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GOD LIVES UNDER THE BED
Got this forward today and wanted to share it. May God Bless you all
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
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 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!
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
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 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!
-
phantomfaith - Posts: 195
- Marital Status: Not Interested
oh, to live and love and believe as Kevin does. To not be so encumbered by life and situations and worry and strife and self-absorption.....
the innocence of child-like faith. Is it sinful to want what Kevin has? Is that covetness? again, the thoughts of a carnal mind. May we all seek that child-like faith.
thanks for posting this, Phan. Is much needed.
In Jesus,
love momo
the innocence of child-like faith. Is it sinful to want what Kevin has? Is that covetness? again, the thoughts of a carnal mind. May we all seek that child-like faith.
thanks for posting this, Phan. Is much needed.
In Jesus,
love momo
James 4:10 Humble yourselves in the sight of the Lord, and He shall lift you up.
-
momof3 - Posts: 1402
- Location: Texas
- Marital Status: Not Interested
What a wonderful story and so true, if we all could have that way of thinking, life would be easier to grasp.
Thank you so much Phantom for sharing this message with us.
Sincerely,
Breezy
Thank you so much Phantom for sharing this message with us.
Sincerely,
Breezy
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Life is short, so forgive quickly. Believe slowly. Love truly.
Without God, our week is: Mournday, Tearsday, Wasteday, Thirstday,
Fightday, Shatterday and Sinday. So, allow Him to be with you every
day!
Life is short, so forgive quickly. Believe slowly. Love truly.
Without God, our week is: Mournday, Tearsday, Wasteday, Thirstday,
Fightday, Shatterday and Sinday. So, allow Him to be with you every
day!
-
SimplyBreezy - Posts: 130
- Location: United States
- Marital Status: Waiting on God
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