Why I Laugh a Lot and Why You Should Too

Anyone who knows me knows I like to laugh—a lot.

Photo: Shutterstock AI image

But I haven’t always laughed like this. I mean, yes, I’ve generally always been able to laugh—we Clicks do like to laugh. But to really laugh—both on the outside and on the inside—that’s only been possible for me for the past twenty-some-odd years. Note I’m 42.

As a kid with a physical disability attending public school, I was mercilessly teased in the seventh grade.

“Four eyes” and “How many fingers am I holding up?” were two phrases I dreaded daily as I darted my middle school hallways. While certain classmates—thankfully not everyone—laughed and jeered at my poor eye condition, I cringed. I hated it. Absolutely hated it. At times I wished I could make myself disappear. Simply vanish. Needless to say, amid the raucous laughter all around me, I couldn’t laugh. I might have smiled once or twice or even several times. You know, fake-it-till-you-make-it. That was me.

Made-up smiles on the outside, yet melting inside.

But all that changed sometime in college, not many years after my personal conversion to Christ.

Probably not as profound in the moment as it sounds now—but one day I just sort of woke up to the reality that Jesus is the king over the cosmos.

One might ask: What does Jesus’ lordship over all creation have to do with my laughing on the inside?

Let me illustrate:

You know how as parents things happen to our children that aren’t funny at the time, but later we can laugh about it? Why is that? Why is it that we can laugh years down the road, looking back, but not in the moment?

Answer: In the moment, when your son does a backflip off the swing in the backyard and lands wrong, you’re terrified. Is he hurt? You don’t immediately know the full extent of his injury. Did he break his leg? Or did he just roll his ankle? Do we need to go to the ER? How much will this medical bill be? A flurry of scenarios rush through your mind. It’s no laughing matter.

But then what happens? In most cases, your kid—and you—survive.

Afterward, when your son grows up and gets married and has kids of his own, you can retell the once scary story to your grandkids, laughing at your son’s “acrobatics.”

Why is that?

In short, a safe, secure finish to the story makes the rest of the plot line seem laugh-worthy, since there is a better ending. Bad gets overcome. Good triumphs.

Now let’s connect this illustration to my original point.

Jesus Christ is king over the cosmos. He knows the beginning from the end. And he sovereignly rules and reigns the whole way through. He works all things for his great glory and the good of his people.

This includes my lousy eye condition. God has a clear vision—pun intended—for my eyesight (or lack thereof). God has a funny way of working through difficult and unlikely situations. God likes to use the weak and worthless things, doesn’t he?

Why else would Abraham name his son the way he did—Isaac means “he laughs” (Gen. 21:3)? Nothing is too hard for God. Against all odds, the Lord would bring forth blessing from an aging couple. God does not need strong body parts to accomplish his purposes. The Lord sits in the heavens, and he does whatever he pleases. And sometimes the Lord is pleased to work through even the hardest of trials.

Job’s friends knew this and thus—despite their at times cynical advice—could imagine a future day of laughter (Job 8:21).

Meanwhile, the virtuous woman of Proverbs 31, despite her many cares and concerns, could also laugh at the time to come (Prov. 31:25).

That’s what God’s people do—they hope in a better finish. They know how this story ends and laugh accordingly, recognizing that Christ, the crucified and risen One, is King over all now. And he will steadily continue his rule and reign, clear into eternity.

Don’t get me wrong, there is a time to cry and a time to laugh (Eccl. 3:4). Indeed there may be for you at this moment lots of crying. I know in my own life I’ve certainly shed a decent share of tears over numerous things, bad eyes and all.

And yet even still, I can laugh today, because I know things won’t always be this way. The awful and ugly will not ultimately triumph. Good will overcome bad.

In short, Jesus wins—even now.

So go ahead, laugh a little or a lot—you’re not faking that smile. You’re just practicing for eternal life.