Post by Paddy by Grace on Mar 4, 2010 9:17:22 GMT -7
Yes I put this here b/c... it is a study, just a different kind of study.
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 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 und
> er 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
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 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 und
> er 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