Kevin Young writes in his book Cliffhanger:

The runners for the Special Olympic, 400-meter dash were being helped to their marks. As I watched, a gentleman in a three-piece suit jumped up in the stands in front of me and began yelling, "Lenny! Lenny!" An overweight middle-aged man with Down's Syndrome looked up in the direction of the voice.

The gun sounded and the runners leaped forward—all except Lenny, who was dead last and losing ground. He had a preoccupation with his hands, which he wrung furiously as he tried to make his way around the track. Pointing to him, the gentleman in front of me turned and addressed my section of the crowd. "That's my son, Lenny. Isn't he doing great?"

When Lenny reached the last turn on the track, the other runners had already finished. The gentleman began to shout encouragement to his son, throwing his fists in the air in a triumphant gesture. "Great job, Lenny! Way to go, son. Keep going, you're doing great!" He turned to my section again, and reminded us all that his son was about to finish. We applauded dutifully, feeling somewhat embarrassed. When Lenny crossed the finish line, the man made his way down to the track and hugged his son, who was exhausted, drooling, and still wringing his hands.

While I watched them embrace, I began to weep. As I thought about what I saw, it seemed as though God was saying to me, "You're like Lenny in this race I have called you into. You're challenged, perplexed, far behind the pack. Most days, you're a pitiful pile of exhaustion. But I'm here cheering you on. I love you the way that man loves his son."