A little tongue in cheek, but not much:

I am sitting in my living room talking on the phone with my sister, Liz. She is another hard-working, busy matriarch so we often do little more that businessy “catching-up” with each other’s families. But today, we are relaxed, there is time, and we are really talking! Sheer pleasure!

In the background, I have put on Pandora radio. Have you heard of Pandora? It is a website where you can type in musical artists, or particular songs you most enjoy. The site then analyzes the musical “DNA” of these choices, and plays them along with similar pieces, or similar artists and composers. There is little I enjoy more than choosing a few of my customized “stations” and putting them on shuffle. I then listen to everything from Henry Purcell and Bach to Joan Baez and Nat King Cole, never knowing what is coming next.

Oh! John is home early! He sits down at the kitchen table and leaves my Pandora stations on. I continue to talk with Liz. In the background, I hear the ethereal voices of another Purcell piece. And another. Lots of Purcell today. Then, up comes Perry Como – “Catch A Falling Star”…And, as I chat, a presence wafts into the room. It is John. He is on his toes, spinning, pirouetting, arms held awkwardly above his head.

Oh, Liz? It is John. I think he is trying to tell me that he does not like Perry Como. He considers it sappy, ‘shlocky’, elevator music.

Alright, John. Just because your parents listened to opera, and Rostropovich and Shostakovich…Mine listened to Big Band ,The Mills Brothers and Perry Como.. Get over it! You knew that when you married me….

The vision makes no response, but smiles gently and glides from the room, with a final little wiggle of its hindquarters as it rounds the corner.  OK. OK. Point made. When John is home, we turn off the Perry Como station…

How I love the ridiculous! And how I love a husband who embraces the ridiculous for the sheer fun of it!

Do you know, I think that has been one of the healthiest aspects of our marriage? We have had potentially marriage-shattering challenges in our forty years together. At times we have wondered, “Can we  get through another twenty-four hours, never mind another twenty-five years?”  Just as you have if you are a son of Adam or a daughter of Eve. But John can always make me laugh.

Do you remember Laura Ingalls Wilder concluding as an older girl that it was Pa’s fiddle that had got them through their years of grinding disappointment? With us, it has been John’s humor. Isn’t God good to bless these little bits of sheer humanness to us, so richly?

I conclude with Charles Spurgeon’s words as he and a friend were wending their way through some woods, chatting and laughing about things. He pulled his friend down beside him with a tree trunk as their pew and said,” Right now, let us thank God for the gift of laughter.”