I’ve sometimes wondered what it sounded like when Jesus laughed. Was He a chuckler? Or did he let out a sudden big guffaw?  Snickering seems wrong somehow. My favorite idea is Jesus smiling and then erupting in delighted, shoulder shaking merriment.  

One weekend all three of my teens were baptized. It was their choice, there wasn’t any pressure from their parents and pastors. Somehow all three were inspired to say “yes, Jesus. I will follow.”  

As my husband and I watched them step into the baptismal with the leaders they chose, it was overwhelming. Tears of joy flowed without restraint. They beamed and laughed, the congregation sang and danced.  

At the party we hosted after the service a friend asked me, “how does it feel to watch your kids get baptized?” I found myself without a descriptor. It was a new feeling and the words were elusive.  

Words like joyful, happy, relief, wonder …. they touch the borders but aren’t complete.  

So I’ve ruminated on that morning, reliving it and letting the tears come again, trying to find a word that sums it up. Rather than a word, a picture seems to capture it.  

I imagine myself standing in a garden and planting seeds with the sun on my back. Within months there is a bitter freeze, and a feeling that the invested time and energy is long and unfruitful, all the roots spreading and reaching may be happening, but it’s frustratingly invisible.  

That Baptism Sunday felt like a warm and gentle Spring drizzle with the sun peeking through. It felt like hosta and rhododendron and hydrangea and peony and lily of the valley bursting into the light, revealing the beauty that had been cultivated underground. It felt like nourishment and growth, like faith becoming sight.  

It felt like God was laughing.