"Jesus Loves Me"--In Memory of Don Toncray

Yesterday we attended the memorial service of a dear man, Don Toncray, who had for a number of years attended our church with those who have given him care. 

As I understand it, the only son of his parents, Don has no living relatives.

Don's parents had attended the Methodist church in town, and it was here in this little chapel that Don had been baptized on the confession of his faith in Christ, the congregation was told.

The chapel of the United Methodist Church in the middle of town was packed.

Three different people shared memories, one who was friends with Don since Don was a little boy, brain damaged at birth yet having an almost photographic memory and remembering almost everyone he came in contact with.

Our pastor led in the song, "Jesus Loves Me," which was Don's favorite, and which he loved to help sing, without the stuttering that usually hampered him when he tried to talk.

I was wiping tears as we sang this simple song, thinking about this simple man, 

and wondering if we wouldn't all do better to be more simple, like him. 

Our former pastor, Bro. Hunt, had been asked to speak for the funeral, and he shared memories and sang a song with two of his grandchildren, about Jesus' little lamb.

Raised with love and kindness showered on him by loving parents, Don was known for being loving and trusting of everyone.
He was also known for his unique sense of humor. 

Some of us only knew snatches about this amazing man, as he came to church and sometimes shared a stuttered prayer request or even asked to go up front and sing or have some kind of thought to share. 

He always made us smile, and didn't seem to mind what anyone thought of him. 

He was very secure.

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 We were deeply touched to hear what happened the day before he died. He had been in a lot of pain but that morning, he told his caregiver excitedly that Jesus had come to him, through the ceiling, and had pushed him where the pain was, and now he wasn't hurting anymore.

"I'm healed!" he exclaimed.

He also told the caregiver that Jesus had told him that He was coming again.

And Jesus did come.

About 2:00 the next morning, after being up with Don, when the caregiver came to bring Don a drink, Don had suddenly gone. 

Jesus had come for his "little lamb."

I had heard that story a few days ago, and later I thought how easy it is to not value someone like Don. 

He doesn't seem as smart and intelligent as others, yet in reality he was probably smarter than some of us who can't remember faces or names from one day to the next. 

And I thought how if God valued Don enough to appear to him, shouldn't we value him enough to attend his memorial service?

Obviously many others felt the same way.

A picture of Don years ago, with his mother, apparently in Hawaii.

Afterward, we met Donald Lefever, our dear friend, who had given Don Toncray singing lessons many years ago after it had been discovered that he could sing flawlessly even though he stuttered when he tried to talk.

This Bible was open on the table of memoirs.

And so I kept thinking and wondering,

what if we were more like Don?
What if we believed more, instead of trying to understand?

Constantly surrounded by the loving care provided by his parents or caregivers that they were able to generously provide, Don learned to trust and love everyone.

instead of feeling frozen and alone in a world of ice.

Instead of waiting, paralyzed, for all his fears to come true,

he enjoyed the serenity of wonderful care because of the generous provisions of parents of means.

And we, too, all of us,

have a Father who provides for us and a Savior Who died for us.

Like Don, when we are unable to understand,
let's just hold His hand,
and believe.