Another Reader-Submitted CCCE

Holy shit, it’s been two weeks since I updated? I’ve been lazy busy* lately, but I’m back with another submission from Matt. 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 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 under 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.

Just send this to people, 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

Oh boy, a Magical Retard. Some choice quotes:

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.

Not confined by intellectual reasoning, when he comes to Christ, he
comes as a child.

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?

Is that really what Christians want? To turn off their brains and accept everything on faith, reducing themselves cognitively to the level of a child or mentally handicapped adult? Does the author really mean to equate Kevin’s belief in a god with his believing in Santa Claus and angels holding up planes and that nobody lies?

Scoring- points for:
Attempting to promote religion through the use of analogy/metaphor/simile/”true story” that makes it look unappealing to those outside the religion.

Magical Retarded Guy

I promise I’ll get back into this.

*At first I wrote “busty” here, which I have been, but it really doesn’t take up much of my time.

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2 Responses to Another Reader-Submitted CCCE

  1. ollysk2 says:

    holy crap, pun intended, I love the line where they talk about not being hampered by intellect.

    Well, they are right about one thing: they are truly not hampered by their intellect!

    :)

    -olly

  2. Lola says:

    No one is concerned that he sees “God” under his bed?

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