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.