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Laughter, God’s Free Therapy

I unpacked my suitcase this morning. There were grains of sand from the seashore still clinging to the hem of my white pants.

And there was a shell I’d found on the beach. A keepsake reminding me to LAUGH.

Laugh at myself.
Laugh in the middle of life’s circumstances.
Laugh until olympic-sized tears skate down my cheekbones.
Laugh because it’s good therapy.

Christians are called to be sober minded, but God’s Word also tells us repeatedly to “REJOICE.”

Last week, I rejoiced. I was on vacation, a summer oasis, from responsibilities and routine.

Hiking to a remote beach, the child within me came out to play. There was no one around to “laugh at me.”

So I ventured on sandy soil to the water’s edge, and watched the waves rise like a Behemoth out of the salty ocean. Each time the waves crashed against the beach, I squealed with laughter and ran away while the incoming tide pursued me. When I was safe beyond its reach, I’d turn around and chase the tide back into the ocean.

Child’s play, a game of Tag, made me laugh.

Laughter made me forget life’s troubles.

Author Victor Hugo said, “Laughter is the sun that drives winter from the human face.”

But when I look at some Christians, winter seems to be the uniform of the day.

I know “Jesus wept.” (John 11:35)

I know Jesus was “a man of sorrow, acquainted with grief.” (Isaiah 53:3)

But Jesus, God incarnate, was human. He experienced human emotions.

So in the midst of His day…serving, healing, teaching, praying, traveling….were there joyful moments that caused Jesus to laugh?

After Jesus’ resurrection, Peter was in a fishing boat when he recognized his Savior standing on the shore. Overcome with emotion, Peter threw himself overboard and swam to him.

Did that image make Jesus glad, make Him smile, perhaps even chuckle?

Scripture doesn’t refer to Jesus as laughing.

But that doesn’t mean laughter is evil.

“Then our mouth was filled with laughter and our tongue with shouts of joy; then they said among the nations, ‘The Lord has done great things for them.’” (Psalm 126:2)

Sarah said, “God has brought me laughter, and everyone who hears about this will laugh with me.” (Genesis 21:6)

“He who sits in the heavens laughs; the Lord scoffs at them.” (Psalm 2:4)

“There’s a time to weep, and a time to laugh…” (Ecclesiastes 3:4)

And there are times I choose to laugh ….even in the midst of weeping.

Freedom To Be Myself

An elderly man walked past me. He wore a red, white, and blue button-up shirt, resembling the American flag.

“Nice shirt!” I said. “You’re ready to celebrate the Fourth of July!”

That’s not the first time I’ve complimented a senior citizen on his appearance. Living near a retirement community, I’ve seen the freedom that comes with age.

Men grow a white ponytail. Women stop dying their roots. Fingernail polish gets redder. Their clothes have more color, more bling.

I envy them.

These retirees aren’t eccentric. They’re finally old enough (if I may stereotype) to not worry about other people’s opinions. They own the freedom to be themselves.

We talk about individualism in America, but magazines and television shows spend millions of dollars, telling me what to wear and how to decorate my home.

Does the Marketing Industry Define Me?

Peer pressure first surfaced when I was nine years old. If I wanted to be “cool” like my female classmates, I had to own white Go-Go Boots.

Even now, the fashion industry dictates the length of my skirt. Every year styles change so I’m always at their mercy. Do I tuck in my shirt? Is my blazer supposed to be shorter or longer than my blouse? Am I wearing Stiletto or wedge high heels?

Our first “cool” home had yellow shag carpet and olive green kitchen appliances. Six years later, my kitchen had country blue wallpaper with geese. We moved often, so each time I decorated according to the trend.

However, I’ve lived in this house thirteen years. At some point, without my knowledge, someone decided the valances on my window are passé.

Excuse me, I like valances.

And I want the freedom to be me.

So here’s my secret for those, regardless of age, who fret about fashion and home décor.

When my nose is in the Bible, my eyes on Christ, I’m less self-conscious or insecure.

My focus shifts from the valances to the people in my life.

I’d rather phone a friend and listen to her heart than hear someone tell me I NEED the latest gadget.

“Set your mind on the things above, not on the things that are on the earth.” (Col 3:2)

So this Fourth of July, or Thanksgiving for that matter, I might wear a red, white, and blue button-up shirt, resembling the American flag.

I just have one question.

Should I tuck in my shirt?

The C Word

Heard the C word again; the one that fills the human heart with dread.

The C word that forces me to “lean not on my own understanding”

But rest in a sovereign God.

He tells me surgery is scheduled, but the doctor’s optimistic prognosis doesn’t slay the inner demons swimming in the back of the mind:

What if ?

Dwelling on the problem instead of the Lord,

Feeds FEAR and makes it grow into a gIANT that only faith can slay.

“For the Lord your God will hold your right hand saying to you, ‘Fear not. I will help you.’” (Isaiah 41:13)

Fear not, even if it’s cancer.
Fear not, I will hold your right hand.
Fear not, I will help you.

I cling to that promise like a blanket and fall asleep, one ear listening for the phone to ring.

And it does ring, waking me up just as dawn appears on my horizon and bird song fills the air.

A weary monotone voice greets me from a thousand miles away where skies are blue, but not for him.

I feel the weight of the world on his shoulders as he waits for his wife’s operation to be over, and the lab results to show good news.

Words stick in my throat as I search for the right thing to say.

“May I pray with you?”

Instead of holding warm-blooded hands, I grip the cold metal of my cell phone and …

Plead to the heavens on his behalf.
Pray to the Lord who is an ever present help in times of trouble.
Claim God’s promises that are true.

“When you go through deep waters, I will be with you. When you go through rivers of difficulty, you will not drown. When you walk through the fire of oppression, you will not be burned up; the flames will not consume you. (Isaiah 43:2)

If only I could crawl through the phone, and sit beside him. Show that I care beyond words. But I can’t.

So I hang up and do what I can.

Bow my head and pray some more.
Sound the trumpet so my fellow saints will pray too.
Rely on the Holy Spirit who dwells within my friend to do what I can’t.

Be his strength in weakness;

give him grace that is enough,

guard his mind with the peace that surpasses human understanding.

Even in this ……

Not Even a Cup of Tea?

I scroll through the tiny font on my cell phone screen.

A text message from someone informs me:

Wife’s biopsy came back positive. Surgery scheduled.

Please pray.

Another week, different text message from someone else.

Daughter grieving. Marriage in jeopardy.

Please pray.

People’s problems edited and shrink-wrapped into a few words.

Their unspoken fears and heartache fill the white space….travel through cell phone towers, reach my unsuspecting eyes,

Entreating me to pray, trusting me to love them enough to remember them in prayer.

I fumble for encouraging words, but the best thing I can send them when I hit reply is a promise to pray.

And then stay true to my word.

Praying scripture for them, takes the burden off of me to know how to pray.

Praying scripture gives me an eternal perspective, keeps me aligned to God’s ultimate will for our lives.

Praying scripture WITH them over the phone or in person keeps our eyes on Jesus when the enemy whispers, “You’re all alone.

“Curse God and die!”

In the book, His Thoughts Said…His Father Said….

Missionary Amy Carmichael shares human thoughts that invite discouragement, doubt, and fear, but then she provides a godly response that dispels these false notions.

In this particular excerpt, the ill person or caregiver is encouraged to look for the daily blessing, however small, and see it as a gift from God even in this…..I hope the words in Carmichael’ls book, blesses others.

Not Even a Cup of Tea

The son said, “My heart is disquieted within me. My soul cleaveth to the dust. Out of the depths, I have cried to Thee, O God.”

His Father said, “In My hands are the deep places of the earth. Is there no blue sky? Have the roses forgotten how to bloom? Have birds ceased to sing among the branches? Hast thou not the sweetness of the love of a single little child? Hast thou no pleasant food–not even a cup of tea? Have tears been thy meal day and night?

Gather up thy comforts, the greatest, the smallest, and thou will be surprised that thou has so many to gather.”

Remember, and Carry On

A small crowd gathered on the cemetery’s green lawn,

Surrounded by red, white, and blue U.S. flags that waved valiantly from each Military Veteran’s grave.

We gathered to pay respect.

Mourn those who gave the ultimate sacrifice, casualties of war I’d never met.

A twenty-one gun salute blasted the silence, deafened our ears,

And was followed by the somber notes of a Bugler playing Taps.

Misty-eyed, we watched as the seven-year-old son of a deceased soldier helped his mother place a wreath on the War Memorial, then posed in front of the cold, black granite where his father’s name was engraved…

Along side the names of other people who had lived in our town, died in battle.

The crowd sighed while white doves were released and flew like angels heavenward into a grey sky

Where rain clouds shed cool tears on the bereaved shoulders of Gold Star families. www.goldstarfamilyregistry.com‎‎

A guest speaker shared words from President Lincoln’s Gettysburg Address:

“It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us — that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion — that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain.”

Ceremony over, I walked shy-footed between the graves of Military Veterans.

Row after row…

Headstones lined up like platoons awaiting inspection

Rank, name, military branch, and years on Earth now etched on flat, stone tablets instead of metal dog tags.

Life summarized in epitaphs, religious faith professed in symbols.

I touched my red Poppy.

In remembrance of those who died for our nation in the name of freedom.

“Greater love has no one than this: to lay down one’s life for one’s friends.” (John 15:13)

I touched my Cross necklace.

In remembrance of Christ who died to set men free from the power and penalty of sin.

“For you were called to freedom, brothers. Only do not use your freedom as an opportunity for the flesh, but through love serve one another. For the whole law is fulfilled in one word: “You shall love your neighbor as yourself.” (Galatians 5:13-14)

In remembrance…I was touched.

Persuaded to love and serve others for the greater good.

Encouraged by the still voices of those who’ve gone before me whispering in the morning breeze,

“Carry on.”

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