Ad(Ministry) of Laughter


(Author’s Note: In honor of Amanda, who has a good laugh from the sounds of it)

When I laugh it’s like a gunshot

It doesn’t apologize.

I have giraffe laughs for nervousness and weak knees,

Did you know that Giraffe’s don’t hold up well in captivity?

On days where the sky is misted over with some downcast color of barf,

I have gunshot laughs,

Either that or when they scare the hell out of people at pot lucks.

Pass the fried chicken and BOOM!


Now, where’s the ketchup?

On days with no mist, I have a Beavis and Butthead laugh,

My friends know it well because it’s a cross between a terrible pop culture reference and just being easily entertained.

What about the giggles that come out of sugar highs? Those don’t last long, but man are they both explosive and really, really stupid. It’s like I was drunk, except I just really like Airheads and KitKats,

I’ll just burble out some lolz.

But yeah, most of the times I just do with slick grin, a silly smile, and five year old grins,

I haven’t outgrown the days where I lied with pudding on my face

And I hope I never do.

You see, the pudding grins make me laugh still, even when there is no pudding on my face;

I like that the dimples haven’t changed.

I don’t know how many sets I have,

It’s not something I plan on counting,

Because I count and quantify everything else;

If I count the dimples, there would be nothing left.

So no, I try to flash them in social gatherings,

I know that the giggles are enough to break even the most solemn of occasions into a “laughter meditation”,

Or whatever those fruity New Yorker’s I saw on Facebook called it the other day.

It’s not that complicated,

Jesus wept,

But you know what?

He also had the most reason for weeping, and he also had a good time here or there before I bore the cross, at least from what I can tell. If anyone tells you God doesn’t have a sense of humor,

Don’t drink their Koolaid.

But, come and drink some wine spiked with salvation,

I here we keep it in a rusty punch bowl in the back,

Along with all of the skeletons that are too big to fit in our suitcases,

See what I did there? Lol, it wasn’t that funny.

But more importantly,

It’s good to laugh.

It’s good to forgive.

It’s good to rip wounds off so they will scab right

When they have yet to scab all the way at all.

It’s not right to insult other people’s wounds,

But if you’ve got a third degree burn, wouldn’t you want some medical treatment with that?

Jesus heals on a regular basis,

And he’s gonna be your best Nurse, way past triage.

I’m going to raise up the Holy Spirit in a holy advertisement,

But I don’t need to,

God’s got his own plugs in public places,

And private, weeping ones too.

You don’t have to laugh to move forward, not when Christ is poking you.

It’s okay to not know the rest, it ebbs and flows and it is a waste of your time to count dimples,

But laughter?

Keep it.

Learn it.

Grow it for special occasions.

Because laughing is the best ministry,

And that never gets old.


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I am a second-grade teacher and pastor-to-be who loves people. I spend my weekends with friends or wandering the museums of DC alone and with a journal, trying to put words on the places of the soul that still feel wordless. I spent most of my days at school trying to learn patience through my students and running on sheer nerdy passion. I follow Jesus Christ, and savor that as my most important identity--that I am a child of God, as are infinite others, regardless of their other identities. Christ is my one thing.

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