Sunday, August 31, 2008
Saturday, August 30, 2008
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 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 ta kes 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!
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 ta kes 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!
Tuesday, August 19, 2008
Today
TODAY ... I will remember that yesterday could have been my last.
TODAY ... I will remind myself that I have great friends.
TODAY ... I will be a good friend to someone who needs one.
TODAY ... I will rejoice that I have family who loves me.
TODAY ... I will be confident knowing someone believes in me.
TODAY ... I will help someone less fortunate, because it is the right thing to do.
TODAY ... I will reflect upon the impact I have on other peoples lives, and I will make sure that reflection is a positive one.
TODAY ... I will make sure my family knows how much they mean to me.
TODAY ... I will stop everything for just a minute, to revel in the moment, to partake of the goodness life has to offer.
TODAY ... I will watch some children play, and be happy for them.
TODAY ... I will listen to some music, just to soothe my soul.
TODAY ... I will observe a moment of silence, so that I might appreciate the "noise."
TODAY ... I will be mindful of those who are in pain.
TODAY ... I will let that other car in front of me.
TODAY ... I will not be in such a hurry.
TODAY ... I will say "hello" or "good morning" to a stranger.
TODAY ... I will wave at other people on their way to work.
TODAY ... I will laugh, because I should.
TODAY ... I will smile, because I need to.
TODAY ... I will think of God, because I live in a country where I am allowed to.
TODAY ... I will think about what it personally means to me when I see an American flag.
TODAY ... I will be as honest a person as I can be.
TODAY ... I will tell a veteran "Thank You", for making all of these things possible.
TODAY ... I will commit myself to voting this year, because I have the right to.
TODAY ... I will watch the sunset, and tell someone close to me how beautiful it was.
TODAY ... I will be thankful to be alive.
TODAY ... I will be grateful to be an American.
TODAY ... I will promise to do these things again tomorrow.
This message brought to you by: Sandy H. Drifter
.
TODAY ... I will remind myself that I have great friends.
TODAY ... I will be a good friend to someone who needs one.
TODAY ... I will rejoice that I have family who loves me.
TODAY ... I will be confident knowing someone believes in me.
TODAY ... I will help someone less fortunate, because it is the right thing to do.
TODAY ... I will reflect upon the impact I have on other peoples lives, and I will make sure that reflection is a positive one.
TODAY ... I will make sure my family knows how much they mean to me.
TODAY ... I will stop everything for just a minute, to revel in the moment, to partake of the goodness life has to offer.
TODAY ... I will watch some children play, and be happy for them.
TODAY ... I will listen to some music, just to soothe my soul.
TODAY ... I will observe a moment of silence, so that I might appreciate the "noise."
TODAY ... I will be mindful of those who are in pain.
TODAY ... I will let that other car in front of me.
TODAY ... I will not be in such a hurry.
TODAY ... I will say "hello" or "good morning" to a stranger.
TODAY ... I will wave at other people on their way to work.
TODAY ... I will laugh, because I should.
TODAY ... I will smile, because I need to.
TODAY ... I will think of God, because I live in a country where I am allowed to.
TODAY ... I will think about what it personally means to me when I see an American flag.
TODAY ... I will be as honest a person as I can be.
TODAY ... I will tell a veteran "Thank You", for making all of these things possible.
TODAY ... I will commit myself to voting this year, because I have the right to.
TODAY ... I will watch the sunset, and tell someone close to me how beautiful it was.
TODAY ... I will be thankful to be alive.
TODAY ... I will be grateful to be an American.
TODAY ... I will promise to do these things again tomorrow.
This message brought to you by: Sandy H. Drifter
.
Wednesday, August 13, 2008
This Poem Will Give You Goosebumps
A drunk man in an Oldsmobile
They said had run the light
That caused the six-car pileup
On 109 that night.
When broken bodies lay about
'And blood was everywhere,'
'The sirens screamed out eulogies,'
For death was in the air.
'A mother, trapped inside her car,'
Was heard above the noise;
Her plaintive plea near split the air:
'Oh, God, please spare my boys!'
She fought to loose her pinned hands;
'She struggled to get free,'
But mangled metal held her fast
In grim captivity.
Her frightened eyes then focused
'On where the back seat once had been,'
But all she saw was broken glass and
Two children's seats crushed in.
Her twins were nowhere to be seen;
'She did not hear them cry, '
'And then she prayed they'd been thrown free, '
'Oh, God, don't let them die! '
Then firemen came and cut her loose, '
'But when they searched the back, '
'They found therein no little boys, '
But the seat belts were intact.
They thought the woman had gone mad
'And was traveling alone, '
'But when they turned to question her, '
They discovered she was gone.
Policemen saw her running wild
And screaming above the noise
'In beseeching supplication, '
Please help me find my boys!
They're four years old and wear blue shirts;
'Their jeans are blue to match.''
'One cop spoke up, ''They're in my car, '
And they don't have a scratch.
They said their daddy put them there
'And gave them each a cone, '
Then told them both to wait for Mom
To come and take them home.
'I've searched the area high and low, '
But I can't find their dad.
'He must have fled the scene, '
'I guess, and that is very bad.'
'The mother hugged the twins and said, '
'While wiping at a tear, '
'He could not flee the scene, you see, '
'For he's been dead a year.'
'The cop just looked confused and asked, '
'Now, how can that be true? '
'The boys said, ''Mommy, Daddy came '
'And left a kiss for you.'' '
He told us not to worry
'And that you would be all right, '
And then he put us in this car with
'The pretty, flashing light. '
'We wanted him to stay with us, '
'Because we miss him so, '
'But Mommy, he just hugged us tight '
And said he had to go.
He said someday we'd understand
'And told us not to fuss, '
'And he said to tell you, Mommy, '
'He's watching over us.'
The mother knew without a doubt
'That what they spoke was true, '
'For she recalled their dad's last words,
' I will watch over you.'
The firemen's notes could not explain
'The twisted, mangled car, '
And how the three of them escaped
Without a single scar.
'But on the cop's report was scribed, '
'In print so very fine, '
An angel walked the beat tonight
on Highway 109.
.
They said had run the light
That caused the six-car pileup
On 109 that night.
When broken bodies lay about
'And blood was everywhere,'
'The sirens screamed out eulogies,'
For death was in the air.
'A mother, trapped inside her car,'
Was heard above the noise;
Her plaintive plea near split the air:
'Oh, God, please spare my boys!'
She fought to loose her pinned hands;
'She struggled to get free,'
But mangled metal held her fast
In grim captivity.
Her frightened eyes then focused
'On where the back seat once had been,'
But all she saw was broken glass and
Two children's seats crushed in.
Her twins were nowhere to be seen;
'She did not hear them cry, '
'And then she prayed they'd been thrown free, '
'Oh, God, don't let them die! '
Then firemen came and cut her loose, '
'But when they searched the back, '
'They found therein no little boys, '
But the seat belts were intact.
They thought the woman had gone mad
'And was traveling alone, '
'But when they turned to question her, '
They discovered she was gone.
Policemen saw her running wild
And screaming above the noise
'In beseeching supplication, '
Please help me find my boys!
They're four years old and wear blue shirts;
'Their jeans are blue to match.''
'One cop spoke up, ''They're in my car, '
And they don't have a scratch.
They said their daddy put them there
'And gave them each a cone, '
Then told them both to wait for Mom
To come and take them home.
'I've searched the area high and low, '
But I can't find their dad.
'He must have fled the scene, '
'I guess, and that is very bad.'
'The mother hugged the twins and said, '
'While wiping at a tear, '
'He could not flee the scene, you see, '
'For he's been dead a year.'
'The cop just looked confused and asked, '
'Now, how can that be true? '
'The boys said, ''Mommy, Daddy came '
'And left a kiss for you.'' '
He told us not to worry
'And that you would be all right, '
And then he put us in this car with
'The pretty, flashing light. '
'We wanted him to stay with us, '
'Because we miss him so, '
'But Mommy, he just hugged us tight '
And said he had to go.
He said someday we'd understand
'And told us not to fuss, '
'And he said to tell you, Mommy, '
'He's watching over us.'
The mother knew without a doubt
'That what they spoke was true, '
'For she recalled their dad's last words,
' I will watch over you.'
The firemen's notes could not explain
'The twisted, mangled car, '
And how the three of them escaped
Without a single scar.
'But on the cop's report was scribed, '
'In print so very fine, '
An angel walked the beat tonight
on Highway 109.
.
Monday, August 04, 2008
Locked Gates
The Upper Room
Monday, August 04, 2008
The Locked Gate
Read Matthew 7:7-14
To him who by the power at work within us is able to accomplish abundantly far more than all we can ask or imagine, to him be glory.
-Ephesians 3:20-21 (NRSV)
AS a friend and I approached the entrance to the retreat center, we noticed the gate was closed with a chain draped around it. We stopped the car and wondered what to do. We honked the horn, but no one responded. We pressed the doorbell, but no one answered. We tried to phone the caretaker, but no one picked up.
After 10 minutes, we were beginning to get frustrated as the hot South African sun climbed higher in the sky. My friend walked up to the gate again and toyed with the padlock. To his surprise, the chain was not locked! He swung open the gate with ease and we entered the grounds, laughing heartily at our foolishness.
Throughout our lives, we encounter many closed doors, barred paths, and shuttered windows. But sometimes we assume that they are locked up tight; we don't even try to open them first. Instead, like my friend and me on that summer day, we worry, fret, and sweat!
The truth is that we have the spirit of God within us. When we are bold enough to attempt what God asks, with God's help, we will find gates swinging wide, pathways clearing, and windows thrown open.
Wes Magruder (Yaounde, Cameroon)
Lord, give us confidence and courage to attempt what you ask even when gates appear locked. Amen.
Through the power of the Holy Spirit, we can do far more than we imagine.
Monday, August 04, 2008
The Locked Gate
Read Matthew 7:7-14
To him who by the power at work within us is able to accomplish abundantly far more than all we can ask or imagine, to him be glory.
-Ephesians 3:20-21 (NRSV)
AS a friend and I approached the entrance to the retreat center, we noticed the gate was closed with a chain draped around it. We stopped the car and wondered what to do. We honked the horn, but no one responded. We pressed the doorbell, but no one answered. We tried to phone the caretaker, but no one picked up.
After 10 minutes, we were beginning to get frustrated as the hot South African sun climbed higher in the sky. My friend walked up to the gate again and toyed with the padlock. To his surprise, the chain was not locked! He swung open the gate with ease and we entered the grounds, laughing heartily at our foolishness.
Throughout our lives, we encounter many closed doors, barred paths, and shuttered windows. But sometimes we assume that they are locked up tight; we don't even try to open them first. Instead, like my friend and me on that summer day, we worry, fret, and sweat!
The truth is that we have the spirit of God within us. When we are bold enough to attempt what God asks, with God's help, we will find gates swinging wide, pathways clearing, and windows thrown open.
Wes Magruder (Yaounde, Cameroon)
Lord, give us confidence and courage to attempt what you ask even when gates appear locked. Amen.
Through the power of the Holy Spirit, we can do far more than we imagine.
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