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
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 are
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!