The best places and homes and relationships and meals and conversations and jokes and blog posts and movies and paintings and smiles and hairstyles and shoes and flowers and trees and clouds and wines and seas and songs and then some, give us a glimpse of paradise; the world as it might be, could be, should be. We are given a glimpse of God.

Not a God of someday or far away. A God of everyday and up close.

How could our hearts be large enough for heaven if they are not large enough for earth? The only country I am certain of is the one here below.

The only paradise I know is the one lit by our everyday sun, the land of difficult love, shot through with shadow.

The place where we learn this love, if we learn it at all, shimmers behind every new place we inhabit.
-
Scott Russell Sanders

This is my last post in this shimmering inhabitance called Roots of She. This place, these women, their words, and Jenn offer a glimpse of paradise; the world as it might be, could be, should be. Indeed, we are given a glimpse of God.

For me, these past months have been far more than a glimpse; rather, a long and lingering gaze.

As I’ve pursued words, sentences paragraphs and posts in an attempt to speak of God, it is God who has pursued me – through your presence and in this shimmering place. Thank you.

Laughter is the language of the soul.
-
Pablo Neruda

On a sliding scale of difficulty, my past few weeks have been up there. I say “sliding scale” because, of course, that’s what it is.

Life-struggles are relative; none easier or harder necessarily; they are personal, unique, and connected to our stories, our realities, our awareness, our capacity. All that considered, were I to give them a ranking between 1 and 10, I’d be at about a 7. But in the midst, I’ve been acutely conscious of how often I have laughed.

I have laughed at myself.
I have laughed with others.
I have laughed in spite of myself.
I have laughed so hard I’ve had tears running down my face.
And I have laughed through my tears.

Laughter is a sign. A marker. A navigational tool.

It (re)connects me to the present and reminds me that appearances and circumstances can be deceiving; that despite how things seem, hope and love abide.

When I laugh, no matter how tough things look or feel, I know I am OK; that I can persevere, survive, and even thrive. I may not know how, when, or at what cost, but at least for those gracious moments, I stop doubting.

And in such, for me, laughter and faith are interchangeable.

• More powerful than my doubt, my despair, my sadness, my fear – even if only for those few gracious moments.

• No need to understand or dissect it, it just appears – and encourages, lifts, lightens.
• Not dependent on me – a spontaneous and nearly autonomic response to something mysterious, bigger, higher.

I’m not advocating that we laugh at our troubles, that they are whimsical or silly or comical. I am saying that it is in the darkest and most unlikely of places that faith bursts forth – unbidden and unexpected – like a giggle that escapes our lips when we least expect it; a laugh (and faith) so deep and so healing that we cannot help but know hope.

Trials, tribulations, difficulties and struggles hardly wane. And at least in my experience, they seem a given in this life. But the fact that somehow, even in the midst, laughter can and does occur, is what enables my faith.

Humor is, in fact, a prelude to faith; and laughter is the beginning of prayer. – Reinhold Niebuhr