There is a time for everything, and a season for every
activity under heaven….a time to weep and a time to laugh.
Ecc. 3:4
It's good to laugh. Great even. It's been said many times, "Laughter is
good for the soul."
I wonder sometimes if God laughs. The Bible is certainly not without frequent
use of irony, whimsy, word-play and puns.
When my mother talks about my childhood
and the terror that I was for my parents, wandering away from home a number of
times and causing my mother panic attacks, I consider my youngest, Lily, who
has herself wondered away twice in her four short years of life, and then I
think, yes. Yes, indeed. God most surely does have a great sense of
humor.
In the last week week of school, my
eight year old son was involved in a poetry reading. Thirty friends and family were all packed
into a classroom to hear their budding readers and actors share what they'd
been learning.
After each student recited a poem, they
surprised their teary-eyed, prouder-than-ever mom with a poem that was written
specifically for them:
"mother: kind, loving,
beautiful, good cook, a great mom. My mother."
This was very typical of the poems that
were read to the adoring mothers.
When it was jrods turn, cameras were out,
and he was ready. To be honest, I
started welling up with pride. What
amazing lyrics had he come up with to declare to this room full of mothers just how awesome of a mom he thinks I am? I couldn't wait.
"Mother," he began.
"Black hair. Lots of white teeth. Very sweaty.
My mother."
Yep.
That's my boy.
And I'm his sweaty mom. What else can a mother do but laugh. And
laugh I did. Along with all the other
kind, loving, beautiful, good cooking, (non -sweating), mothers in the room.
These are times when laughter comes more
easily. But what about when trials which
come knocking at the door? Is it
appropriate to laugh in their face?
I remember my dad coming home from work
one day while he was in the midst of treatment for liver cancer. I was home from college and was sitting at
the kitchen table working on a paper when he came in elated.
I asked him what he was so happy
about. He told me his story.
He had been pulled over by a cop for
speeding. My dad racked his brain for every
excuse he could think of to get out of it, and then, as the cop approached the
car, it came to him:
"I pulled the cancer card! It was brilliant! Just told the cop that I had 'chemo brain' and
he let me go without another word."
I sat there in the kitchen laughing with
my dad. I laughed hard. Especially at the absurdity of my pastor- dad
who was so proud of himself for getting out of a ticket due to "chemo
brain." I mean seriously.
And yet, for just a few minutes, we had
a moment of pure joy between the two of us in the midst of the drag days that
were common as he fought this disease.
A couple of weeks ago, I met a couple at
work who had this same view on life.
A
beautiful woman was strolled back in a wheel chair, pushed by her husband. He laughed as he worked hard to get her up
and onto the dental chair, which was clearly not easy for either of them. And she laughed at the fact that her legs
were unable to help him at all.
Once he got his wife into the chair, he warned
me to not tilt the chair the wrong way once he left the room. "Then she'd be your problem to get back
up!" They both laughed. They were light hearted and open about her
condition.
Before he walked out, he looked at her
and said, "I love you." And
there was absolutely no doubt about that.
After twenty plus years of dealing with
MS, and slowly experiencing the deterioration of her body, she said to me,
"You have to laugh at this crazy disease." She and her husband laugh together in the
face of this tragedy. They laugh at the
absurdity of facing challenges as a couple, as a mother, as a human being that
so many others are free from.
She didn't choose to tell me about all
the difficulties, which were clearly plentiful.
She instead told me that in the last four years as the disease began to
affect her legs, she has been so thankful for her husband and her son. "Most men would leave a person like
me." Sadly, she is probably right.
Several minutes later, I watched her
husband help her back into her chair.
"Well, come on! Jump in." They both laughed.
And I laughed with them, even through
blurry eyes. I was so touched by his
love for her.
And I was moved by their ability to
laugh.
