God lives under the bed

A beautiful story I thought I'd share. Enjoy!


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, and 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 have 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.

Kevin won't be surprised at all!

FRIENDS ARE ANGELS WHO LIFT US TO OUR FEET WHEN OUR WINGS HAVE TROUBLE REMEMBERING HOW TO FLY.