A Good Guffaw

Posted on October 30, 2011 by Margaret

Yesterday, 6 long-term women friends got together for 24 hours at my sister’s cottage, gathering for the first time since April. Our intentions were six-fold: (1) to pull away from the pressures of everyday life; (2) to catch up on each others families; (3) to share a prayer time; (4) to hike at the beach; (5) to eat good food; (6) to laugh together. Although numbers 1-5 were meaningful, that number 6 was downright spectacular.

After sharing prayer requests, none of us felt like laughing. Among us were the heavy problems of surgery, disease, exhaustion, discouragement, and others. The load was heavy, but after we spent time turning it all over to God, it wasn’t difficult to switch gears and give ourselves over to number 6.

We hadn’t intended to get quite as hilarious as we did, but bringing out a “Catch Phrase” game was a good idea. None of us would call ourselves “gamey,” but once we got going in this contest of words, we had to force ourselves to stop at 1:00 am.

What is it about two hours of guffawing that’s so appealing? Science tells us it serves as an emotional balancing mechanism for stress. Raucous laughter causes the brain to release something called endorphins, which can increase joy and even reduce physical pain. Indeed, we were feeling no pain last night.

Studies have shown that children laugh far more than adults, 300 times a day for them, 20 for us. Of course that makes perfect sense, but it’s a shame. God urges us to roll our burdens onto him in prayer and to trust his promises as true. The more we follow those instructions, the more we’ll find ourselves laughing.

Scripture tells us that even God has a good laugh once in a while: “The One enthroned in heaven laughs.” (Psalm 2:4) His laughter, however, is usually directed at those who rebel against him, a holy laughter linked with ultimate justice. In that way, our laughing and his are quite different, but then again, he doesn’t need an endorphin boost like we do.

The Lord’s gift of human laughter is so special that he gives us the know-how to do it even before we can talk. A baby’s first laugh brings monumental joy to parents, usually eliciting a laugh in return. It’s a happy, universal language that works well in every country, with every dialect, for every age. Even though some laughs are ha-ha-ha, some ho-ho-ho and others hee-hee-hee, we “get” them all.

Today while sitting in church, I realized my stomach muscles hurt. The 6 of us laughed so hard for so long last night, my abs mistakenly thought they’d had a work-out. Well, maybe they had, which would be just one more benefit of a good guffaw.

^“There is a time for everything… a time to weep and a time to laugh.” (Ecclesiastes 3:1a,4a)

What about today?

Posted on October 23, 2011 by Margaret

Last week as Jack and I were walking on an extremely windy beach well after sunset, white water was a feast for the eyes and ears. But down the shoreline there was an alarming sight: the red and blue flashing lights of a police vehicle, right at the water’s edge. It was several miles away, but the distinctive blinking lights gave me the same chill as if I’d seen them in my car’s rear view mirror.

“Probably just crazy kids at a beach campfire,” I said to Jack. We continued walking, not thinking much about it, but over the weekend we learned more. While we were again at the beach, an official-looking dune buggy appeared from the north. The driver, bundled in a down coat, mask, goggles and earmuff-hat, stopped right next to us.

“What’s happening?” I said.

His answer shocked me. “We’re looking for a body to wash up here.”

Apparently three teenage boys and their kayaks had braved the high waves of a recent windstorm with a tragic outcome. Though all were experienced swimmers wearing wet suits, life jackets and helmets, once out in the churning waves, some as high as 14 feet, they capsized and were yanked under by vicious rip tides. One boy managed to get back to shore for help, and police arrived quickly, along with the coast guard. They were able to rescue the second boy and spotted the third clinging to his kayak, but before they could reach him, he slipped from his life jacket and disappeared under the waves.

While I was picturing that panicky scene, the beach official interrupted. “He’s dressed in black. If you see his body, call 911.”

Immediately my thoughts turned to this boy’s family. Their agony must have been compounded by knowing rescuers saw him in the water, still alive, still battling to hold on, yet couldn’t get to him in time. And surely he saw them trying.

In the ensuing search from the supposed safety of a $180,000 boat, even trained experts were overturned and landed in the hospital. “There were high waves from all directions,” one of the rescuers said, “and extreme rip currents. A rogue wave broadsided our boat and overturned it.”

Most of us wake up each morning confident we’ll crawl back into bed that night, but none of us knows for certain.

When Nate was terminally sick, we all knew death was close, which caused us to live and act differently. His rapidly changing appearance was a day-to-day visual reminding us to make the most of every hour. Valuable words flowed freely and loving touches were continuous, because we knew what was about to happen.

But normally, we don’t know. Mitchell Fajman didn’t know. Scripture says: “Why, you do not even know what will happen tomorrow.” (James 4:14) Although we acknowledge this in our heads, our busy lives say otherwise.

Oh, that we might all live today like there was no tomorrow, appreciating each other and each moment.

“You ought to say, ‘If it is the Lord’s will, we will live… and do this or that.’ ” (James 4:15)

Willing to Wait

Posted on October 19, 2011 by Margaret

Life is full of waiting. We wait for paperwork to arrive in the mail, investments to grow, and phone calls to come. We wait for our kids to graduate, our incomes to go up, and the scale to go down. We wait in government offices, theater lobbies, bus stops, and airports.

None of us are any good at waiting. We want results, and we want them yesterday. With the whole world on fast-forward, it irritates us to have to push the pause button, especially when anxiety is running high. A friend of 3 decades recently received a surprising cancer diagnosis. It began with a routine appointment and a bit of question-worthy data.

One test led to another, and in just a few days, she’d heard the shocking news. After surgery to remove a tumor, her doctor told her it would be another 2 weeks before he could give her the details of her post-op treatment, and suddenly she’d been plunked into some very worrisome wait-time.

The waiting rooms of doctors’ offices might just as accurately be called “anxiety rooms.” As a person waits, she may have an open magazine on her lap, but her mind is far away, pondering the what-ifs. Whether we’re upset about new symptoms, waiting for a specific diagnosis, or wondering what our treatment will be, the feeling is the same: apprehension.

I remember waiting to hear what was physically wrong with Nate, wondering if our lives might radically change with what we would be told. My friend, too, has experienced that same nervousness, but she’s made a conscious decision to submit herself to whatever God allows into her life. Asking for prayer, she sent a group email that included a unique testimony. Not knowing what would happen, she was able to calmly write, “I’m in God’s waiting room.”

The minute I read that I knew she was going to rise above her circumstances, because she had lined up with God’s sovereignty over her life, even a life involving cancer. No fidgeting while waiting, no “why me,” no “how could you!” and no anger. Sure, she has questions, but she has fixed her gaze on her heavenly Father and is accomplishing a supremely difficult task: waiting patiently.

While the world’s waiting rooms are marked by angst and dread, God’s waiting room has divine purposes for each occupant. Instead of magazines to read, he offers security. Instead of stale coffee he hands out contentment. Instead of frayed nerves, he provides inner peace. My friend has been brought to a screeching halt, but God hasn’t. He’s energetically putting a plan in motion that will eventually pour considerable blessing into her life.