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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, returning to eat his favorite
macaroni-and-cheese for dinner, and later to bed. The only variation
in the entire scheme are laundry days, 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.
I
don't think Kevin knows anything exists outside 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 or power, and he does not care what brand of clothing he
wears or what kind of food he eats. He recognizes no differences in
people, treating each person as an equal and a friend. 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 submit them to Christ. 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 the Lord.
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 read this, say a prayer. That's all you have to do.
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
"Positive things happen to positive people"
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