“There is….a time to weep and a time to laugh” (Ecclesiastes 3:4).
The doctors at Houston’s M. D. Anderson Medical Center confirmed to Ted that the lung cancer had indeed metastasized to his brain. “Perhaps six months, more or less,” said the doctor when Ted asked how long he had. The worst news imaginable.
However, that night the doctor called his room.
“I’ve been studying the brain scans,” he said. “And I believe yours is Primary Lung Cancer which has moved to the brain.” He went on to say that Primary Brain Cancer is not treatable, but a metastasized Primary Lung Cancer behaves differently in the brain and is often treatable.
There was hope, after all.
When he got off the phone, Ted explained this to his family. He was quiet a minute, then said, “Well, you know it’s your basic bad situation when you’re praying for lung cancer!”
And they laughed.
Question: Is it possible to weep and laugh at the same time?
Evidently it is, because many of us have done it.
My weeping, a rarity for most of my years, was kicked into overdrive in 2015 when the Lord suddenly took my wife home. I am not normally a “man of sorrows,” but soaked many a hankie after Margaret left so abruptly. That was some years back, obviously, but one never forgets the pain. And never stops loving.
Weeping endureth for the night; but joy cometh in the morning (Psalm 30:5). God’s children learn that by experience.
I believe in joy.
Jesus believed in joy. Even though He is called the consummate “Man of Sorrows,” He spoke of “my joy” (see John 17:13). Jesus was a joyful person.
Joy visible is a smile. Joy audible is laughter and singing. Joy palpable is a hug, a friendly touch.