There are many life tools I don’t possess. Like the left-brained aptitude to remember the quadratic formula. Or the wrist coordination to throw a dart in a straight line. But what I do have in my belt is a deep appreciation for silly humor and a big laugh.

In other words, it doesn’t take much to send me into a hearty cackle that sounds like a hen after it lays an egg.

Photo courtesy of Fausto Garcia on Unsplash

Take for example the collection of cards my husband and kids have given me for my birthday over the years.

They know I prefer funny ones over mushy ones. My top two favorites include the one with a squirrel cleaning his eyeglasses with his T-shirt and the one with a monkey doing armpit farts to the tune of happy birthday.

Although I’m a grown woman with a truckload of serious-enough responsibilities, opening these goofy cards nearly pushed me over the edge of bladderville.

I once read that “there is a holiness in laughter.”

I couldn’t agree more.

Laughter brings us together in a shared experience. And if people coming together with joy and good-natured laughter penetrating their souls isn’t holy, then I don’t know what holy is.

But of course, life is not always a laughing matter.  Right at this moment, there is a lot going on in all of our lives that is the opposite of funny.

There’s illness. There’s job insecurity. There’s angst. There’s grief. There’s disappointment. There’s marital discord. There’s rejection. There’s loneliness. There’s fear. There’s hunger. There’s war.

And I assure you that my feeling of helplessness through all that somberly ruckus makes me plenty crabby some days.

But through the muck, I also witness an abundance of faith and joy. And I still find lots of silly little things to laugh about.

Like that meme about the misplaced chapsticks I keep seeing on Facebook (see pink box below). It cracks me up over and over because it pretty much sums up my daily chapstick situation, too, not to mention the overall chaos of my days.

Or like the time I stopped at Walgreens to buy a carton of eggs. Any fans of the TV show The Office out there? Well, if so, it will help you picture what happened next when I tell you the cashier reminded me of my favorite character, Dwight.

Before “Dwight” scanned my egg carton, he opened it up, picked up each egg, held them against his ear, one by one, and shook them while my youngest daughter and I watched with our jaws dropped to the ground. “I just want to make sure your eggs are all ok ma’am,” he says in all seriousness.

Like a cold spray from a wave roaring in from the deep blue sea, funny expressions and moments surprise and rejuvenate me every time. They’re glimpses of grace in the midst of all this hard stuff.

When it comes to laughter (and grace), nobody comes to mind more than my mom.

Although her vocals have significantly diminished due to a thirty-year battle with Parkinson’s Disease, her laugh is legendary in our family. Somehow, her voluminous laughing episodes made everything feel right in the world.

Those of you who read my story “Beyond Describe” in the anthology Here In The Middle may vaguely remember how I described her laugh:

“It starts as a low ripple in the chest, works its way up, then bursts through as a red-nosed, shoulder-shaking, tears-streaming-down-face geyser. When it happens, you stand back, revel in her glee, make sure she comes out of it still breathing and intact, and love her even more.”

This is my mom and dad (and my sister’s dog Waldo) cracking up over who knows what a few years back. I treasure this picture!

It’s never taken much to nearly blow out my mom’s funny bone either. For example, a one-panel Ziggy comic strip in the daily newspaper is plenty. Ever since she first learned to read, she’s always loved the daily comics. She refers to them as “the funnies.” For as long as her finger dexterity allowed, she’d cut out her favorite funnies and preserve them in scrapbooks.

Let me tell you something else about my mom. Her hands and legs may be rigid and stiff as though they’re locked in cement, but her mind, spirit, and sense of humor are still as bright as the stars in the sky.

Speaking of the sky, the Lenten moon—named after the six-week period of fasting and repentance on the Christian liturgical calendar—is shining upon us once again. Although it culminates in the joy of Easter, let’s face it: Lent isn’t exactly known for being a “jolly” time.

As a kid, I dreaded Lent. For starters, the priest always messed up my bangs when he put the ashes on my forehead. But mostly I dreaded it because I had to choose something to give up. Like eating Nut Goodies or watching The Jetsons.

But I’m happy to report that as an adult, I’ve had a few light bulb moments including this one: Lent isn’t about misery. It’s about making room for love, joy, and laughter to shine through us again!

So have a laugh this Lent!

I’m Julie Jo Severson, mom to three teens, freelance writer, editor, and co-author of HERE IN THE MIDDLE: Stories of Love, Loss, and Connection from the Ones Sandwiched in Between. 

This blog, Carvings on a Desk, is where I reconnect with my own voice swirling around in the middle. Read other recent stories.

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