Maybe We Should Laugh A Little More

I know what it means to come along side someone and take some of their hardships onto my own shoulders. I know this because my own shoulders ache and my chest doesn't seem to get as much oxygen as it should. What keeps me going is the hope I have in Christ that if we can hang on for a few more months the doorway of a venomous oppression will be forcibly closed.

Most of the time I try to ignore the evil that can so easily trap us into the cell of hatred. But now Jon and I are faced with an unashamed hatred on a daily basis. It isn't the insults that bother me. It's the constance of them. We can't escape. I must not be so strong in my faith because I allow one person's selfish desperation to erase my smile, quiet my laughter and harden my heart towards what is true and good.

So I pray. I pray that God draws her to Him. I pray for wisdom and strength for Jon and myself. And I remind myself to laugh. I'm learning to have fun even with the seemingly mundane tasks such as running Evan through Macy's to the restroom or laughing as I watch Ciena splashing and spitting as Jon calmly continues to giver her direction on how to swim properly. This is what we need to hang on to and in these moments I feel my shoulders relax and I let out a deep sigh of contentment.