Colonel Ian Swan: The Blessings of his Servant Heart

My experiences living in dorm with him at the College for Officer Training

I have had more time to process the passing of Colonel Ian Swan, one of my sessionmates. There will be a Celebration of Life service on August 23rd. Here is the link with all the details.

I have some thoughts to share about Ian's character and what I learned from him.

I offer my condolences to Colonel Wendy Swan and her children, Jason and Brianna. I am sad that Ian is no longer with us. I am glad for him, though. He is enjoying eternity in Heaven. When our work for our Lord is done, we will see him again. What a day of rejoicing that will be!

I pray my tribute to Ian will comfort and encourage you..

A multifaceted man

There are many things I could say about Ian. The thing about my sessionmate in the Messengers of Peace session from 1985 to 1987 at the College for Officer Training in Toronto, Canada, is that no matter what I say, it wouldn't capture all he was to those who knew and loved him.

Ian filled a room with his presence. When he laughed, you found yourself laughing too.

From joy to friction

But it wasn't all joy living in the single men's dorm. We learned to live together and work out our differences. That gave us better practical training in conflict resolution than any textbook.

Ian often stayed up through part of the night doing his Braille lessons. He was taking a course from the Canadian National Institute for the Blind (CNIB) on how to transcribe braille. Ian's braille typewriter made a loud clicking sound every time he pressed a key against heavy paper. It had to be thicker so the letters would show.

Enough already with the clicking

Click. Click. Click. I looked at my clock. It was 1 a.m. I thought, "In five hours, I have to get up to shower." If you were among the last to have a shower, the water was so cold. How cold was it? It was so cold it jolted me into wakefulness before my body was ready for it. That motivated us to get up early for a hot shower.

A pillow around my ears

I put my pillow around my ears to muffle the sound of the Braile typewriter. Half an hour later, Ian said something like "Oh, no" loudly. I think he made a transcription error.

A long night

I looked at the clock again. It was 1:45 a.m. Four hours later, I had to get up. I wouldn't be sharp for my morning classes and field training. I said a prayer asking God to guide me in what to say to Ian and how to do it. I was angry with him for keeping me awake.

Finally, I was able to get a little more sleep.

Then, I heard click, click, click. Maybe Ian had taken a coffee break and was back at it again. I looked at my clock. It was 3 a.m. Three hours until getting up. I lifted another prayer to our Father. "Lord, I pray Ian will be finished with his lesson soon. I can't stand the racket."

The clicking ceases

There was no sound. I breathed a sigh of relief. I fell back asleep until the alarm on my clock rang.

Memory of that conversation

It was 38 years ago, so my memory of the exact words I used in that morning conversation with Ian are sketchy. My wife, Karen, teases me when I forget things. "That's because you're old." Well, I'm not that old. Neither is Karen. We are considered young senior citizens.

The morning after the clicking

Ian had a towel over his shoulder. He was heading for the bathroom. I said, "Ian, I know you are busy with your day, but I need to talk to you about something. Could I have just a few minutes of your time?" He replied, "I'm sorry, Kevin. I kept you awake. I had to do my Braille transcription lesson. I'm too busy to do it at any other time. I will put a towel underneath my Braille typewriter to reduce the sound it makes."

Thank God for the blessing of earplugs

I bought some earplugs. When Ian did future lessons, the clatter, while noticeable, was reduced enough that I could sleep better. I thanked Ian for solving the problem. I was grateful to God for those earplugs. It wasn't the perfect solution, but it was better than insomnia.

The reason I was upset with Ian seems insignificant now.

God taught me that when He has someone doing kingdom work, I have to be prepared to accept some discomfort.

A servant heart who filled my life with joy

Ian had a beautiful servant heart. He saw me struggling to read. I had a high degree of astigmatism in both eyes. One day, Ian saw me squinting. I was struggling with my eyesight. I was reading a book with my dorm room open. Ian said, "Kevin, can I show you something that will help you with your reading?" I replied, "Yes, Ian, that would be good."

An eye tube to help me see what I read

Ian showed me how I could read and do research for essays without straining my eyes. He asked for a sheet of paper, which I gave him. He rolled it into the shape of a tube. He said, "Look through the tube with one of your eyes." When I did it was much easier to read. Ian said, "Kevin, do that with each eye. It will strengthen your eye muscles."

The helper

I smiled as I said, "Ian, thanks for your help." He smiled back.

Ian could have said nothing, but that wasn't in his character. Whenever he could help, he did.

I felt lighter around Ian. He taught me to live in the moment, to feel every bit of it.

When I think about Ian's joy for life and his love for others, this Scripture verse comes to mind. "These things I have spoken to you so that My joy may be in you, and that your joy may be made full." (John 15:11, NASB)

Importance of resolving conflict

Ian, thank you for teaching me that we need to endure discomfort when we know people are doing kingdom work. The issues we are having with others can be resolved if we are willing. If we are not, we need to ask our Father for the willingness to be made willing.

A life lived for others

I will never forget how Ian cared about others. He would go out of his way to be there for them.

Ian, thank you for your servant heart. Thank you for that eye tube. Thank you for teaching me how to love others with Christ's joy living inside me.