Kevin
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 a7-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 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.
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 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!
