The other night at church I noticed a young woman with Down’s Syndrome several seats ahead of me. As we entered into a time of singing, I found myself in awe of the way she worshipped.  She was so remarkably animated, raising her hands and singing as if every verse was part of a personal conversation with God. I got weepy as I took stock of my stiff and reserved worship. I had entered the sanctuary with an outward smiley face yet my interior wept. I entered impatiently waiting for God to answer my prayers while she praised God as if all of hers had come true. I couldn’t help but think that I was actually the one who was disabled. She offered her entire spiritual fortune as an offering of praise, while I begrudgingly tossed in a few coins. I felt like a court jester trying to amuse royalty while this young lady bowed her knee to the King – Tears of a clown lying at the feet of a joyful princess.

You have turned for me my mourning into dancing;

      you have loosed my sackcloth

      and clothed me with gladness,

that my glory may sing your praise and not be silent.

      O Lord my God, I will give thanks to you forever! (Psalm 30:11-12)