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God's under the Bed 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 outside
his closed door 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,
returning to eat his favorite
macaroni and cheese for dinner,
and later to bed. The only
variation in the entire scheme
are laundry days, 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. I
don't think Kevin knows anything
exists outside 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. He recognizes no
differences in people, treating
each person as an equal and a
friend. 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
submit them to Christ. 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 the Lord. 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.
LET US COME TOGETHER IN PRAYER
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Pray our Lord will bless them and open their hearts
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