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Do you think God has a sense of humor?
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BeyondET
Guest
Here's another
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2 kings 9:20
The lookout reported, "He has reached them, but he isn't coming back either. The driving is like that of Jehu son of Nimshi--he drives like a maniac."[/TD]
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BeyondET
Guest
Boy I'm surely going to be tossed into desert for these lol..
“Better to live in a desert than with a quarrelsome and nagging wife.”
Proverbs 21:19,
“Better to live in a desert than with a quarrelsome and nagging wife.”
Proverbs 21:19,
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coby
Guest
A girl I knew lived with a few other girls in a students' home. It was a house and they rented the rooms from the owner, a man. When he wanted to raise the rent and they didn't agree with it he came up with that text LOL.
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BeyondET
Guest
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BeyondET
Guest
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AuntieAnt
Guest
I think God does have a sense of humor.
One day while pondering life I asked Him, "Father, how long is a million years to you?"
And He answered, "To Me, a million years is as a minute, my child."
I then asked, "How much is a million dollars to you?"
"To Me, a million dollars is as a penny," God replied.
Thinking that over, I then asked, "God, will you please give me a penny?"
"In a minute," said God with a smile.
One day while pondering life I asked Him, "Father, how long is a million years to you?"
And He answered, "To Me, a million years is as a minute, my child."
I then asked, "How much is a million dollars to you?"
"To Me, a million dollars is as a penny," God replied.
Thinking that over, I then asked, "God, will you please give me a penny?"
"In a minute," said God with a smile.
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Now, I sure didnt see Christians as being any of the above you named, but quite the opposite really.
But if jesting (or humor) in Ephes 5:4 was of the Spirit of God why do the apostles ask us to put it off?
I wouldn't call all seriousness in them or the Spirit in them"sour" (and put the Spirit for a bitter lemon in respects to having an absence of those things) for the most part. You can be kind, and serious without having a three stooges sense of humor. Jesus never told a joke and we dont see him laughing, jesting and backslapping his disciples and I wouldnt call Jesus sour because I cannot even see those things in him.
In respects to some who might prefer to be much more serious because they might find themselves surrounded (even out numbered) by the three stooges disposition types. But serious is not bitter, being resentful and hateful is bitterness, but that is no different (to me) so much as the mocking and laughter that come from the other side of things.
Jesus was far more serious then us and yet we are to walk like him, but I dont see him being partial to much of our jestings (or sense of humors) as others might believe He is. If he was I suppose we could show it. I cant show it.
And believe me, I have the hugest sense of humor and after all my searching and wanting to justify it I came up without any justification for it, and its taken me some years to bring that under me, and I still have to watch myself there.
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Depleted
Guest
Dear women I didn't write these verses please don't quarrel with me hahaha I'm just a poster
Proverbs 27:15-16
15 A quarrelsome wife is like the dripping
of a leaky roof in a rainstorm;
16 restraining her is like restraining the wind
or grasping oil with the hand.
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Depleted
Guest
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AuntieAnt
Guest
Here's the thing though, Sis Pilgrim ~ The Lord said unless we're like children, we can't fully realize His kingdom. Children laugh with abandon! And where Jesus is, there is joy overflowing!
I wouldn't worry about how the Lord wants us to perform. When we know real fellowship with Christ, when we realize we are genuinely IN Christ, there's no fear of disappointing Him. Jesus is truly love alive in us. There's no fear at all in Him.
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Depleted
Guest
Actually, Jesus was pretty funny. We merely heard the humor so often that we don't get the jokes.
Mtt. 16:18
18 And I tell you, you are Peter, and on this rock I will build my church, and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it.
(Peter was the same guy who told Jesus he'd protect him and then denied him three times.)
And, sarcastic person that I am, I like using "whitewashed sepulcher" on occasion. It's so old and unused enough that I can insult someone and walk away while he's still figuring out if I insulted him. But darn if the Pharisees didn't get that one!
You're rather missing the point though. Peter was no rock, and yet he surely was with God in him. The same can be said with you trying to control your humor just because you didn't catch the jokes. Yay! You controlled your humor. And?
The whole purpose is to let God control us, because what we think is control isn't what he thinks is control. (And back to Jonah for a biblical example with a lot of humor in that story. Also probably one of the reasons it's my favorite OT book. lol)
Here's the thing though, Sis Pilgrim ~ The Lord said unless we're like children, we can't fully realize His kingdom. Children laugh with abandon! And where Jesus is, there is joy overflowing!
I wouldn't worry about how the Lord wants us to perform. When we know real fellowship with Christ, when we realize we are genuinely IN Christ, there's no fear of disappointing Him. Jesus is truly love alive in us. There's no fear at all in Him.
I do understand about becoming as little children, which is to be without malice
1 Cr 14:20 Brethren, be not children in understanding:
howbeit in malice be ye children, but in understanding be men.
Children aren't malicious when they laugh, but maybe those who are considered a tad more serious just pick up maliciousness in other peoples sense of humor (or jesting) we are to put off.
Ye are to become little children (without malice)
We are to put off jesting (which often consists of being malicious)
But I dont equate a three stooge kind of humor with the joy of the Holy Ghost though, there is the laughter of fools, which is likened more to the crackling of thorns under a pot.
Babies may belly giggle over sneezes, and funny noises things they first see which striken them as funny (without malice being in them) whereas the adults (quite unlike them) are malicious and hateful in their humor.
Children learn that, and grow up to do that, whereas adults need to unlearn that and become children without malice.
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ladylynn
Guest
Did you read my posts? They said course jesting is always wrong and laughing at someone elses expense is always wrong. That kind of junk humor is not something any Christian should take part in.
There are many things that were not written in the Bible because they couldn't be allll contained. But Jesus said He tells us these things that our joy would be full like HIS JOY is full. He was a perfect man and He for sure must have laughed ALOT. There is no doubt in my mind about that. It was for the JOY that was set before Him He went to the cross despising the shame etc... but He went none the less for the Joy that was set before Him for us and our redemption. I'm amazed that He would get joy from doing this for us but He did and He does.
When He said He wanted our joy to be full like His., I'm sure He did not say that to His desciples with a solemn and serious stoic face. Wouldn't that be funny!!?? Stone faced serious smile-less - Jesus face -telling them about the JOY that He has is that same joy He wants for them...
I'm sure He was smiling and His joy was contagious. In the posts I wrote there was no encouragement for course jesting or laughing at anyone's expense. But to laugh at the funny things in life like forinstance all the animals and the antics of our kids. It's all a wonderful thing. I never liked the Three Stooges but some people love that kind of stuff., maybe I didn't give it a good enough try?
There is a time to laugh and a time to cry but I find the Joy of the Lord is our strength and many times finding the humor in life has made the load much easier to carry. And I do believe God meant us to have that on purpose.
There is also a time to be sober., vigilant for your adversary the devil walks about like a roaring lion seeking whom he may devour.... I take that to mean be aware of it and take precaution but don't walk around unhappy and fearful. But thankful that Jesus already defeated him. That will make us un-devour-able because we took that Word to heart and prepared by having faith in Jesus finished work.
And it's also amazing that God made us all different and some of us laugh more than others and some prefer to not laugh as much as others. Both are fine because He made us that way.
But I prefer to hang out on a regular basis with the ones who laugh more.
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Hmmm...I just dunnnnnnoooo....
[video=youtube;L49VXZwfup8]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=L49VXZwfup8[/video]
[video=youtube;L49VXZwfup8]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=L49VXZwfup8[/video]
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ladylynn
Guest
Hmmm...I just dunnnnnnoooo....
[video=youtube;L49VXZwfup8]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=L49VXZwfup8[/video]
Exactly!! God MADE THAT!!! LOL Those little sweeties have so much fresh happiness that a person just can't help but sense God in them. Sort of like the ocean. You just know God is all about beauty when you look at the ocean! Thanks for posting that Test_f_i_2_luv It was adorable!!!
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Depleted
Guest
God's sense of humor in the last 16 weeks.
He gave my husband a small heart attack, and then gave him everything he needed online to get my husband to believe it was a strange form of indigestion or heartburn.
Didn't let him lie down without it causing more and more pain for four days to the point where if he laid down he couldn't breath and if he ate anything, it made it worse.
Got him the wisdom to go to the hospital during a massive heart attack.
Let me hear a doctor tell him, "You're dying. You need to go on a ventilator."
Had him go to a hair's breadth of dying and held him there. And, because of my back, I couldn't stay with him.
When two EMTs took him from one hospital to another three blocks away, the EMTs were sure he would die.
Three stents put in him and then off to the 35-room cardiac ICU plugged into an EKMO (four garden-size hoses pumping his blood, and the hoses were clear, so I always saw his blood in the tubes to oxygenate it and the return it back into his body) to wait for him to stabilize enough to find out the damage and put all six foot one of him in a six-foot bed that slid down while he was sedated.
Gave him pneumonia.
When he started recovering him from that, then he gave him an infection. A 40 count means the white blood cell count is so high, the infection would probably kill him. The doctor told me he had a 46 and was the patient in the worst condition of anyone in his cardiac ICU. The might hubby almost died, he had a 10%-15% chance of surviving that night. With that infection he only had a 50% chance of surviving.
When that infection started to break, his kidneys shut down, although the doctors didn't tell me that. They told me he was urinating fine but he wasn't filtering waste properly, so needed to be on dialysis 24/7 until the kidneys worked again. (Only later did I find out that meant "if they'd function again.") The first day I ran into his urologist, who told me his kidneys were good. The next day, he told me they had plateaued. I was silly enough to think that meant they were back to where they should be. The next day he told me they were working fine again and they'd take him off the dialysis. No idea what "good" was.
I felt a crack in one of my molars. I'd have to see a dentist when I had a chance. The next day one-fourth of my molar was gone. I suspect I swallowed it.
Two things cause my bad back to hurt more -- sitting in no-support chairs and walking or standing. Hubby is staying in the furthest unit from the hospital entrance and getting any chair in the room is a daily hunt.
John needs blood and doctors don't know where he is bleeding from.
Our humidifier didn't work, I'm mechanical, but I tried to fix it in those brief moments. It worked for two weeks and then stopped working again. Wasted those brief moments. John's really into humidity in winter, so that's my first failure keeping the home front running smoothly.
Dad has dementia and took to hoarding. My messiest brother volunteers to come up to try to clean Dad's house out because he lost his job so has the time to do that. Dad hates people doing his housework and has no idea he's not doing it. He also has no idea he's not bathing or eating. He is, however, drinking. Beer is the only thing giving him calories.
Ventilator humor -- The hospital starts telling me they'll remove John's ventilator soon. Little did I know "soon" meant over a month later, and they did it so violently -- not worrying about if John could breathe because there ultimate goal is to get him back to the VA hospital -- that John gasped for eight hours before they declared it an emergency and put it back in while he was awake. Adding to the humor, he cannot drink anything or eat while on a ventilator.
Give him a blood clot in his leg and make sure I wake up too dizzy to go visit him.
A blood clot wasn't enough, so give him A-fib for a day. His heart spiked to 120-170 beats per minute, if one can count a minute. It was so erratic; the heart monitor kept changing how many beats per minute to every beat. Doctors finally gave him something to relax that after ten hours.
The toaster oven stopped working at home.
John's fever spikes to 103.
I notice his hands are beginning to curl up and there is a bruise under his elbow. Is he getting a bedsore?
Our Eagles (one of the worst American football teams) beat the Patriots (one of the best teams.)
Doctors start talking open-heart surgery in 2-3 days, but they meant in two weeks. They didn't even find out what damage was done until a day or two before the surgery. He blew out his microvalve and some of the muscle that holds it in place. I don't find out the ripped muscle is attached to that valve until after the surgery.
My older brother ends up not coming to help Dad because my oldest brother needs to become Dad's legal guardian to make decisions for Dad. Dad is served the papers for the hearing and freaks. He calls all his kids in circle. In one day my younger brother was called four times, I was called 11 times, the last time at 1 AM, and my sister was called the most. When Dad called, I told him about hubby, but he only worrief about being taken out of his house. My oldest brother had contractors come I to repair a leak and then clean up $10,000 worth of black mold, but Dad insisted he can take care of himself and he'd rather die than leave his house. According to Dad, the oldest brother is a creep. Dad is the one who asked oldest brother to take care of him if he's ever unable to take care of himself. At 1 AM, I tell Dad this is his 11th phone call today, it's 1 AM, so don't call again. The next day it takes four phone calls to get through that he can't keep calling me. My heart breaks each time.
Hubby got his open heart surgery, the hospital then screwed around getting him ready to be transferred back, couldn't keep their stories straight, was force by the hospital they transferred him to remove a couple of infected teeth, but then removed all of them and screwed up the surgery because they never told the anesthetist it was a go, refused to let him even sip water, even though I found out later you can eat and drink while on a vent (and then while on a catheter), screwed up on the date he was transferred so much that he was transferred the next day, which also happened to be the day a woman supposedly fell on my sidewalk and set in motion a lawsuit, which also happened to be the day my brother took Dad to court, was found in competent, but then my brother still had no powers as Dad's guardian but the judge convinced Dad to volunteer for rehab, although he never get rehab, since he was still being evaluated in a hospital and it was discovered he wasn't getting the DTs when sobering up, was then sent to an assisted living home, while hubby was being weaned off the vent in a mere two days at the original hospital, and finally could drink water and suck on ice chips, then the car started making a creepy sound and shifted to the side on hairpin turns, the type of turns only sued when parking in tight spots at a garage -- like a hospital garage, the only place to park to visit hubby -- and it will cost $1500+ to fix that, my TENS unit for my back gave out after 16 years, only to be replaced with a unit that worked a grand total of three weeks, only to replace it with a unit that worked one night, it's 130 days since my husband has had anything with a taste in his mouth, but he can't do that until he can sit for half an hour, and he can't sit for half an hour because they have to debreve his Stage IV bed wound on his butt, so he can't sit, and he's been promised rehab for so long I no longer believe them.
Frankly, I'm tired of God's sense of humor. It's literally too painful.
He gave my husband a small heart attack, and then gave him everything he needed online to get my husband to believe it was a strange form of indigestion or heartburn.
Didn't let him lie down without it causing more and more pain for four days to the point where if he laid down he couldn't breath and if he ate anything, it made it worse.
Got him the wisdom to go to the hospital during a massive heart attack.
Let me hear a doctor tell him, "You're dying. You need to go on a ventilator."
Had him go to a hair's breadth of dying and held him there. And, because of my back, I couldn't stay with him.
When two EMTs took him from one hospital to another three blocks away, the EMTs were sure he would die.
Three stents put in him and then off to the 35-room cardiac ICU plugged into an EKMO (four garden-size hoses pumping his blood, and the hoses were clear, so I always saw his blood in the tubes to oxygenate it and the return it back into his body) to wait for him to stabilize enough to find out the damage and put all six foot one of him in a six-foot bed that slid down while he was sedated.
Gave him pneumonia.
When he started recovering him from that, then he gave him an infection. A 40 count means the white blood cell count is so high, the infection would probably kill him. The doctor told me he had a 46 and was the patient in the worst condition of anyone in his cardiac ICU. The might hubby almost died, he had a 10%-15% chance of surviving that night. With that infection he only had a 50% chance of surviving.
When that infection started to break, his kidneys shut down, although the doctors didn't tell me that. They told me he was urinating fine but he wasn't filtering waste properly, so needed to be on dialysis 24/7 until the kidneys worked again. (Only later did I find out that meant "if they'd function again.") The first day I ran into his urologist, who told me his kidneys were good. The next day, he told me they had plateaued. I was silly enough to think that meant they were back to where they should be. The next day he told me they were working fine again and they'd take him off the dialysis. No idea what "good" was.
I felt a crack in one of my molars. I'd have to see a dentist when I had a chance. The next day one-fourth of my molar was gone. I suspect I swallowed it.
Two things cause my bad back to hurt more -- sitting in no-support chairs and walking or standing. Hubby is staying in the furthest unit from the hospital entrance and getting any chair in the room is a daily hunt.
John needs blood and doctors don't know where he is bleeding from.
Our humidifier didn't work, I'm mechanical, but I tried to fix it in those brief moments. It worked for two weeks and then stopped working again. Wasted those brief moments. John's really into humidity in winter, so that's my first failure keeping the home front running smoothly.
Dad has dementia and took to hoarding. My messiest brother volunteers to come up to try to clean Dad's house out because he lost his job so has the time to do that. Dad hates people doing his housework and has no idea he's not doing it. He also has no idea he's not bathing or eating. He is, however, drinking. Beer is the only thing giving him calories.
Ventilator humor -- The hospital starts telling me they'll remove John's ventilator soon. Little did I know "soon" meant over a month later, and they did it so violently -- not worrying about if John could breathe because there ultimate goal is to get him back to the VA hospital -- that John gasped for eight hours before they declared it an emergency and put it back in while he was awake. Adding to the humor, he cannot drink anything or eat while on a ventilator.
Give him a blood clot in his leg and make sure I wake up too dizzy to go visit him.
A blood clot wasn't enough, so give him A-fib for a day. His heart spiked to 120-170 beats per minute, if one can count a minute. It was so erratic; the heart monitor kept changing how many beats per minute to every beat. Doctors finally gave him something to relax that after ten hours.
The toaster oven stopped working at home.
John's fever spikes to 103.
I notice his hands are beginning to curl up and there is a bruise under his elbow. Is he getting a bedsore?
Our Eagles (one of the worst American football teams) beat the Patriots (one of the best teams.)
Doctors start talking open-heart surgery in 2-3 days, but they meant in two weeks. They didn't even find out what damage was done until a day or two before the surgery. He blew out his microvalve and some of the muscle that holds it in place. I don't find out the ripped muscle is attached to that valve until after the surgery.
My older brother ends up not coming to help Dad because my oldest brother needs to become Dad's legal guardian to make decisions for Dad. Dad is served the papers for the hearing and freaks. He calls all his kids in circle. In one day my younger brother was called four times, I was called 11 times, the last time at 1 AM, and my sister was called the most. When Dad called, I told him about hubby, but he only worrief about being taken out of his house. My oldest brother had contractors come I to repair a leak and then clean up $10,000 worth of black mold, but Dad insisted he can take care of himself and he'd rather die than leave his house. According to Dad, the oldest brother is a creep. Dad is the one who asked oldest brother to take care of him if he's ever unable to take care of himself. At 1 AM, I tell Dad this is his 11th phone call today, it's 1 AM, so don't call again. The next day it takes four phone calls to get through that he can't keep calling me. My heart breaks each time.
Hubby got his open heart surgery, the hospital then screwed around getting him ready to be transferred back, couldn't keep their stories straight, was force by the hospital they transferred him to remove a couple of infected teeth, but then removed all of them and screwed up the surgery because they never told the anesthetist it was a go, refused to let him even sip water, even though I found out later you can eat and drink while on a vent (and then while on a catheter), screwed up on the date he was transferred so much that he was transferred the next day, which also happened to be the day a woman supposedly fell on my sidewalk and set in motion a lawsuit, which also happened to be the day my brother took Dad to court, was found in competent, but then my brother still had no powers as Dad's guardian but the judge convinced Dad to volunteer for rehab, although he never get rehab, since he was still being evaluated in a hospital and it was discovered he wasn't getting the DTs when sobering up, was then sent to an assisted living home, while hubby was being weaned off the vent in a mere two days at the original hospital, and finally could drink water and suck on ice chips, then the car started making a creepy sound and shifted to the side on hairpin turns, the type of turns only sued when parking in tight spots at a garage -- like a hospital garage, the only place to park to visit hubby -- and it will cost $1500+ to fix that, my TENS unit for my back gave out after 16 years, only to be replaced with a unit that worked a grand total of three weeks, only to replace it with a unit that worked one night, it's 130 days since my husband has had anything with a taste in his mouth, but he can't do that until he can sit for half an hour, and he can't sit for half an hour because they have to debreve his Stage IV bed wound on his butt, so he can't sit, and he's been promised rehab for so long I no longer believe them.
Frankly, I'm tired of God's sense of humor. It's literally too painful.