"a time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance;"
(Ecclesiastes 3:4 KJV)
There’s a little white church in the holler just past the cow pasture and before you hit the big oak with the lightning scar down the side. It’s got a steeple that leans just enough to make you nervous, and a congregation full of folks who love Jesus, fried chicken, and their stories told long and loud.
Now, in this church—Mount Gilead Full Gospel Missionary Baptist Pentecostal Free Will Holiness Tabernacle (yes, all that)—there was a young man named Cody Ray who’d been dragged to service by his meemaw, Miss Loretta. Miss Loretta wore a Sunday hat the size of a satellite dish and smelled like a mixture of lavender, fried okra, and menthol rub.
This particular Sunday was no different. Cody Ray was sitting three pews from the front, right between Miss Loretta and Sister Patty Lou, the church’s self-appointed tambourine queen who couldn't keep a beat if her life depended on it and couldn't hear very well. Her response was, "Huh?" The choir was up, Pastor Buck was fired up, and the air conditioner was most definitely not working.
Now, Pastor Buck got to preaching on the joy of the Lord, veins poppin’ in his forehead, sweat flying like holy rain, and as he got to yelling “Can I get a HALLELUJAH?!”—that’s when it happened.
Sister Patty Lou’s wig came loose.
One strong tambourine shake too many and FWUMP!—it launched like a frisbee and landed right in Brother Cletus’s lap, who was napping through the sermon as usual. The poor man woke up, thought it was a raccoon, and hollered so loud three deacons hit the floor thinking the rapture had come.
And Cody Ray? He tried. He really did. But a snort escaped. Then a chortle. Then he bent over, shoulders shaking, face beet red, trying to hold it in. But once you laugh in church, you either fight it or surrender.
He surrendered.
He laughed so hard the pew shook. Miss Loretta tried to whack him with her fan, but ended up knocking her own hat sideways. The laughter became contagious as other members began laughing, and before anyone could stop themselves, the whole church was losing control. Laughter erupted from everyone! The choir stopped singing. Pastor Buck lost his place in the sermon. Sister Patty Lou didn’t notice and kept tambourining like her hands were on fire, floral print cotton dress just swinging to and fro. And just like that, a peaceful Sunday service turned into a frolic of good faith and fun.
Sometimes, laughter sneaks in where you least expect it. And though we often think church has to be solemn and serious, the Bible tells us there’s a time to laugh. Joy is a gift from God—it bubbles up when hearts are light and when the Spirit moves, sometimes even through a wig mishap and a poorly timed tambourine solo.
Cody Ray learned that day that reverence doesn’t mean you can’t rejoice. And laughter—especially in the house of God—isn’t always irreverent. Sometimes, it’s healing. It’s contagious. And it reminds us that our faith isn’t about perfection, it’s about presence—being in the moment with a heart full of joy.
Prayer:
"Lord, thank You for the gift of laughter. Help me not to take myself too seriously, and to find joy in even the unexpected moments. May my heart always be open to Your joy—whether it comes through a sermon, a song, or a flying wig. Amen."
When was the last time you laughed so hard you couldn’t stop? Could it have been God reminding you to enjoy the moment?
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