I received
this by email in Dec. 07.
It really really touched
my heart and I wanted to
share it with everytone.
Enjoy! / ~ Kris
ml teeb
templates, christ
God
Lives Under The Bed
I envy
Kevin. My brother Kevin
thinks God lives under
his bed. At least that's
what I heard him say one
night.
He was praying out loud
in his dark bedroom, and
I stopped to listen, 'Are
you there, God?' he said.
'Where are you? Oh, I
see. Under the bed...'
I giggled softly and
tiptoed off to my own
room. Kevin's unique
perspectives are often a
source of amusement. But
that night something else
lingered long after the
humor. I realized for the
first time the very
different world Kevin
lives in.
He was born 30 years ago,
mentally disabled as a
result of difficulties
during labor. Apart from
his size (he's 6-foot-2),
there are few ways in
which he is an adult.
He reasons and
communicates with the
capabilities of a
7-year-old, and he always
will. He will probably
always believe that God
lives under his bed, that
Santa Claus is the one
who fills the space under
our tree every Christmas
and that airplanes stay
up in the sky because
angels carry them.
I remember wondering if
Kevin realizes he is
different. Is he ever
dissatisfied with his
monotonous life?
Up before dawn each day,
off to work at a workshop
for the disabled, home to
walk our cocker spaniel,
return to eat his
favorite
macaroni-and-cheese for
dinner, a nd later to
bed.
The only variation in the
entire scheme is laundry,
when he hovers excitedly
over the washing machine
like a mother with her
newborn child.
He does not seem
dissatisfied.
He lopes out to the bus
every morning at 7:05,
eager for a day of simple
work.
He wrings his hands
excitedly while the water
boils on the stove before
dinner, and he stays up
late twice a week to
gather our dirty laundry
for his next day's
laundry chores.
And Saturdays-oh, the
bliss of Saturdays!
That's the day my Dad
takes Kevin to the
airport to hav e a soft
drink, watch the planes
land, and speculate
loudly on the destination
of each passenger inside.
'That one's goin' to
Chi-car-go!' Kevin shouts
as he claps his hands.
His anticipation is so
great he can hardly sleep
on Friday nights.
And so goes his world of
daily rituals and weekend
field trips.
He doesn't know what it
means to be discontent.
His life is simple.
He will never know the
entanglements of wealth
of power, and he does not
care what brand of
clothing he wears or what
kind of food he eats. His
needs have always been
met, and he never worries
that one day they may not
be.
His hands are diligent.
Kevin is never so happy
as when he is working.
When he unloads the
dishwasher or vacuums the
carpet, his heart is
completely in it.
He does not shrink from a
job when it is begun, and
he does not leave a job
until it is finished. But
when his tasks are done,
Kevin knows how to relax.
He is not obsessed with
his work or the work of
others. His heart is
pure.
He still believes
everyone tells the truth,
promises must be kept,
and when you are wrong,
you apologize instead of
argue.
Free from pride and
unconcerned with
appearances, Kevin is not
afraid to cry when he is
hurt, angry or sorry. He
is always transparent,
always sincere. And he
trusts God.
Not confined by
intellectual reasoning,
when he comes to Christ,
he comes as a child.
Kevin seems to know God -
to really be friends with
Him in a way that is
difficult for an
'educated' person to
grasp. God seems like his
closest companion.
In my moments of doubt
and frustrations with my
Christianity I envy the
security Kevin has in his
simple faith.
It is then that I am most
willing to admit that he
has some divine knowledge
that rises above my
mortal questions
It is then I realize that
perhaps he is not the one
with the handicap I am.
My obligations, my fear,
my pride, my
circumstances - they all
become disabilities when
I do not trust them to
God's care
Who knows if Kevin
comprehends things I can
never learn? After all,
he has spent his whole
life in that kind of
innocence, praying after
dark and soaking up the
goodness and love of God.
And one day, when the
mysteries of heaven are
opened, and we are all
amazed at how close God
really is to our hearts,
I'll realize that God
heard the simple prayers
of a boy who believed
that God lived under his
bed.
Gabriel
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