“Nobody will understand your playing,” my son’s former music teacher once told him. My son has Down syndrome, and he hears the world in his own way. I believe God shaped his heart that way for a reason.
When he picked up a saxophone, he never wanted to simply follow notes on a page. He wanted to play emotion. His teacher worried and encouraged him to stay within the lines. But jazz doesn’t live inside lines, and neither does the Spirit.
He practiced everywhere after school, in quiet rooms, and in empty hallways. He listened closely and trusted his ears. I watched him pray through sound, even before he knew that was what he was doing. He learned how to improvise.
Now he plays in hospitals for children with cancer. I watch him walk into their rooms with his saxophone and begin softly. The rooms grow still. Some children smile. Some close their eyes.
They don’t ask what the music means. They already understand. Maybe not everyone understands my son’s playing. But God does. And somehow, those kids do too.
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