There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under heaven...

 

I journey this road of life.  I wander along paths untrod and I peer through branches, wondering when I'll get a glimpse of my destination.  Just one brief tantalizing hint as to where this road will end.  Flashes of colour and possibilities.

 

My heart leaps and wonders... could this be it?  Have I finally escaped the woods and entered the clearing?  Can I finally breathe deep and take stock of the horizon?

 

Yet still I venture, one foot after another, one step at a time, down this bend in the road.

 

I look back and see how far I've come.  I look back and long to laugh at the insecurities and fears and wonders and dreams that consumed a mere mile ago.  In this short span I have travelled, I see that my road will only become more twisted and more challenging.  But I am more prepared.  I take delight in the unseen turns that come my way.  My strengthened limbs skip at the steep steps stretching out before them.

 

I pause a moment to catch my breath and gaze at the field of blessings surrounding me.  Perhaps this is indeed a small clearing.  Perhaps this is a meadow of daisies peeping out from the trees.  A moment of respite from the harsh winds of life.  But still I yearn for the forest.  The woods offer more mystery and enchantment than the sweet sensation of relaxing among flowers.

 

But woodland flowers are still wild.

 

I realise I no longer wish to slow down and capture each magical moment as it comes.  I no longer feel the need to stop and analyse each fork in the road.

 

The darkness no longer pervades.  Dawn is breaking.  The whisper of Hope beckons, and I cannot resist.

 

Sunlight filtering through leafy branches awakens the sleepy buds, and I discover the birth of a new season, a new chance, a new world, a new life.  A new discipline.  A new mind.  A new heart.

 

A soul refreshed by the promise of Spring.

 

Perhaps, I muse, it is time to draw a curtain on the path behind me.  Perhaps one day I'll decide to meander down memory lane and glimpse this old life through new eyes.  But for now there is little reason to keep looking over my shoulder.

 

Did I not enjoy my previous wanderings?  Did I not delight in the fellow travellers I met along the way?  Did I not rejoice in the friendships that were built in meanderings?  Did I not appreciate the shouts of encouragement that would spurn me on?

 

Yes.  Oh, yes.

 

Which is why this journey will not be erased, but placed carefully in the memory book of the mind.  A yearbook of sorts, with autographs of those who found a familiar soul within these words and perhaps gleaned something of worth among its pages.

 

To all those who have read...

...I thank you.

 

To all those who have read, enjoyed, learned, and wondered...

  ...I befriend you.

 

To all those curious about the bend in the road...

...I welcome you.

 

To all those who have felt the whispering of a kindred spirit...

...I bless you.

 

Grace and Peace.

Laughter in the face of fear is a powerful weapon.

 

But where does this laughter come from?  What part of our heart decides to forget the pain and scars and allow the eyes to twinkle merrily?  What part of our mind decides to battle doubts and worries with a sword joy?

 

Is it merely a survival instict?  A way to manage the hurt and frustration each day brings?  To live in a plastic bubble of denial?  To hide from the darkness and pretend it doesn't exist?

 

Or, could it be, yes, could it possibly be something more?

 

Something more than just a trick to vanquish the demons of the mind.  Something more than just chewing gum filling the crack of a bulging dam of anxiety.  Something more than mere mind over matter.

 

It is not happiness that brings on this laughter.  There is joy, to be certain... but joy and happiness are rarely the same.  If there is happiness, it is only a result from the laughter.

 

It is not a reaction to some comic jest.  That is the sort of laughter that erupts for a second and then is easily forgotten.  No, this is laughter that lingers, that dances about even when the voice is lost and the eyes veil the twinkle.

 

This is laughter that comes from the deepest part of the soul.

 

Laughter that reflects something the mind cannot comprehend and for which the heart perpetually yearns.  Laughter that flies in the face of logic and defies accepted philosophies of life.  Laughter that relies not on my physical and mental well-being...

 

...but on something more.

 

Faith.

 

Trust.

 

Peace.

 

From this well-spring of life-giving gifts, how can the soul not spill over in its laughter of joy, its laughter of hope, its laughter of praise?

 

You may not be able to hear me.  My lips may be silent.  My eyes may hide their twinkle.  My mind may churn the trials of the day.  My heart may droop in the face of oppression.

 

But rest assured, my soul still rejoices, still dances, still sings, still...

 

...laughs.