In Him

(An email story I recieved today- you may have seen it before, but I think it’s worth the read again.)

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!