God Lives 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, 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. 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. There is nothing attached. This is powerful. Just send
this to four people and do not break this, please. Prayer is one of the best
gifts we can give or receive.
FRIENDS ARE ANGELS WHO LIFT US TO OUR FEET
WHEN OUR WINGS HAVE TROUBLE REMEMBERING HOW TO FLY.
