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The Day God Laughed

Marcia Lee Laycock

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The Day God Laughed

“See what you have to look forward to now?” the whisper in my ear came from a friend in the pew behind us and it made my smile widen. It was December 10th and we were on our first outing with our new baby girl. She was only ten days old, but we had braved the frigid Yukon winter to attend the Christmas pageant at a small mission church.

I knew the service wouldn’t be a grand production. The church was just a hall, tiny and dilapidated. The Carols were sung a cappella, without a pianist to help keep us in tune.

The pageant consisted of six or seven children dressed in bathrobes, their heads in kitchen-towel wraps. The backdrop was made of cardboard stars covered in tinfoil.

But I was seeing everything attached to Christmas in a new way. The tinfoil stars glittered more brightly than a chandelier. The carols were as harmonious as though sung by angels. And the children... ah, the children made the story come alive. And I was bursting with thankfulness. I had just been given the desire of my heart, the precious gift of a child of my own.

We had been told it wouldn’t happen, and after five years without conceiving a child, my husband, Spence and I tried to resign ourselves to that reality. We had decided to pursue adoption and were told we were good candidates but should have tests done to determine why we had not been able to conceive. So we travelled to Vancouver and had a series of tests done at Shaunessy hospital. When all was said and done, the doctors told us it was extremely unlikely that we would ever conceive a child together. “Adoption is your best option,” they said. So we began again to pursue the adoption process but then we were told it could take years to get a baby.

Though this was the main concern on my heart, Spence seemed to have another. He began meeting with the pastor of a small mission church where he was finding the answers he’d been searching for since the suicide of his best friend. I was disturbed about this new direction in his life, which just seemed to add more stress to mine as I tried not to focus on my failure to have a child. I took great pains to hide the deep sadness I found almost unbearable. No one knew how much I wanted a child, but the clues were there. I was miserable and angry much of the time. Convinced God was punishing me, I hated Him. The bitterness poured into all aspects of my life.

Until the day God laughed.

It was on the road to Mayo, Yukon. I was going to visit a friend, to help her set up her new weaving loom. I was determined not to think about God or religion or any of the baffling questions my husband kept bringing up. But no matter what I tried, my mind would not rest. The question of God’s existence and what he had to do with me would not go away. In desperation, I pulled my vehicle into a lookout point above the Stewart River.

The beautiful river valley stretched out below, but I barely saw it. In turmoil, I challenged God to do something to prove He was there. Then I realized how foolish I was, talking to a God I did not really believe existed. Then something happened which I have never been able to describe adequately. I “heard” laughter, like a grandfather chuckling, and the words, “Yes, but I love you anyway.” None of this was audible, yet it was more than real.

At that point I thought I was going crazy. Now I was hearing voices! So I turned the radio on as loud as it would go, so I didn’t have to think, and put my foot down on the accelerator of my truck and literally almost flew to my friend’s house. I remember pulling into the driveway and thinking, with relief, that I was safe – I could leave all that religion nonsense behind and just have fun weaving with my friend. I went into the house and sat down to dinner with her and her husband. He had a rather puzzled look on his face when he said, “So, I hear you and Spence are going to church – what’s that all about?”

All we talked about that weekend was spiritual things. But by the time I headed home I had decided I wanted nothing to do with Christianity and I’d just have to hope for the best that Spence’s involvement in church wouldn’t tear our marriage apart.

Sometime later, I woke up one morning and was very ill. Then I sat down and ate a big breakfast, which was not normal for me – I was a cup of coffee and go kind of person. But the next day was the same, and the day after that. I finally confided in my boss at the post office that I had this strange flu. He rolled his eyes and said, “Oh no, not again!” He had a rather funny reputation in town at the time – it seemed every female he hired got pregnant soon after. (They had a great maternity plan at the post office).

But I assured him that could not be. The experts had told us so. But that strange flu would not go away. Then one morning, as I was emptying my stomach I realized that what everyone was telling me was indeed true. I was pregnant. And at that moment I realized God had indeed done something. Not only did he exist, he had supernaturally intervened in my life and given me the desire of my heart – a child. She was born on November 30th, 1982.

It was about that same time that the pastor in that tiny mission church asked if there was anyone in the congregation who would like to commit his life to Christ. I glanced at Spence but he didn’t move, so I didn’t either. But I started to smile because I realized that I had already done that. When Spence shook Pastor Jack’s hand at the door he told him he had decided to “give Jesus a try.” I nodded and said, “yeah, me too.” Jack began to weep. We were both puzzled at that. What was the big deal?

As the days and weeks went by I began to realize what the big deal was. I felt a kind of lightness – a sense of peace and freedom and joy that I had never known could be possible.

“See what you have to look forward to now?” Oh yes, I saw. I saw a future filled with the knowledge there is peace without measure, grace without limit and love without conditions. I saw a future suddenly bright because I now believed the Christmas story. A tiny baby, whose sole purpose was to die for me and all others, was born in Bethlehem. I saw the reality that the Christ is still intimately involved in our lives here on earth. Though the church may be just a hall, the music less than perfect, and the costumes homemade, the story is exquisite. The story is true!

About the author:

Marcia is a pastor's wife, the mother of three grown daughters, a freelance writer and speaker. Her books, short stories, articles and poetry have won awards in Canada and the U.S. and been broadcast on CBC radio. Her work also appears frequently on the world wide web. She has taught writing courses for the Alberta Adult Education Department, Inscribe Christian Writers Fellowship, and The Word Guild. She speaks often for Stonecroft Ministries and at various women’s retreats and events.

Marcia and her family have been privileged to live a short distance from the Arctic Circle, in Dawson City Yukon, where Marcia and her husband came to Christ, and two degrees off the Equator, in Papua New Guinea, where they served with Wycliffe Bible Translators. While there Marcia wrote for the Non-print Media Department of the Summer Institute of Linguistics, producing radio and video scripts. Marcia also held the communications portfolio for the Associated Gospel Churches in Western Canada, writing, editing and producing their quarterly newsletter for six years. She has served on the executive of Inscribe Christian Writers’ Fellowship and is a member of American Christian Fiction Writers

Marcia’s first devotional book, Spur of the Moment, won an Award of Merit at Write!Canada in 2003, a second devotional, Focused Reflections, is now in print. Both books were endorsed by Jeanette Oke, Phil Callaway, Sigmund Brouwer and Mark Buchanan. Marcia was the recipient of the Best New Canadian Christian Author Award in 2006, for her novel One Smooth Stone, published by Castle Quay Books. Her second novel will be released by Castle Quay in the fall of 2011.

Marcia and her family currently live in Central Alberta, Canada where they are involved in planting a new church.

Other books by Marcia Lee Laycock:

Fiction:

One Smooth Stone

A Tumbled Stone

Non-Fiction:

Spur of the Moment

Focused Reflections

Anthologies:

Hot Apple Cide

A Second Cup of Hot Apple Cider

Stories for a Woman’s Heart