So do I Mark, glad you liked it. :)

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I liked the story you shared. This part......

Mark I LOVE this one!!!!!! Will it be possible for me to copy and paste in on the first page of this forum? If so this is going to give it such a classy look. You did good. Thanks

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I also tried another one by suggestions and corrections made.

Let me know what you think….

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Happy Friday friends and I wish for each of you a great weekend. You know it never ceases to amaze me when I get something in my inbox from a good friend that just seems to be what the doctor ordered, like this one. I hope it touches each of you, as it did me. :)

This is awesome...............Enjoy
I hope you will enjoy it half as much as I have!!
Don't start reading this one until you've got a minute, don't just
'scan' over it.. It deserves some time for reflection.

GOD LIVES UNDER MY 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 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 the Lord, 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 beliefs, 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!

FRIENDS ARE ANGELS WHO LIFT US TO OUR FEET WHEN OUR WINGS
HAVE TROUBLE REMEMBERING HOW TO FLY

There ARE special people in this world. There's a man in my neighborhood named Dave, and he's about 60 years old now, he's been mowing lawns on this side of town all his life, I've lived around here for well over 20 years, and Dave is a recognizable part of this area. When he was younger, his mother made lawnmowing appointments for him, she found the jobs for him, and Dave would walk to those houses with his lawnmower and tools, and he had a lifetime of getting teased by kids too often, as unfortunately happens to lots of special people, but as he got older, the teasing stopped eventually, or maybe a lot of the kids grew up and the neighborhood just knew he belongs here, walking everywhere with his mower, some of his lawnmowing jobs were more than a mile from his mom's house.

What's most special about Dave? He remembers conversations from a long time ago if he hasn't seen someone for 6 months or a year, and is able to pick up the conversation right where it left off...and he's easy to talk to, and always has a smile and a wave for everyone, even if he doesn't know everyone's name everywhere, most people know him, and he recognizes everyone by sight, and always says "Hi, how ya doin?!" He has a firm grip, and doesn't let go for many minutes, it's not just a handshake, it's a hold, it's a hold that I've only felt from my grandma, as she got elderly, she'd hold our hand tightly just like Dave does, he's done that since he was a younger man, it's a handhold of someone who knows that they may not see the person again for a long time, or may not have a handshake from people very often, or may not know when their life will be over, or if people will go away.

What's special about Dave? His mom didn't put him in a special home for special people as she was advised to, she kept him at home because she wanted him to be raised with the Bible every day. Dave also walks more than a mile to church every Sunday, wearing a suit and tie.