Life is funny. Life makes me laugh. Or as they pronounce it here in the South, “Laugh makes me laugh.”

Steve and I had this conversation on the ride home from a community group recently:

Steve:  What did she mean “laugh is hard?”

Me:  I think that’s “life is hard.”

Just the other day, my friendly husband struck up a conversation with a guy in McDonald’s whose business takes him to auctions all over the South.

Steve:  What is your business exactly?

The guy:  Science.

Steve:  What kind of science is that?

The guy:  Not science, si-i-gns.

My husband makes me laugh at laugh.

At work, my biggest responsibility of the entire year is graduation, especially the three back-to-back ceremonies in May. This year, the outdoor ceremony went by without a hitch. But just barely. We prepared for various contingency plans since heavy thunderstorms were predicted; relieved that they never happened.

The very next day our tree fell down, blocking our exit from the house which would have made me late for the big day. And then the day after that, my car battery died. With its final breath, it resuscitated my previously inactive alarm system, baffling our mechanic, irritating his other customers, and making me quite late for work.

I’m grateful these things happened after graduation. And glad my first response is still laughter.

Last year, two days before graduation, I stopped at the doctor’s because I was having nose bleeds. He said I had a tumor and he could snip it out and I’d be good to go. I didn’t want to walk around with a tumor in my nose, so I said, “Sure, why not?”  Later I found out why not. I worked at graduation on drugs, sporting a lovely nose bandage.

 My officemates attempted to disguise it with a moustache. That also made me laugh. (Perhaps that was the pain meds speaking.)

My life just strikes me as comical. Often. I’ve been told that things just happen to me. But I think they happen to all of us. Some of us think our crazy happenings are funny, some get dramatic about it, and some are bored. The ability to laugh at myself and not take myself seriously keeps me going. I can’t imagine my first year in Romania without the exact team I had, a team which laughed together during stressful times.

In my short time at this new job, I’ve had several moments which make me exclaim “Opa!” (Romanian for whoops).

Once I had to inform a bunch of important people about a ceremony in front of the Martin Luther statue on campus. I typed Martin Luther King, hit Send, then exclaimed, “Oh, crap!” I decided to own up to it, and thankfully I still have a job.

Later, I had to invite other important people (senators and such) to a meeting and ask them to call me to RSVP. After I hit Send (maybe there’s a pattern here), I noticed I had typed in my home number. I quickly called my husband and told him not to answer the phone under any circumstance. As soon as I got home, I made a new voicemail recording. “Hello, you’ve reached Taryn Hutchison. I’m away from my desk at the moment. Please leave me a message and I’ll get right back to you.”

I don’t often quote from Proverbs 31 because that woman puts me under the pile. Big time. But I can’t get verse 25 out of my mind. “She is clothed with strength and dignity; she can laugh at the days to come.”

Does your laugh make you laugh? Can you laugh at the days to come?