Sunday, March 8, 2009

An Inspirational Story...

I received this in an email from my friend, Sharon. It
was authored by Kelly Adkins. I hope it brings you as
big a smile as it did me. I hope everyone is having
a lovely Sunday!! Val =)

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 in which Kevin lives. 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...

- Kelly Adkins -

1 comment:

  1. God Bless.........such a lovely story.

    Hug, Rose


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