God Lives Under the Bed

Shared with me by my neighbor, Kay

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, e

ager 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 or 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 more happy than 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.
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 is his closest companion.  

In my  moments of doubt and  frustrations with 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!