I think of him every single day.  He never had a conversation with me because he could not.  He was unable to take a walk with me or teach me how to do anything.  He could not get down on the floor and play with horses or other toys I may have been interested in that day. He could only respond with his eyes and smile and laugh; or by letting you know you had upset him with his loud, annoyed yells. Many would have considered him "unable to contribute" or worse, "a menace." He was not easy to be around, convenient to care for, or sometimes pleasant to look at. But he was my uncle and I think of him every single day.

I woke early this very morning before daylight with him on my mind.  It brings to mind this verse, "Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight, and sin which clings so closely, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us." 

(Hebrews 12:1) While I do not find in the Bible that those in heaven can see us on earth and I do not know if they can; I do think this verse, in context, points to those who have gone before us and run the race well. 

The race, it is hard, it takes perseverance and endurance. It makes us weary. My uncle, Ray, his race, just the physical and daily living, was I am sure a seemingly long one. He spent each day strapped into a wheelchair because he could not sit upright without support. He had to be fed, assisted in the bathroom, put to bed and gotten up in the morning. He literally had no control over his life and could only really even hold one item at a time.  Some things he could not grasp at all. I remember the little plastic red hammer that was his favorite. Most likely because he father was a builder and farmer and he so longed to be able to help do that work. Ray spent many hours sitting on the front porch waiting to see tractors working in field. I remember watching him look at the men in the fields. His eyes got a deep and faraway look that I know was a longing to join them.

Ray had a sense of humor. He loved to pick on my mother and pretend he was mad at her. He would laugh at Andy Griffith and shout when he heard the name of Jesus in song. He was stuck in a physical body that would not work properly but his mind and heart were exactly the same as mine.  You see, just like myself, Ray was a soul. He is a soul. A soul is eternal. Ray was an image bearer of God, just as every soul is, and because I think of him daily I am reminded that his soul was not wasted in his broken body.  Ray taught me lessons as a child that I will never forsake or forget. Each time I see a person with a disability or special needs I feel as if I already know them in some way.  I know them because I see value and purpose in their life. I see that they too are image bearers.

We long for beauty and perfection. We all do. It drives our entertainment, our obsession with weight, who we idolize and make famous, our commerce, our dating. Think about it. Almost everything in America is sold with beauty or sex. We say we care about equality and rights of each person but when do I see pictures of people like Ray portraying valuable and beautiful things? If Ray was not necessary or of worth why does he live in my daily life and thoughts? Why did he impact my life so profoundly and so many others? He is an image bearer. We all are.

Two other people have recently come into my life that remind me of Ray. One is Summer who volunteers at our local library and one is Grayson, a cute little 2 year old at our church. When I see these two, one a child and one an adult, both with Down Syndrome, I wonder if they realize that I see Christ in them? Maybe I should tell them. In them I see God's image and I see him in their weaknesses and the struggles they have. I see him in the kind, gentle, spirit that they have. Humility is evident, in these two, as it was in Ray. 

Life with special needs or a disability is messy at times. It is difficult, painful, trying, often sorrowful. Why does this remind me of the Savior? Because he lived a humble life that was often very sorrowful. He had no home or place to lay his head so he relied on others to meet his need. He was God, and the image of God, but this did not stop him from becoming lowly, humbled, and bruised for us. His weakness was chosen because of great love. His life was a messy one. His message was messy. It was not a popular, shiny, easy, beautiful message. Yet, the result of accepting him as Savior means that life, for us,becomes beautiful. I believe that Summer and Grayson make life more beautiful for others. I know Ray did. His caregivers gave our family a book of remembrances of Ray, after his death. Here are some words they used to describe him....

Happy. Fun. Life Changer. A man of value and worth. Humble. Legacy. Important. Beautiful Soul. Friend. 

And I would add, an image bearer.