God lives under the bed.

[Judy Harder]

This is too good not to pass on. Kevin is FREE!  Wish I was.  Some of what Freedom in Christ must surely mean to quite an extent.
MAY GOD'S PEACE FILL YOUR SPIRIT! love, Judy


      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 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 as 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 LIKE ANGELS WHO LIFT US TO OUR FEET WHEN OUR WINGS
HAVE TROUBLE  REMEMBERING HOW TO FLY