Part of "A Journey to Charis"
because I feel terrible, and I need to laugh today.This week has been hideous. That is the clinical term. I have a case of hideous that no one can seem to find the right treatment for. Not even a prescription for more cowbell is going to cure it.
I have a friend who reminds me I need to laugh when the hideous gets this severe. She reminded me again a couple of days ago.
There's nothing to laugh about, though. Nothing. It's all hideous, you know.
And then an old memory came to mind.
A couple summers ago, I was all bent out of shape because of a particular situation I had no control over. It had to do with what I felt was bureaucracy and and injustice, and I was in a really bad mood about it, especially because it affected me so personally. I was all perturbed and stressed out.
I happened to be on the way home from the library the day the frustration really peaked. There is a huge vacant lot on the way home that's usually used for event parking.
It called to me...
And I turned in.
I'm not sure what came over me at that point, but I started doing donuts in the dirt and gravel. Big billows of dust began swirling around me like my own personal tornado. I began to laugh so hysterically, I cried.
Finally, I stopped. Wasn't that awesome, I asked my kids, who were playing their Game Boys in the very back of the van.
What? they replied. They hadn't even noticed my vehicular maneuvers and my sweet display of momentary insanity.
I just did donuts in the vacant lot, I said incredulously.
You're so weird, mom.
That's right, I replied. So put down the video games, cause we're going to have a second round.
So off we went again with the 360's until Josh noticed a county vehicle barreling down the hill in the distance.
Uh, mom... I think you'd better leave now.
The county worker obviously thought I was some teenager who'd absconded with their mom's sweet van to go for a joy ride. But there was no way he was going to put a damper on my hilarity and stress relieving endeavors. So I pulled out of the vacant lot and drove home in a fit of laughter.
I just asked Josh if he remembered that day.
Yes, he said, grinning. Mom, maybe you need to go to the library today.
I might just have to return some hideous and take care of some overdue laughter.
Strength and dignity are her clothing,
and she laughs at the time to come.