O
OnaMission
Guest
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 (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 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.
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 (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 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.