Our pastor was introducing a new sermon series about beauty when these four words, which I had never strung together before, which I did not want to string together, took up residence in my brain. My response was swift and prickly.
The beauty of disability?
Why would I consider such a thing?
Photo by Motoki Tonn on Unsplash
Several images flashed by in rapid succession:
My father was in a hospital bed, his once strong body; ravaged by multiple sclerosis.
My 2-day-old son splayed in a NICU isolette, his abdomen marred by post-surgical incisions.
My elderly mother leaning sideways in her recliner at the long-term care facility where she lives.
My eyes began to well with tears. My heart ached for the pain and loss experienced by people I love dearly. Where was the beauty in their disabilities?
I fought for control and turned my attention back to the pastor as he read Genesis 1:27:
And God created man in His own image, in the image of God He created him; male and female He created them. (NASB)
The pastor explained how God revealed his beauty in the act of creation. And we, as humans, are created in God's image. We bear the image of His beauty even as our hearts long for its fullness of it.
Wait a minute!
I believe that God's creation reveals His beauty.
I believe that all humans bear the image of God.
I believe that when we say all humans, that includes those with disabilities.
I believe that those with disabilities reveal God's beauty.
Therefore, I believe in the beauty of disability.
I abandoned the sermon for the time being––I could watch the video online later, right?––and reviewed the images that had tugged at my heart and brought me to tears just moments ago.
My father was in that hospital bed, his eyes lighting with joy when Mom entered the room. She devoted 38 years to his care. His adoration for her grew stronger by the day. Eventually, he forgot his children's names. He forgot he had children. But he never forgot Mom. Though their love story had pain and loss, it was still beautiful.
My 2-day-old son was in the NICU, marred by incisions. My now 40-year-old son is alive in his kitchen this summer, changing his shirt and revealing faded, faint scars on his abdomen. Those scars bear witness to the physical, emotional, and spiritual healing he has undergone. None of it was easy—much of it was painful. All of it, in its mysterious way, is beautiful.
My mother, who will be 94 this month (though she insists she's 99), straightens in her recliner when I bring out the Uno cards. She sports an impish grin when she bends the rules––whether intentionally or because her mind can't hold onto them, I don't know––and wins the hand. During our games, she forgets how much she misses her husband. She forgets her surroundings and simply plays. She plays as my hard-working, budget-conscious, responsibility-ridden mother never allowed herself to play. Her momentary delight, joy in the game, and childlike spirit are beautiful, and I am blessed to witness all of this.
Though I can see the beauty of disability in these reframed images, a dark side remains.
There is beauty in disability, but it is still a daily challenge.
It is full of loss.
It requires sacrifice.
It hurts.
Oh, how it hurts.
The loss, the sacrifice, the hurt, and the beauty of disability remind me of Jesus.
He is more than God's image-bearer.
He is the revelation of God's beauty on this earth
He is a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief.
He is with us in the hard, the loss, the sacrifice, and the pain of disability.
He embraces every aspect of disability, and in so doing, he reveals its beauty.
Jolene Philo is the author of several books for the caregiving community. She speaks at parenting and special needs conferences around the country. She's also the creator and host of the Different Dream website. Sharing Love Abundantly With Special Needs Families: The 5 Love Languages® for Parents Raising Children with Disabilities, which she co-authored with Dr. Gary Chapman, was released in August of 2019 and is available at local bookstores, their bookstore website, and Amazon. See Jane Run!, the first book in the West River cozy mystery series was released in June of 2022.
