Samuel's Ministry on Earth

Samuel before his cognitive decline

 

    When Samuel was born, I had grand visions and ambitions of all the things I wanted to teach him.  He was going to be a world-famous pianist, an NBA basketball player, a multi-billion-dollar entrepreneur, and the most articulate scholar.  Any progress he made in life filled me with such pride as I watched him get better and better at everything he did.

    This last Sunday, our special angel friends in the library at our Church building brought some wooden puzzles for Samuel to play with.  These were puzzles designed for toddlers, where you pick up the firetruck and put it in the spot where a firetruck fits.  As always, our friends’ faces lit up as they watched Samuel struggle to complete this puzzle.  Each time Samuel found the right spot for a piece, his mouth would open wide in delight and he would jump and flap his hands.  Our friends were so patient as Samuel would have seizure after seizure while trying to accomplish this task.  They would quietly grab a tissue and wipe the drool off the counter and from Samuel’s face, before he would come out of his seizure and continue joyfully working on the puzzle.

    Watching my son struggle with this toddler puzzle bought back memories of years ago, when my bright little boy could complete a 70+ piece puzzle on his own.  He could read and write fluently, and when we sang songs at night before we went to bed, he would harmonize with me, or would sing in rounds with me.  Sometimes I would struggle to keep the rhythm he so effortlessly kept.  He was so brilliant, and I was so full of pride for my son.  Now, he struggles to complete a puzzle made for a two-year-old, and needs a bib all day long because his drool no longer stays in his mouth.

    All that ambition and pride I once had is now gone.  And while the pain in my heart is poignant, I am so grateful for that pride being taken away, as it has been replaced with a special and sacred humility.  I have been called by the Lord to be my son’s companion, and it is my privilege to stand by and bear witness of my son’s ministry.  Every week, I watch in awe as our son, who can barely speak any longer, brings the light of Jesus Christ into the lives of so many people around him. 

    A couple weeks ago, Samuel spoke to our congregation with the rest of the church kids his age.  The other kids did a wonderful job, reading long, written out statements of their testimony of Jesus.  Samuel only said two sentences: “I chose to be baptized to follow Jesus.  I love Jesus.”  It took him a minute and a half to say these ten words, and he had three seizures while doing so.  After he was finished, I immediately received text messages from members of the congregation, letting me know how strongly they felt the love of God in their hearts as they listened to Samuel’s testimony.  His therapist, who was his helper while he was speaking to the congregation, thanked us, told us how special that moment was for her, and expressed all the sweet feelings she had in her heart as she was up there with him.

    Jesus never commanded us to become world famous pianists or NBA basketball players.  But this commandment he did give: “Let your light so shine before men that they may see your good works and glorify your Father in Heaven.”

    The time is fast approaching when Samuel will have no voice at all.  The time is coming when he will leave this Earth to be received into the bosom of Jesus Christ.  Until that time comes, I will stand in sacred awe as a witness to all the light he shines.  And when that time does come, I will be filled with gratitude.  I will be grateful for every moment I had the privilege of spending with him, and I will be grateful for a loving Father in Heaven, Who I know will take good care of that special little boy.