Tag Archive | laughter



There’s so many things to stress over
Days upon days when life isn’t lived among clover,
There’s pain and despair and awful tragedies
A lacking of true love, compassion and loyalty,
There’s nights when the news is depressing and grim
It becomes all that much more difficult to hold onto Him,
Such was the state I found the other day
Turning to God I didn’t know what to say
I grew very still and quieted my mind
Waiting for God so His love could be shined,
In the moment of simple tranquility
One word rang clear in simplicity–


Not to laugh at the hurting and the weak
But at the unexpected joys that come for the meek,
Not to laugh at those outcast and alone
But laugh through the gloom until it is gone,
Not to laugh at those who suffer depression and disease
Laugh with those who make their troubles seem light as a breeze,
Not to laugh at the size of anyone’s jeans
Laugh with the people who get the punch line in the scene,
No laughing at others in houses of gold
Laugh instead at the creaks and groans now you’ve grown old,
Never laugh at your elders because
They can tell if you’re there for just the applause–

But laugh.

A laugh lifts your spirits, eases some pain
It surely rearranges connections in your brain.
A laugh at something silly or weird
Can lead to your dreaming up something dear,
A laugh at tormentors takes their control away
Leaving you unhurt to fight on another day,
A laugh eases tension and chases fear from the place,
Opens doors and windows so you can laugh through the race,
When things go awry as things tend to do,
A laugh instead of tears can be just what to do.
When you can laugh at yourself it proves you are brave
To be totally yourself in every adventure you crave.

So the word for today is laugh my friends laugh!

…and God laughed!

“Jesus wept.” (John 11:35) The shortest verse in the Bible. Jesus wept when His friend Lazarus died and the Lord got to the tomb.

But of God laughing?

Other than three references to God laughing in Psalms:

1. Psalm 59:8 when David pens that God laughs at Saul’s men outside his house waiting for opportunity to kill him.

2. Psalm 37:13 where David again pens that God laughs at the plans of the wicked because He knows their day is coming.

3. Psalm 2:4 where again it reads that God laughs at the wicked.


That’s it, all I can find in scripture in reference to God laughing. In neither case do I think it refers to a laughter because God is truly amused, that He finds the events humorously funny, but that scoffing laughter one does at the reality of someone’s foolishness.

Yet, I am equally sure God laughs. With me alone as His daughter He must laugh at least once a day. God certainty isn’t against humor, as some believe. Proverbs 17:22 tells us that a cheerful heart is good medicine. ALL our emotions and feelings are part of our human design and like anger, we can use them to help us do things to change the world for the better or worse. One way we don’t sin, one way we do.

It would be wonderful, I think, if somewhere in the Scripture it read, “…and God laughed!”

  • Maybe at the antics of the children Jesus rebuked the disciples for keeping from Him in Matthew 19:13-15.
  • Maybe at something one of the disciples did sitting around a fire in the late night hours.
  • Perhaps at some statement Sarah might have made about changing diapers and midnight feedings at her age.
  • Or even at Abraham trying to keep up with a four-year-old Isaac in his older age when off with his son somewhere.

I am sure, as God moves in our lives, that He experiences what we do, He sees things from our perspective and He works all things together for our good. (Romans 8:28) So He must laugh at some of the things we do as we laugh at our own children and the things they say and do in innocence.

Like I’m sure right now God is chuckling at me as I’m writing this huddled beneath the covers with my back and right arm and shoulder freezing when I could turn the ceiling fan off and write in comfort. God is surely laughing at me and shaking His head at my illogical actions!

What do you do in your life that God must laugh at? Dance with your daughter to the Sesame Street theme song? Plot with your son to surprise his mother? Your singing in the shower? Talk to yourself out loud and answer your own questions?

God must laugh. I think we must too. Although it certainly has an appropriate time to be done it must still be a freeing and honest part of our emotional, physical and spiritual lives. After all, laughter is good for the soul.

Go laugh today!


Let Me Laugh!

It is not unusual for Social Security Disability to send an applicant to doctors they pay to do various evaluations. So I’m prepared for that possibility and I’m not surprised when I receive notice of two appointments, patient forms to fill out with my medical and psychological history or that the appointments are nearly two hours away from our home. The notices inform me that the first appointment is on a Saturday and the second on the following Friday. The appointments are located in offices in a city that is nearly a two hour drive from my home and with which I am unfamiliar. There are form letters I have to return letting Social Security know I plan to keep the appointment. I return them.

Two days after I get the letters my phone rings.

Social Security Benefit Specialist (SSBS): We received your reply that you plan to keep the appointments we’ve scheduled for you. Will you be keeping those appointments?

Me: Yes, I will be there.

SSBS: It’s very important you keep the appointments. Will you?

Me: Yes, I don’t foresee any problem, I’ve made arrangements to be there.

SSBS: Call if you are unable to keep these appointments.

Me: Yes, I will.

We hang up and I think, why bother to have me send the acceptance letters in if you’re going to call? Five days before the appointment my phone rings and I answer.

SSBS: This is a reminder call that we’ve received your written acceptance of the appointments we’ve scheduled for you and your verbal consent as well. Will you be keeping the first appointment?

Me: Yes I will.

SSBS: We also sent you background paperwork for the doctors you need to fill out before keeping the appointments. Will you complete them?

Me: I’ve done it already.

SSBS: Have you filled them out?

Me: Yes I have.

SSBS: It’s very important you cooperate and keep the appointment and take in the completed paperwork. Will you consent to do that?

Me: Yes.

SSBS: Thank you.

This time when we hang up I look at my daughter and say, “You know I’m beginning to worry about these appointments.”

“…a time to weep and a time to laugh…”

Ecclesiastes 3:4a NIV

The day before the appointments we repeat the conversation a third time. I look longingly at a large binder clip on the shelf by my bed thinking it may be the only way I keep myself from telling this SSBS she’s the one a few French fries short of a Happy Meal. I remind myself, she’s just doing her job, following some written script from the “How to Talk to People Who are Dummies”.

The first appointment is with a psychiatrist. Her office is located in a former private residence. I’ve filled out the paperwork that asks all the invasive questions, giving all my personal history prior to my arrival. Of course, I have to fill out basically the same thing all over again once I get there.

The drive took nearly two hours and I am on a diuretic, so yes, I have to use the facilities. Oh my! The bathroom is not handicap accessible whether you’re wheelchair bound or not. (Just putting up handrails doesn’t make it accessible people!) First my wheelchair and I can’t fit in the bathroom at the same time and the door shut. Second, once we get the wheelchair and me somewhat in I can’t reach the handrails to get myself up, so my husband has to stand outside in the hallway, blocking anyone from coming down our way to help me out of the wheelchair and to get to where I can do what must be done. It is then I discover the toilet is one meant for children!

I must say everything was within reach though. I was able to take care of business and wash my hands with my amputation propped in the wheelchair because there wasn’t anywhere else to put it. Again my husband has to come to my aid in order for me to get back into the wheelchair. Thank God for my husband.

Thankfully the psychiatrist is amazingly kind and although I’ve now repeated my life story, personal and medical three times in two days including the filling out of the initial paperwork, she doesn’t make me feel that my tears are unwarranted as we explore it all again. We didn’t discuss the bathroom.

“A cheerful heart is good medicine, but a crushed spirit dries up the bones.”

Proverbs 17:22 NIV

The second appointment is located in the same city a few blocks over from the psychiatrist office on the following Friday. Again, Social Security and the Advocate Group are kind enough to call me two additional times to remind me of the appointment and to ask if I plan to attend. The morning of the appointment, although I’ve called to toll free number to tell them I am coming as well as replied in the affirmative to the Social Security Administration, the doctor’s “nurse” calls to ask me if I’m coming. Turns out they have no way of accessing the messages on the 800 number we’re given to call, and the SSA doesn’t tell them our reply. Who knew?

This is the appointment for the physical. Although I am directed to go to a chiropractor office and don’t know it won’t be the chiropractor who does the exam. There is actually signage set out directing us into the office and I wonder if people notice the unusual high percentage of handicap people slowly making our way toward the nearly hidden office. I feel like a cow being herded into the corral and I fear it isn’t going to be pleasant.

We are greeted by “the nurse” who has never met a stranger, which is Southern for she starts talking and can’t quit, bless her heart. The cordless phone is semi-attached to her hand while the other one waves in the air to emphasize what she is telling us. Again, I turn in the paperwork they’ve sent me and again, fill it out all over again as I did the week before.

When it’s my turn to have my eyesight checked we discover just how non-wheelchair friendly this office is with electrical cords running everywhere, thresholds on doorways difficult to get the wheelchair over and no room to turn around. Once I’ve proven I’m not blind, except without my glasses, and that I am alive because I have both a pulse and a blood pressure reading all for which the nurse has to put the phone down to do; we spend ten minutes tracking said phone down afterwards so we go back out to wait on the doctor.

He appears and my heart sinks. I’m not sure when the last time I saw pants like he was wearing, those summer seersucker pants, pulled up above his navel in a wrinkled wide blue and white pin stripe. No tie but he does have a normal shirt on under his flapping lab coat. He reminds me of Barney Fife off of Andy Griffith crossed with a Mad Scientist. Soaking wet he might weigh a 100 pounds if you left his shoes on. To complete his look he has glasses that give him the appearance of a having bat wings across his eyes. His hair is only slightly more rumpled than his pants. I really could have gotten around his appearance if his batty demeanor didn’t carry on through the exam.

“So I see you had your left leg amputated in June of 2011. So you just have the one leg then?”

He lifts up my dress to see and I wonder if he thinks I have a spare leg hidden somewhere on me. Maybe I have one tucked away in my purse?

Me: “Yes, just the one.”

Doctor: “Okay, well…I can’t do that one…”

He proceeds to flip and fight with the stapled forms pages trying to figure out how to do the physical exam since I am wheelchair bound. It appears I’ve thrown him for a loop. After several minutes of different “tests” he decides he needs to feel around on my right leg. He pushes in with his thumb.

Me: That hurts.

Doctor: Really? (Pushing harder.) This hurts?

Me: (Tears in my eyes now.) Yes, really. It hurts.

Doctor: Are you sure? (Pushes harder with his thumb, nail and all.)

Me: (Crying now.) Yes, yes I’m sure.

The doctor doesn’t know how blessed he is that my husband, who is the one sitting on the actual exam table, didn’t take the good doctor’s legs off. Under my breath I keep reminding him the doctor is just doing his job. I’m also hoping that all the painful part of this physical exam is done with.

I wasn’t that blessed. But mercifully it was brief.

I didn’t ask to use the bathroom.

I didn’t warn those coming in as we were leaving I figured

Funny Mama Tales

Mother’s Day is approaching and as I think of my own mother, who has been with Jesus for almost 13 years, I enjoy remembering the funny things she did and said. Today, I share a few of them with you. Motherhood needs a good dose of humor I find.

About Growing Older:

Mama always said, “When I get old I want you kids to put me in a nursing home, none of this taking care of me at home business! I’ve got plans for those old folks. Going around and trading out their dentures, wheelchair races, walker marathons…yes, straight to the nursing home for me please!” And she said it with such sincerity and with a twinkle in her eye that we knew she meant it, although I’m not sure either of us would have ever been able to follow her wishes.

Making Bell Pepper Jelly:

Someone at work gave Mama a lot of green bell peppers. Daddy didn’t like any raw vegetables at all, so she decided to make pepper jelly. Halfway through the next to last batch she realized she was going to run out of sugar. So she sent me off to the grocery store with instructions to get five pounds of sugar. My sister was sent with me. An elderly gentlemen pulled out of a parking lot and smashed into us. I called my father who came, helped me handle the police and sent me straight home, no stopping for Mama’s sugar.

Of all the things involved in that series of events Mama was mad over my not getting the sugar! Clearly she was tired, having worked all night and now most of the morning making the pepper jelly, but still we all laughed at how upset she was (later we laughed, not while it was happening) over the sugar! As if I’d had a choice of when the man would cause the accident she said to me, “Couldn’t you have waited to have that man hit you until after you bought the sugar?”

The other funny thing about that whole incident was that not one person, including Mama, would eat pepper jelly. She ended up giving away 12 pints to someone at her job that did.

On Having Animals in the House

We never had many pets growing up. We certainly never had an indoor pet. Mama always told us the good Lord meant for animals to be outside and she wasn’t messing with His plan.

The closest we came was with a beagle mix dog we named Bandit. He was just a puppy, taken from his mother straight to us, and it was still cold outside. Bandit was allowed to remain in a box that was too big for him to get out of during the nighttime. But Bandit, though good at whining for his mother, was unable to bark. Mama decided his mother must not have taught him how to bark so she would. She relished in teaching Bandit how to bark! She was a grown woman barking at Bandit and as silly as it sounds, either Bandit’s barking instinct kicked in or Mama was successful. (But the first time he managed to tip over his box he was banished outside.) Later though when Bandit would “bark too much” Mama would grumble, “I wish I’d never taught that dog to bark!”

Once all of their children moved out of the house my parents got a dog. Shay was a Golden Retriever and Chow mix so she was no little Beagle. Imagine our surprise when our first visits home we were met with the sight of Mama’s dog stretched out in the living room like she owned the place. Shay was an indoor dog until the day she died.

Going the Wrong Way

After dropping me off for classes at the local junior college Mama had to go just down the road to the bank. She had to cross a four lane divided highway. A very busy four lane divided highway. Mama got side tracked thinking about all her errands and she turned right into oncoming traffic. While people honked their car horns and shouted at her she simply proceeded to drive to the next cross over and get back on the right side of the highway. She didn’t normally make such mistakes while driving, and was certainly blessed at that time of the morning especially to not have or cause an accident, but once she got over being mortified by what she’d done she’d found humor in the situation.

Food Funnies

As a child she and her cousin both liked to take either soda crackers or bread and wet the cracker or bread, form it into a doughy ball and eat it. Why they found this to be such a wonderful appetizing food they didn’t even know but they did and Mama laughed every time she retold that story.

As a newlywed my mother decided to make a pot of pinto beans for supper. Now Mama was a straight “A” student for the most part in all of her studies but especially in Home Economics. But, her own mother taught her nothing about cooking and the Home Economics teacher didn’t teach them about cooking dry beans. So anticipating the delight of her new husband Mama put on her beans to cook. They cooked, and they cooked and she could see they weren’t getting done. Frantic and embarrassed, realizing they would not be done for supper, Mama took the pot of beans outside and buried them. She prepared something else for supper, imagining her secret was safe. It was, until a few weeks later when several beans plants grew up at the edge of the garden where Mama had buried her pot of half-cooked pintos! (She did learn to cook dry beans of any variety correctly and it was a stable in our family diet but the pinto beans story was always good for a laugh.)

I’m sure you, my dear Readers, have some funny stories of your own mothers. If you’d care to share, I’d love to laugh along with you!