“Laughter has no foreign accent.” —Paul Lowney
“Laughter is the shortest distance between two people.” —Victor Borge
The funny thing about our community is when we open up a theme for writing submissions here at Velvet Ashes and it’s a tragic theme like “complicated” or “grief”, you are the wordiest group there ever was. We get tons of submissions full of wisdom and stories. But we ask you to write on laughter and you all clam up.
Why do we have a hard time writing about laughter?
I have theories.
- This life is hard and moments of laughter are rare. (This makes ME sad.)
- The funny people aren’t the writer people. (Um, this could be it.)
- The generally accepted script for this life is the one where we make sacrifices. And joy and laughter were part of that deal.
- Our senses of humor have been so warped by our crazy lives that we aren’t sure if what we laugh at is something we can share. (I must admit, I might fall into this category.)
As I was pondering these theories, I decided to fire off a family text and see what my now-young-adult children remember that was funny about our time in Africa.
“Remember that birthday when our friends brought Carson a chicken, but it died on the way over so they gave him a dead chicken for his birthday?”
“Remember that time when Carson accidentally hit you in the head with a hoe, and we had to go around explaining to the locals that our father did not beat you?”
“Remember when Carson and all the boys (kids) at the team retreat peed on a hornet’s nest, and they ran screaming with their pants halfway down because they all got stung . . . ‘there’?”
You may notice a theme here. And yes, Carson is still making us laugh.
But I wonder, what is making you laugh?
Laughter seems like such a light topic. But is it?
When it is happening at the other table and we aren’t included, it somehow makes us feel like we’re missing out. Laughter isn’t something that can be fully enjoyed when you are alone. And sometimes, we feel alone.
It might seem like a small thing on the outside, but when you’re finally able to make a joke in your second (or third) language that makes others laugh, it feels like you won a prize (and you just might replay that moment fifty times in your mind).
Laughter takes our cultural mistakes from the realm of embarrassment to the realm of a story-to-be-told for years.
When laughter enters a room, it invites things to come in with it. Things like friendship. Like belonging. Like openness to deeper conversations. Laughter just might deserve a seat at the adult table with other layered topics like “home” and “team”.
One of the theories I had was that in this cross-cultural life, we are more comfortable with hardships than laughter. We see hardships more in the Bible. We try to model the life of Jesus, and he suffered, so we are more comfortable with suffering. But I think he also must have laughed, because not only would he have exhibited the fruits of the Spirit (one of which was joy), I know he would have loved deeply. And when you watch someone you deeply love receive good things, does joy not sometimes leak out of you in the form of laughter?
Try watching your young kids catch the first glimpse of the grandparents they have been waiting a year to see come through that airport door. Their little legs are swept off the ground in a hug that has been pent up for way too long. Now tell me you aren’t standing back just a little, laughing with the joy born of deep love.
Try keeping a straight face when the friend you have poured your life into and fought for on your knees jumps up and down out of that baptism water.
And just try to convince me that anyone, let alone thousands of people, would be drawn to follow a Savior that promised suffering but had no joy.
Nope. I know there was suffering and I think there was laughter.
When Jesus saw Mary and Martha run into the arms of a brother they thought was dead, I bet laughter mixed with the tears.
When he saw Peter grasp hold of faith enough to step out of the boat, I can see a laugh slipping around a smile.
When Jesus lifted his eyes up the sycamore tree to call Zacchaeus down from the place where he discarded his pride just to catch a glimpse of Christ, I can almost hear the laugh wrapped around the words, “Come down from there!”
There are places in Scripture where I think smiles and laughter live, even if I can’t read them. And then there are places where I can.
Sarah said, God has made laughter for me; everyone who hears will laugh with me (Genesis 21:6 NASB).
“Blessed are you who hunger now, for you shall be satisfied. Blessed are you who weep now, for you shall laugh” (Luke 6:21 NKJV).
“A cheerful heart is good medicine, but a crushed spirit dries up the bones” (Proverbs 17:22 NIV).
We know what God can do with dry bones, but imagine what he can do with your laughter-filled heart! So, while we are living lives that make it easy to write about grief and complicated things, I hope you are also living lives of laughter.
And if, by chance, you find your words, I would love nothing more than for you to share those beautiful (and maybe awkward) stories with us here.
