February 2, 2003: Grin

A merry heart does good like a medicine, but a broken spirit dries the bones. (Proverbs 17:22)

Let me recommend a smile.

I never used to smile much when I was young, and people often commented on it. I tell you the truth - several times people actually came up to me and asked me what was wrong, and I'd say, "Nothing, why?" and they'd say, "You look grim." I didn't feel grim, especially, but apparently I looked that way. I’m embarrassed now to look at old photographs and see that not only did I not smile, but sometimes I looked positively ticked off.

People can misinterpret a dour countenance. I remember one time preaching as a guest speaker at a church where my mother was visiting. During the sermon I looked her way and saw that she was glaring at me! For the rest of the message I was trying to figure out what I had said that had bothered her so much. When I asked her about it later, she said no, she liked the sermon, and was shocked to hear that she had looked so upset. Apparently she resolved (with her typical earnestness) to change that, because the next time I preached and looked her way, she plastered on a grin so forced and toothy that I had to look away to keep from laughing. I didn't dare make eye contact with her for the rest of the sermon for fear that she would make that clown face again and I would lose it.

Charles Spurgeon once told a class of grim seminarians, "When you speak of heaven, let your face shine. When you speak of hell, your normal face will do." Take care lest your "normal face," your default expression, be one that reflects the gray misery of hell. Look to God, practice joy, and let your face shine forth the merriment of heaven.