Today I have been depressed.  Very, very, extremely depressed.  This has been an on-and-off thing over the past five years since we began walking the difficult road of what can only be described as near poverty.  I will save the sad details for another day, but after five years, I can tell you that it begins to feel like something similar to what a chronic pain sufferer must feel on a daily basis. 

At first, people are sympathetic.  After all, you are going through a devastating time.  The Lord gives people *a word* for you.  Friends listen and sometimes slip you some cash, sometimes a lot of cash.  The church prays and intercedes and cares deeply. 

But after a while, it all dwindles down.  Other people's lives go on.  Yours, however, still seems to move very slowly.  I don't mean to imply that people no longer care deeply.  I know they do.  But it becomes very difficult to bring yourself to constantly give the same story over and over and over.  After all, it's been five years!  Shouldn't my husband be making some kind of decent living again by now?  After all, he's able-bodied, not injured or disabled or anything *understandable* like that.  The explanations start sounding like woe-is-me complaints.  So you just stop giving them and start saying "Fine!  Doing well!" when people ask how things are going these days.  It's just easier than saying the truth.  You don't want to alienate friendships with the never-ending downers, so you paint on the smile and lie through your teeth.  Sometimes you try and slip in that it's still painful and hard, just to test the waters and see how folks may respond.  The glazed look gives the obvious answers.  Either they don't understand what you're trying to tell them, or they're embarrassed about not knowing what to say.  Whatever it is, it's not worth your own embarrassment that you've just exposed yourself and gotten a blank stare (or diverted eyes) in return.

So anyway, I was having one of those horrid days earlier today where nothing was good and all was bad.  It is a paralyzing kind of emotion that curls you up in the bed and accepts no comfort from anyone. 

However, the Father has been merciful (I actually prayed for mercy today - and have received it) and I am better this afternoon.  I say merciful because in the past, I simply lived in the depression.  It was not something that fell on me in the morning and dissipated by the evening.  It permeated every moment of my life - for months.

And that is where The Gift of Laughter portion of my title comes in.  I wrote in my journal in November, 2006 (last year) these words:

"Thank You for laughter ~ the gift of laughter.  A gift is never more appreciated than when it is gone.  You have given it back to me and I worship Your awesome name for such an incredible, beautiful gift.  Your love for me is revealed to me everytime I am able to hear myself laugh again."

Indeed.  Amen.

I hope before this day is over, I find myself laughing deeply with my children.  Thank You, God, for your mercy toward Your child this day.