I know I’m in the minority and will probably be roundly criticized, but I think we all could use a little levity about now. I suggested to Bob that what America needs is 24 hours of stand-up comedy with pictures of the tens of thousands who have recovered from this virus running on a constant loop in the background.

Actually, there might be hundreds of thousands who have recovered, because so far we have no way of knowing how many have had the virus and recovered from it without ever knowing they had it.

There's never been a worse time to be a flight attendant. Everyone is on edge. Many flight attendants appear to have found their calling: inflight generals. Their unexpected promotion enables them to scan every row looking for a non-compliant passenger so they can bark out an order to either cooperate with federal mandates or NEVER fly again. The slightest hesitancy on the passengers part results in immediate removal from the airplane.

"What? You're flying out to visit your mother because she's dying? Well, maybe you should have thought about that before you rudely sat there with your mask below your nose...risking other people's lives because you're a SELFISH monster!" 

Doesn’t laughing and thanking God for all those who have recovered sound like more fun than watching the fear-mongering news? Heaven forbid you say anything remotely hopeful. Some of the things people are being commanded to do ARE actually downright humorous. On a layover in California, I witnessed a law enforcement agent wave in a person in off a deserted beach. The beach is off limits. For God's sake! Who do you think are? The utter gall of being out there enjoying the beach, breathing in fresh air and being miles away from another human being?? If you're feeling like you need to get out, there are plenty of Walmarts you can visit! This it utter lunacy. Yet an overwhelming majority are complying.

The Bible not only commands us NOT to fear (hundreds of times), it also tells us there is healing power in laughter.

Years ago a study claimed the average four-year old laughs about 400 times a day while an average adult laughs only about 15 times a day. I was with my dad when I read about this and asked him how many times he thought he laughed in a day. He thought about it for a minute before answering that he and my mom laughed at least 100 times a day. My dad was not prone to exaggeration. In fact, to my knowledge he didn't exaggerate at all. Perhaps because of his background as a pilot and an engineer, he was more apt to make calculated guesses. Thus, there was no doubt in my mind that they were indeed laughing that much. In fact, I have no doubt that everyone in my family (with the possible exception of me) debunks the study’s conclusion about how many times an adult laughs in a day. If my dad was alive today, I'm sure he would find the absurdity all around us VERY humorous. 

I listened to a sermon today. He talked about an interesting study that was done on creative thinking. Part of the study included asking 1600 children the same question every year, beginning in first grade and ending in sixth grade. The question they asked was, “How many of you think of yourselves as artists?”

In every case, all the first graders raised their hands. The number of raised hands dwindled each year. By the sixth grade only a few tentatively raised their hands. The study surmised that the older we get the more we want to be seen as normal. We’re more comfortable conforming to the world around us. We’re afraid to stand out, to be different and, as a result, creativity is stifled. Evidently, as we age, we not only laugh less, but we also lose the confidence to exhibit our creative gifts and are more likely to conform and comply with directives we innately KNOW don't make any sense.

Thankfully, there are those few who aren’t afraid of what other people think of them—who stay true to who God made them to be, constantly creating new things and seeking more and more knowledge. Where would we be without those non-conformists—especially now? I know God is in control, but I also have confidence in the God-given genius and ingenuity of our American scientists and doctors who are diligently seeking to discover the real facts about this virus and finding a cure. Who aren't trying to hoodwink everyone into following rules that aren't based on reality.

In the meantime, there are plenty of silver linings. It’s heartening to see Americans at their best—their generosity and concern for others. 

And, as in every catastrophe, more people look to God. An article in the Wall Street Journal yesterday concluded with this question, “Could a rogue virus lead to a grand creative moment in America’s history? Will Americans, shaken by the reality of a risky universe, rediscover the God who proclaimed Himself sovereign over every catastrophe?”

Could there be a better outcome than that?? To this invisible enemy that has caused so such personal angst and likely unwarranted economic disaster? I don’t think so. All of us will eventually die from something (unless Jesus returns for us first). Jesus promised us we will have trouble, but that there is no reason to fear because “He has overcome the world.” John 16:33 

I'm praying we will stop succumbing to fear and irrational thinking, but instead put our lives in the hands of our Lord, who has proclaimed Himself sovereign over every catastrophe. 

More than ever, in these odd times, I’m missing my family members who have been taken Home to be with Him. I want to laugh with them, to hear them re-tell old stories like only they could. Every single one of them was so darn funny.

Nanny, my great-grandmother, found so many things amusing. Even after she lost her hearing completely, my mom would jot down a funny incident and she’d read it and then shake with laughter until the tears ran down her face. I have her name written down in my Bible next to the verse that says, “…I have learned to be content in all circumstances.”

When Nanny was still at the stage of just being "hard of hearing," she’d think she was whispering when she was actually saying things loud enough to be heard in the next room.

On one occasion, we had a visitor who had gained some weight. When the visitor left the room, Nanny ‘whispered,’ “Was that Martha?!? Why, she’s put on so much weight, I scarcely recognized her!”

We frantically made the hand motion to zip it, and, with her usual quick-wittedness, she added, “But it is so becoming!”

To be fair, she always described herself as being as "fat as a butcher’s dog.”

I heard her say this so often that as a little girl I started using it for whatever unfortunate state of being I happened to find myself in. I was as “hungry as a butcher’s dog,” “as tired as a butcher’s dog,” “as mad as a butcher’s dog” and so on. I didn’t understand why my parents found this so funny until years later.

One of my sweetest memories of Nanny was her “whispered” prayers. When she spent the night at our house, she slept in the twin bed next to mine. Those prayers seemed endless, she covered everyone in prayer. She prayed honestly and specifically—some requests I’m sure she would be mortified to know I could hear loud and clear. I remember her praying for help to show Christ-like love to a person she clearly found intolerable. She’d say, “You know Lord how I feel about [so and so]. Oh, how I do need Your help with that one.”

She would specifically thank God for all of us. I loved hearing my own name as she went down the list.

As more and more of my faithful pray-ers were taken Home, it saddened me to know I was losing their prayers along with their physical presence. I have “Papa” written in my Bible next to the verse, “The prayers of a righteous man are powerful and effective.” Papa, my maternal grandfather, who never got off the phone without telling me how much he prayed for me, especially after Brett was born. 

Of course, I know no one prayed for me more than my mom did. I’ve struggled for decades with sleep, and every morning she would ask me how I slept. She’d be thrilled on those rare days I’d tell her that I’d slept through the night and woke up feeling rested. Praise God!

I wish I could remember where I read it, but anyway, it said that because God is outside of time, our prayers are eternal. When I read that, my eyes welled up at the thought that my loved ones prayers did not end when their lives here on earth did. Their prayers are still sustaining me!

Only God knows how much I miss calling my mom up and asking her to pray for me. How often I’d get off the phone encouraged and even laughing out loud about things that just moments ago had seemed so dire.

I take comfort in knowing millions of Americans are praying for God to heal our land. What a gift it is to lift each other up in prayer!

    What a friend we have in Jesus

   All our sins and griefs to bear

     And what a privilege to carry

        Everything to God in prayer.

         Oh, what peace we often forfeit

           Oh, what needless pain we bear

             All because we do not carry

              Everything to God in prayer....