A Spring of Joy

It was a year or two ago that our worship leader, Mike, approached Brian just before the second service we were attending at church.“Brian! Ian wants to play the drums, and I say ‘let’s let him’! Would you bring him up on stage for the last song after the sermon so he can play?” Brian willingly agreed.

Ian. That dear boy who loved unreservedly and enjoyed life fully. That boy who hugged anyone and made friends with everyone he saw. That boy who loved to tickle and laugh and say “tamales” for Sunday School answers just to laugh some more. That boy who was a boy scout full of adventure. That boy with Down Syndrome. That boy who truly LIVED.

At the end of the service, Ian’s dad walked him to Brian and Brian brought Ian up to the congas for the last song.

For those of us who were there, we’ll never forget it. For those of you who weren’t, I can’t even begin to describe it for you… the look on his face as he banged away at those drums…pure worship and joy!

And oh, how he banged! He played and played and smiled and laughed and banged and jumped and enjoyed worshipping Jesus to the fullest. I have rarely witnessed such a beautiful picture of pure, unfettered worship like Ian’s.

My seat in church gave me clear view of not just Ian’s face, but Brian’s face as he stood next to him and drummed with him… and of Ian’s father’s face as he sat in front of me, worshipping with his son.

No words, friends.

No words.

Ian. That dear boy who loved unreservedly.

He went home to be with Jesus on Friday morning.

As I hugged Ian’s mom at calling hours, she talked with me about that day, about how wonderful it was for him to play the drums… about how blessed she was to have had him in her life for 22 years, her constant companion…and about how Ian had so many adventures and so many people who were willing to adventure with him.

It makes me think of C.S. Lewis’ book, The Last Battle, where he writes, “And for us this is the end of all the stories, and we can most truly say that they all lived happily ever after. But for them it was only the beginning of the real story. All their life in this world and all their adventures in Narnia had only been the cover and the title page: now at last they were beginning Chapter One of the Great Story which no one on earth has read: which goes on for ever: in which every chapter is better than the one before.”

Ian has fought his last battle, he’s walked through that door, he’s past the cover and title page and he’s into chapter one… which goes on forever and every chapter is better than before.

That boy. That dear boy who loved unreservedly and enjoyed life fully. That boy who hugged anyone and made friends with everyone he saw. That boy who loved to tickle and laugh and say “tamales” for Sunday School answers just to laugh some more. That boy who was a boy scout full of adventure.

That boy who banged the drums.

I can only imagine his worship now… pure and unfettered.

That boy who lived so passionately.

He is really living now!

(Would you pray, my bloggy friends? For Ian’s family and friends… There are many who knew Ian far better than Brian and me, and we grieve for their pain. But we cling to hope with and for them… a hope that does not disappoint.)