Our son called yesterday, as he does every weekend. My heart swelled with joy and gratitude after we said our good-byes, and I thanked God for our resurrected relationship, our evidence of Easter in our lives. The world is crowded with hurting people who need the promise of resurrected dreams. But they live in darkness, hopeless and alone. My prayer for them hasn’t changed since a year ago when the post below was written. God, meet them in their pain. Give them hope. And give them laughter, too.
God, Give Them Laughter, Too
Most of the time, identifying with women in the Bible doesn’t come easy to me. I’m not queenly like Esther. I didn’t follow my mother-in-law to a foreign land like Ruth, and my chosen professions have been quite different than Rahab’s. My humility and faith fall far short of Mary the mother of Jesus, and I certainly didn’t raise a perfect child. (Sorry kids!)
I can’t dance like Salome, cut hair like Delilah, or sit contentedly at Jesus’ feet like Mary of Bethany. I can be as bossy and driven as Martha, but who wants to admit something like that?
Even with my rotten track record, one woman from the Bible made my kindred spirit short list about eight months ago when our son announced his engagement to a wonderful young woman. Sarah, wife of Abraham, is one chick I totally get. I get why she laughed when God promised she would bear a child, though she was old, old. old.
Two years ago, if God had said something like, “Your son will get married on April 11, 2010,” I would have laughed, too. See, back then my son’s career choice made no room for marriage. And after five long years of his stalwart resolution to pursue that course for life, I’d come to accept his choice. More than that, I’d found peace and a way to maintain a loving relationship with my son. I’d even learned to accept God’s will instead of demanding He fulfill my hopes and dreams for my firstborn.
After I made my peace, if God had dropped the he’ll-get-married-and-you-might-have-grandchildren-someday bombshell, I would have done one of two things. Either I would have gotten really mad and told God to quit raising my hopes about something I didn’t dare hope about, or like Sarah, I would have laughed at his joke. Sarah made the better choice, to laugh, drop the matter, and move on.
But God, in his infinite wisdom, didn’t drop the matter. He gave Sarah a son in her old age. In Genesis 21:6, Sara says this after her son’s birth. “God has made laughter for me; everyone who hears will laugh over me.”
I totally get what she’s saying because what she describes happens to my family these days. When we tell people about our son’s upcoming wedding, everyone responds with joy. Smiles, chuckles and beaming grins abound. Sarah’s words come alive.
God has made laughter for me.
Still, in the midst of joy, I am aware of the suffering and sorrow of others. My laughter could mock a mother estranged from a son, a single person wishing for a spouse, an infertile couple unable to conceive. So in the midst of joy, tears fill my eyes. I ask God to comfort those whose stories are so painful they can’t laugh for someone else’s joy.
Help them find your peace in their current circumstances, dear Father. Give them hope to hang on until you bring laughter back into their lives. Give them a sweet story to tell, one that brings joy to their hearts and to the hearts of all who hear it. Amen.
