[CS-FSLUG] God Lives Under the Bed...

[Fred A. Miller]

  God Lives 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, 
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 speculates 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, mycircumstances - 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.

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! When you receive this, say a 
prayer. That's all you have to do. Prayer is one of the best free gifts 
we give or receive. There is no cost, but a lot of rewards.

-- 
The only bug free software from MickySoft is still shrink-wrapped
in their warehouse..."