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.
A
PRAYER, THE
POWER OF PRAYER.
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 free gifts we receive.
There is no
cost but a lot of rewards.