FOODFORTHOUGHT

Don't start reading this one until you've got more than 3 or 4
minutes to just "scan" over it. It deserves some time for
reflection.


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 discontented.

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 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!

When you receive this, say a prayer. That's all you have to do.
There is nothing attached. This is powerful.

Just send this to four people and do not break this, please. Prayer
is one of the best free gifts we receive. There is no cost, but a
lot of rewards.

FRIENDS ARE ANGELS WHO LIFT US TO OUR FEET WHEN OUR WINGS HAVE
TROUBLE REMEMBERING HOW TO FLY.

PRAYER
"Lord Jesus Christ, your call to holiness extends to all in every state of life. Sanctify our lives — as married couples and as singles — that we may live as men and women who are consecrated to you. Make us leaven in a society that disdains life-long marriage fidelity, chastity, and living single for the Lord".

--~--~---------~--~----~------------~-------~--~----~

You received this message because you are subscribed to the Google Groups

"F O O D F O R T H O U G H T" Group.

To subscribe: subscribe@dailyfoodforthought.org

To unsubscribe from this group, send email to DailyFoodForThought-unsubscribe@googlegroups.com

For more options, visit this group at http://groups.google.com/group/DailyFoodForThought

DISCLAIMER: FoodForThought shared this message as submitted and do not claim to own any copyright privileges on it. All the messages are believed to be free for circulation or public domain. All messages come in either by email in original form or copied from the internet sites. The work was submitted to us as an item for distribution, and it was posted solely on the basis of its quality. It's a FREE service.

© 2006 FoodForThought

-~----------~----~----~----~------~----~------~--~---