The death of my laughter?

For my last night in Nairobi last night, I had to take advantage of the food and drink which is not so easy to come by in Juba, where I arrived today. I went for dinner with a friend who was introduced to me by a work colleague and friend based in Nairobi. One of the things I love about being in Africa is the interesting, fun and inspiring people you come across and the fact that you let your guard down because somehow you feel this closeness or connection because you both have the similar interest of Africa. It’s not even a big connection, but it’s opened the door to many of the friends I’ve made here and I’m thankful for that.

So of course in my typical fashion, I talked a lot over dinner attempting to be a story teller (I’m in no way as gifted at it as lots of my friends). In my story-telling, I reminisced over some funny times and experiences. I guess I laughed quite a bit throughout the night because my friend commented on my laugh and the fact that it was uplifting, maybe even contagious.

I got to thinking - Do I laugh much / enough in Juba? I honestly don’t think so. Actually, I don’t. So since last night, I tried to analyse why this is the case. I wonder if subconsciously, the fact that I’m in Africa has made me more serious, more cynical and not enabled me to laugh at myself as I used to. The reality of Africa is a hard one to stomach. Don’t get me wrong though – I, as an expatriate living in my nice compound, don’t experience any of the injustices that Sudanese all around me have faced their entire lives. I am helped by cooks and cleaners. I have electricity. I have clean drinking water. I have access to a vehicle and most importantly, if things go horribly wrong and this place becomes insecure or unbearable, I can choose to get on a plane almost immediately and get out of here. This is why I bring up the “subconsiousness” of the situation. I think there is truth to the fact that my proximity to extreme suffering and injustice has changed me. This may also be coupled with the fact that I work really hard and sometimes it’s just intense and serious here.

In coming to this conclusion, I’m disappointed with myself. What has always amazed me in my trips to the field sites is the smiling faces that I’ve encountered - the joy and warmth that sometimes no amount of suffering can overtake - A mother holding her extremely malnourished child who is receiving scheduled feedings but with a genuine smile on her face. I know a smile is part of the universal language, but I don’t know I think it’s more than that. I ask myself -how can I let a situation which I don’t even have to live take away my smile and laughter when someone living it can be at peace and even experience joy? I think coming from the modern West, we’ve determined that we can only be happy, experience joy and thus laugh if things are comfortable – if things are how WE want them to be, if things go our way so the component of selfishness within our happiness is huge.

Unfortunately, suffering is part of life. I still haven’t reconciled why some people suffer more than others – why suffering is disproportionate among people / continents. I’m not counting on figuring this one out on my own. This question will accompany my long list of questions (both significant and insignificant) that I will ask our Creator one day. The only way I can process it here and now is to simply recognise it as an opportunity for God’s glory to be revealed, an opportunity to share Jesus. The smiling mother reveals just that to me – God’s glory and the confirmation of the bigger picture. I cannot use suffering in the world as an excuse for my lack of laughter, for the suppression of my God-given personality. Romans 5:2-5 states “..And we rejoice in the hope of the glory of God. Not only so, but we also rejoice in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not disappoint us, because God has poured out his love into our hearts by the Holy Spirit, whom he has given us.”

In conclusion, I’m going to start laughing again. I’m going to rejoice, not because of the immediate day-to-day things that impact me, but because of my hope in the glory of God. I’m going to do my best to see the joy in all situations – if not selfishly for my own sanity, but for those around me – because that’s just it – laughter is contagious- it sometimes has more of an effect on others than on the one actually laughing (I’m grateful to my friend for reminding me of this). Laughter is evidence of God’s love in our hearts. Contagious and uplifting laughter is a gift and what kind of person would I be if I neglected to use one of the gifts I had been given? Not the one I’m striving to be everyday.