One of the most satisfying gifts one could receive is that of a series of smiles, chuckles, laughter, even an occasional guffaw.
One gift I received for Christmas last month provided all of those things. It even offset the much more utilitarian Vitafit Smart Body Fat Scale my wife gave me. (She's very subtle with her hints.)
But the gift of laughter came from my sister-in-law Brenda, who gifted me a book. Those who know me know that books are Number 1 with me. But this wasn't just any book. It wasn't even a much-coveted book on a subject of one of my numerous writing projects. It was a comic book, How Come I Always Get Blamed for the Things I Do? by Brian Crane.
For some reason (perhaps because the computer somehow knew that I had recently turned 70?), my Facebook feed has been serving up frequent Pickles cartoons. Those are the strips featuring as main characters Earl and Opal Pickle, with supporting roles played by a dog named Roscoe, a cat named Muffin, a daughter named Sylvia, and a grandson named Nelson.
I found the strips funny, often laughing out loud as I read them. I can usually read an entire Sunday comics section, enjoying the humor immensely, and yet never crack a smile. But the Pickles strip is different, and I found myself laughing aloud at nearly all of the ones that popped up on my Facebook feed.
In fact, I found many of them so funny that I just had to share them with my wife, daring to interrupt her counting of stitches as she knitted and thereby repeatedly committing the unpardonable sin.
"Hey, Honey, listen to this. This is so 'us!'"
I read so many that she would hear me start to laugh and would immediately interject before I could say a word, "Don't read it to me; I'm counting!" I'd often read them to her anyway. She sometimes laughed, especially if the joke was on Earl. She just rolled her eyes when it was on Opal.
So when Christmas rolled around, one can only imagine my delight when I opened the gift-wrapped Pickles book from Brenda. As soon as we had finished opening all the gifts and cleaning up all the bows and ribbons and wrapping paper, I sat down to read the book. I laughed and read them to anyone who would listen. Some laughed even before I reached the strips' punch lines, suggesting to me that maybe they were just laughing at me laughing at the strips.
Wise King Solomon wrote, "A merry heart doeth good like a medicine" (Pro. 17:22). He certainly knew what he was talking about. Reader's Digest got it, too, having in its pages a regular feature titled "Laughter Is the Best Medicine." I certainly felt better after laughing my way through that Pickles book! In fact, it might even be as beneficial to me as that Vitafit Fat Scale.
What makes you laugh? The Three Stooges, Andy Griffith, or I Love Lucy reruns? Maybe Calvin and Hobbes or Dilbert or B.C. comic strips?
Whatever makes you laugh, keep reading or viewing and laughing. It'll do you good! If not, consider getting a Vitafit Fat Scale!