Free People: Laugh More than Others

Think of the last time you laughed really hard.

Not just a polite chuckle or that obligatory smile you wear as you comment "LOL" under a cute social media post.

I mean that snorting, gasping, sounds-like-you-have-emphysema, tears-streaming-down-your-face kind of guffaw.  The kind of laugh that leaves you tingly and euphoric when you finally calm down enough to catch your breath.  The kind of laugh that you can't stifle in church when someone mispronounces "prostrate," even though your mom is cutting devil's eyes at you.

The kind of laugh that makes you say, "Whew! I needed that."

We do!  We need laughter as much and as often as we can get it.  It burns calories, relieves stress, helps us fight illnesses, can decrease our sense of pain, and some even say it makes you live longer.

Free people laugh more because they can find and choose joy in more places.

I remember in one of the Chuck Swindoll books I've read, he described how some Christians roam the earth sullen and martyred because they've come to equate suffering with holiness.  He pooh-poohed the notion and identified the ridiculousness of such a belief.

Christians (the ones who should be the most free), though we may struggle and suffer, should be choosing joy no matter what we're facing.  We have the freedom to do this because of our ultimate Hope.

I've watched many friends who have miscarried babies push joyfully through morning sickness of viable pregnancies.  They can look past stretch marks and weight gain and discomfort because they can find the joy through it.  There's an end-game ahead, and they don't lose sight of it.

I've watched certain friends going through chemo, and I've seen how they can smile more than others.  They appreciate today, which helps them think less about tomorrow and the worry it might hold.  And when their days grow short, if they're heaven-bound, they wear their joy with even more purpose because there's an end-game ahead, and they don't lose sight of it.

Every pain has an end.  Every struggle has a conclusion.  Every sadness has a termination.  Every comma has a period.

And when you can remember that, the world doesn't seem quite so scary anymore.

Have you ever noticed that people who have more going for them are sometimes the ones who laugh and find joy the least?

That's because joy isn't of this world. 

I've worked in the NICU for nearly nine years now, and I find it fascinating to observe and compare behaviors in parents of very ill, extremely premature babies versus those getting a drive-by experience of our unit with their temporarily and mildly ill older babies.  Surprisingly, I find that the mother of the latter is the one who tends to grieve harder in the first few days after admission.

For the mother of the healthier child, everything was going well until something went wrong.  The pregnancy was perfect, but then an unforeseen low blood sugar requiring a little IV fluids or some fast breathing lands their new bundle four floors below, separated from their aching mothers.

Tomorrow will be different.  Tomorrow the baby could be better, but today, the world is undone, and it's not how it was supposed to be.  She can't see toward tomorrow because today is too bleak.

For the mother of the sicker child, everything was going wrong until something finally went right.  They made it to 24 weeks before their blood pressure sky-rocketed or the baby was just big enough to intubate.

Tomorrow could be different.  Tomorrow, the baby could be worse, but today, the world has this glimmer of hope, and it's not how she thought it would be.  She may not be able to touch or hold her baby for weeks, but she's doesn't care.  She can't think of tomorrow because today is too good.

Neither mother is wrong.  I felt all of those same emotions as the harder-grieving mother when I faced pregnancy complications with Benning.

But the joy is so much more evident in one, and it's odd!  In theory, this mother should be more upset, unable to face the days, and there will be times that she will feel this way.  She has more to be afraid of and more to overcome.

But she doesn't look for what should be--she looks for what is.

Joy is lost in expectations.  If you look for joy in perfection, you will always lose it.

Joy is found in the freedom to ignore the expectations and appreciate the beautiful realities hidden somewhere inside.

Joy can abound in any situation, if for no other reason than to know that the situation will end.

Laugh with joy at the things you can--at the mispronounced words in church and the times you trip and fall down.  Laugh at the cutesy ways your children say things and the cat videos on Facebook.  Laugh at others' jokes.  Laugh at yourself.

For while things can get serious, you don't always have to be.

There's an end-game ahead, and I hope you never lose sight of it.

Free People: Aren’t Controlled by the Past

Imagine that someone has taken a lock and key and trapped you inside the worst version of yourself from the past.  Close your eyes and consider what that looks like to you.

Is it from your sixth grade year when you had braces and greasy hair?  Maybe it looks like the gangly, wiry kid that got teased in high school.  Or the chubbier-cheeked kid who got picked last for basketball. 

Maybe it's the person who made a giant mistake.  A giant mistake that's turned into a giant secret.  A giant secret that's turned into a giant burden.

Maybe it's the version who was left wounded or warped by people who didn't care anything about you.

Can you envision that your worst self is your puppeteer?  Or...do you even have to imagine it?

Does who you were or what's been done to you manipulate the way you live today?  If so, you aren't free.

Paul could have let the past control him.  He had ventured out on a murdering spree, targeting anyone who followed Christ.  God set him straight with a proverbial brick wall of literal blindness, and while Paul could have worshiped and believed quietly in the closet of his home, Paul commanded the attention of the masses.  Paul wasn't fettered to shame--he turned his life around.  And if God could forgive him, so could he forgive himself.  If God could offer him grace, he wasn't too proud to accept it.

Mistakes don't have to be our dictators.  Regret doesn't have to be our chains.

Despite a past that could have steered his course in a vastly different direction, Paul lived free.  And the world was better for it.

Joseph could have let the past control him.  He was beaten to a pulp by his jealous older brothers and left for dead.  He lived a thick chunk of his young life behind bars for no reason at all.  God freed him and raised him to the height of success, and when those thugs he had for siblings showed up in need, Joseph could have answered in spite and retaliation.  But he didn't.  Joseph wasn't restrained and embalmed in bitterness.  He embraced his brothers, and he helped them live.

When you can cut the cord between the pain of past abuse and your at-present heart, the way you respond becomes entirely up to you--be it in wise separation or open-armed grace.

Despite a past that could have stonewalled his heart, Joseph lived free.  And he was better for it.

I've seen great men and women of faith up close and personal choosing to defy their ugly pasts.  Friends who have used bad decisions to reform their futures.  A grandmother who gave a giant hand-slap to her abuse-riddled past with a commitment to being kind to the world around her.  A friend who has sliced through the hurt of abandonment, choosing to live a life that doesn't dignify such disrespect with the bother of her time, energy, or wasted resentment.

People who live free.  Who have shown me how to live free as well.

Who remind me that the past can be a mere chapter in a history book and doesn't have to be a daily entry in a present-day diary.

Who have shown me that the past can remain a handy how-to for distant hiccups and doesn't have to be the thermostat of the days to come.

May it be said of you that you controlled how the past assimilated into your life and not the other way around.

May it be said of you that you rose above, that you cut the cord, that you defied the odds.

May it be said of you that you lived free...and that the world was better for it.

Free People: Are Dangerous People

There's an edge and a danger to things we can't control.

I find this most clearly when I think about the weather.  We can't pull the puppet strings of the clouds and tell them when to gather and when to scatter.  We can't push away the raindrops and tell them to come again some other day.  We can't wave away the lightning or woo the sun to appear from hiding.

Years ago, I watched a storm surge on the beach in Panama City.  I was huddled up with my sister and brother-in-law, and we watched the gray, misty fog encroach upon the white sandy getaway of our condo's beach.  The waves crashed randomly but beautifully, like a diminished chord on the piano.  Through the splattering rain on our balcony window, I saw a section of the water start to turn.  It was thin, and it spun faster and faster as it moved horizontally and parallel to the shore until it had formed into a whirling waterspout.  I scrambled to try and capture it on video, because it was one of the most wildly wonderful and beautifully terrifying things I'd ever witnessed.  It continued perfectly shaped a little down the beach, until the elements that had so artfully pieced it together fell quickly apart, and it disassembled into the rainy abyss.

It was lovely because it was wild; it was dangerous because it was free.

Like the turn of a tornado or the howl of a hurricane, free people are dangerous because they can't be contained.

I love the story of Paul and Silas being imprisoned.  During their ministry, they were unceremoniously thrown into jail, and though their bodies were chained, their hearts and their faith could not be caged.  They sang into the night songs of worship to the Lord, and as they did, their shackles fell to the ground, and their cell was opened.  The guard was terrified--how could they have possibly escaped?

What the guard didn't realize is that you can't contain a free man.

I used to love Pastor Mike Glenn's description of Jesus' frustrating nature--people get upset with Jesus "because he doesn't stay where you put him."  If you put him in the grave, he'll end up in the garden.  If you put him in the corner, he'll march right into the center of your life.  If you put him on the backburner, he'll charge into the front.  That Jesus, he's a dangerous one because he can't be contained.

He's free.

And like the wild nature of a tornado, be it in the plains of Oklahoma or the green pastures of Tennessee,

Free people are free no matter where they are.  No matter where someone puts them.

Though the world can shackle your body, only you can shackle your soul.

So what about you?  Are you enslaved or emboldened?  Are you belted to a life of chains?

Or are you free to roam about the cabin?

I hope we can put a little danger to your name while we explore all the ways to live free.  Come along!  You're in for a wild ride.