the enemy (some call the enemy Satan but I call him Stan), and just plain…how can I put this….JUNK.

I have to sort through that mail every morning and there’s no clever Yahoo program to do that. I have had to learn to embrace the truth, which is like a shredder that cuts through all the Junk Mail Lies.

Here’s a good one to play as you wake.

“His mercies are new every morning.” That means we get a Do-Over, a Start Again, a It’s a Brand New Day After All. Every day. So don’t carry your yesterday’s junk into day’s new day. I love that one.

“Take every thought captive for Christ.” That’s a powerful junk shredder. I gather up all the junk, as much as I can gather, and hand it to Him. I say, “Lord, take this junk and destroy it, in Your name and by Your power.” He pulverizes most of it, instantenously, just because I asked and just because He can and because, of course, He loves me.

But, as in my cyber mailbox, there are a few pieces left. These are the pieces I am left to address, to handle, to consider for myself. Maybe they are forwards from a friend. In the Christian world we sometimes call them Prayer Requests.

One of my Forwards, in my mind today, is a prayer for a friend who is desperate for a baby. She’s newly pregnant, again, yet there have been losses. I pray for her.

Another Forward is for the mom of a friend. The mom has terminal cancer, but she's doing okay. She's secure in her eternal life. My friend struggles with a pervasive feeling that This-Life-is-All-There-Is. I keep that piece of mail. I’ve had it in my pocket for years now.

Maybe after we sort it all out, all the junk and requests and funny jokes, this is truly all that’s meant to remain. Prayer. Just plain old thoughtful, carry it with you, ponder it in your heart, lift it up to the Lord, prayer.

What mail did you get today? What junk are you carrying around? I encourage you in Jesus’ name to sort it out and give most of it to Him. Only carry what He asks you to keep.

Because here’s the truth. The mail comes again tomorrow.