More Important to read than Artist of the day… For my friends

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 speculates 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!
When you receive this, say a prayer.

That’s all you have to do.

Prayer is one of the best free gifts we receive.
There is no cost, but a lot of rewards.

LIVE WELL… LAUGH MUCH… LOVE OFTEN

And now a note from me..

I wish beyond all that I could just stay in the moment and believe. Today that’s what I’ll work on.. How about you?

img_0641-small.jpg Pictured.. My daughter Isabel.. My inspiration for believing, simply.

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