Kevin
PostPosted: Sat Oct 09, 2004 4:14 pm
My Dad e-mailed me this i thought it was real good so i wanted to share this with you peoples, enjoy 
> > >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
> > >(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 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 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 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 t hat 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!
> > >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
> > >(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 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 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 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 t hat 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!
/ 
That was very touching.... Thanks for sharing that.