“Unless you become more like children, you’ll never enter Heaven."
~ Matthew 18:3
We were invited by some friends
for dinner at their home - a place off the beaten path that provides a great
setting for reflective conversation. One
of the highlights is always their son Kevin who greeted me with a throaty hug
and “I love you!”
Kevin was born mentally disabled 21 years ago. Apart from his size, there are few ways in
which he’s an adult. He reasons and communicates
with the abilities of a 7-year-old, and always will.
After our initial welcome, Kevin returned to one of his
favorite pastimes – swinging on the rope swing his Dad hung years ago from an
oak tree in the backyard. Not until he
sat on the weathered seat, and tightly clutched the frayed cords, did he
finally release all the stress that everyday encounters present. Kevin closed his eyes, relishing the almost-floating
sensation and returned to his own world.
“Does Kevin realize he’s different?” I asked Dave, his
father. “Do you wonder if he’s satisfied
with his life?”
Dave pondered the question before
answering:
Dave pondered the question before
answering:
“Kevin doesn’t recognize
differences in people,” Dave began, “he treats everybody as a friend. His heart is pure. His needs have always been met, and he never
worries that one day they won’t be.”
Kevin is never happier then when
he is working. Whether he unloads the
dishwasher, vacuums the carpet, or walks the dog, his heart is completely
engaged. When his tasks are complete, he
knows how to relax.”
“Kevin believes everyone tells
the truth, promises must be kept, and when you’re wrong you apologize instead
of argue. Free from pride and
unconcerned with appearances, Kevin is not afraid to cry when he’s hurt, angry
or sorry. He’s totally 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’s
difficult for “educated” people to grasp.
God seems like his closest companion.”
“In fact,” Dave confessed, “I
envy the simplicity and security of Kevin’s faith.”
It’s then I realized that Kevin’s not the one with the
handicap - I am. My obligations, my fears,
my ego, my circumstances - they all become disabilities when I don’t submit
them to Christ.
Perhaps Kevin comprehends things I can never learn? After all, he’s spent his whole life in that
kind of innocence, praying after dark and soaking up the goodness and love of Christ.
And one day, when the mysteries of
heaven are revealed, and we’re all amazed at how closely God lives in our
hearts, maybe I’ll know that God absolutely heard the simple prayers from the man
on a rope swing. Kevin won’t be
surprised at all.
Dear Lord, thank You for all the people who
enrich my life and make it meaningful by their true friendship. Let them live under Your care and bless them
always. Amen
