This morning, as I sat in church waiting for services to start, my eye was drawn to a chubby little gal wearing ill-fitting khaki pants and making her way down to the front. I watched her as she bounced from person to person in the front row, wrapping each one in big squeeze-y hugs, the kind that rocks back and forth and doesn’t let go.
When the music started, she stood and swayed to the beat, swimming and waving her hands through the air. It appeared as though she was doing sign language, I couldn’t really tell, but it was glorious the way she seemed to be sewing with invisible needle and thread. Everything about her radiated a joy that was unfiltered, unmetered, unaffected, unaware. I thought of how pleasing her worship must be to God, to see her singing praises to Him with her hands.
As apparent as was her joy, so too was her oddly shaped body, adult yet childlike, wide-set almond shaped eyes, hands too small and delicate for the body — all the tell tales signs of Downs Syndrome.
As I watched her, my mind wandered to the passage in Scripture where Jesus said, “Blessed are the pure of heart, for they will see God.” Pure in heart. I couldn’t help, at that moment, to think that He certainly must have meant the girl with the singing hands, and others like her, in whom there can be found no guile.
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Here’s another observational piece on the sweetness of Downs children in the church entitled “The Purest Voice.” It was written by my friend Soliloquy back in April who blogs at She Just Had To Say It. A little insider tip, she’s also doing a Give Away today too, so stop by her home page too and check it out.