Sep 21, 2009

If I could bottle baby laughter and sell it, I would be RICH!

Yesterday I was having a bad time.  Not really sure why except that I had a lot of stuff swirling in my mind that I had not processed, and when I sat down at church and the worship started, tears rolled down my cheeks in a steady stream.  I didn't even get up to go to the bathroom to try and conceal them, realizing that they were descending without my permission and that no amount of toilet paper pressed to my eyeball was going to stop them.  My poor husband held my hand silently.  A sweet friend touched my shoulder and asked if I was okay, and through a veil of wetness I helplessly smiled with quivering lips.  The music stopped.  More tears.  Sermon.  Tears still flowing (no offense, Glenn!  It was not anything you said in your sermon), and then finally a break in the stream . . . . . . . Despite the fact that I had finished with my impromptu crying session, I still felt as if a heavy, wet blanket was on me and making my joy moldy and spoiled.  I was walking around with it.  It was heavy.

Then after church we were sitting at the table eating lunch.  Jon had to run down to school to take care of a situation.  Tate, Gracie, Allie and Annabelle and I were eating our lunches silently.  And then, breaking the silence was THE BEST SOUND I HAVE HEARD IN A WHILE!  Allie and I burst into uncontrollable laughter.  Annabelle was throwing macaroni on the innocent kitten lurking under her high chair and she was CRACKING HERSELF UP like I have never heard.  She was in hysterics.  AND, we were in hysterics.  And like that, the heavy wet blanket of burdens was lifted.  Well, hello there JOY!  

Thank you, Lord, for all that you have blessed me with, and for even the little things like the hysterical laughter of a 1 year old sweet pea, that remind me of your truths.  

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