I remember it like it was yesterday. I was wearing my first pair of black boots, class had just ended, and I was headed to my cousin’s car to get a ride home after school. With the swagger that only comes from being 14 I walked confidently across the parking lot but then, like a bat outta hell, she came around the corner, 30 miles per hour, and with no time to dive for safety SHE HIT ME! I rolled up on her hood and fell off the side. She rolled down her window to see if i was breathing. That, apparently, was enough to calm her since she quicky drove off with disregard to the pile of bones she had left in her tracks. I was left, face up on the ground of the parking lot only to hear my friends busting a gut from afar. They were so overwhelmed with laughter they dismissed the thought of helping me up. I wanted to cry but I was convinced no one saw the near murder scene so I got up and hobbled the rest of the way to my cousin’s car. Within an hour I was in the emergency room to ensure I hadn’t broken anything, like my brain, that I would need later. That night I took pain killers like candy and was ready to face the next day at school, assuring myself no one heard or saw the frightful sight.
So I thought no one saw… oh, they saw. I arrived to school that next morning to the humiliation of pictures of cars with a stick figure and cut out photo of my self on the hood of the cars.
In my 14 year old mind I stumbled upon something great, a principle that would take me far. Laughing at myself. We so easily take ourselves seriously and in the process forget we are human, demanding only perfection of imperfect and fallen nature. When you find yourselves in those moments when you’ve lost the joy you once had and you are to critical of yourself, laugh.
Psalm 126:2 Then our mouth was filled with laughter, and our tongue with shouts of joy; then they said among the nations, “The Lord has done great things for them.”