from a good friend.
God Lives Under The Bed
I think this is perhaps one of the BEST email 'forwards' I
have ever read. I hope you will enjoy it half as much as I
have!!
Don't start reading this one until you've got more than 3 or
4 minutes to just 'scan' over it. It deserves some time for
reflection.
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!
