God Lives under the bed?
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
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
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
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
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
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!
- ?Lv 51 decade agoBest Answer
That is a rather touching story. I have saved it for my brother who teaches special needs children. If you would like to put your name on it or object to me releasing it to him please email me and let me know.
The Monsters under My bed ate God when I was about 4 years old.
- 4 years ago
Can't do it, sorry. If God is everywhere then he is under the bed too. It is unfortunate that someone has made it seem like a bad thing to be gotten. I think it is better he think of God as a protector not a demon. Maybe you can play along with the fantasy and make it like G being under the bed makes it a flying carpet and protects him from any monsters. Just share with your son your beliefs about G and that what you believe is more important than what those other people believe.
- dreamdress2Lv 61 decade ago
That is so beautiful...I sent a copy to my Husband....Do you know the source of that? I would love to read more of their work. Thank you for putting this on. I have always thought, those who live a simple life with a simple dignity, connect with God in a way the rest of us cannot.
- meissen97Lv 61 decade ago
After all the feelings go away and you begin to think about it, ignorance truely is bliss and the uneducated really are religious.
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- Anonymous1 decade ago
God is under the bed, and on the roof, out in the yard, and most important of all in Kevin's heart, and mine and yours.
Since I know God can read this I'll end by saying thanks God, thanks...
- ?Lv 41 decade ago
The boogey man lives under my bed.
- Anonymous1 decade ago
wow thats beautiful
and you got me crying !
makes you think huh ?
- Anonymous1 decade ago
that was so beautiful it bought tears to my eyes.......
- Cat StevensLv 61 decade ago