Find Your Comedian
- gskohler

- Sep 4
- 2 min read
Somewhere in the days before I was heading off to college, my dad slipped in a piece of advice so casually I almost missed it. He said, “Geoff… find a girl who makes you laugh.” That was it. No lecture, no elaboration. Just a quiet nudge toward joy. I hung on hard to that good word—and this year, I’ll celebrate fifty years of marriage to the woman who still makes me smile when I see her at a distance, rejoice when I think of her during a day and deeply laugh, often when I need it most.

Laughter has been one of the most healing forces in my life. Not just in the bright seasons, but especially in the dark ones. Years ago, during a stretch of serious depression, I made a simple decision: I would spend the last 10–15 minutes of every day listening to something funny. Stand-up clips, light monologues, talk-show stories, anything that could spark a chuckle. For me it was Graham Norton at first, and now it’s Josh Johnson – it’s still my practice every evening. But way back, by the end of the first week, I was sleeping soundly every night. The laughter didn’t fix anything. But it reminded me I was still alive. And it became salve. Not like a distraction. It was a compass direction. Laughter told my soul that it had worth and that prodded peace.
There’s science behind this, of course—laughter lowers cortisol, boosts immunity, and it relaxes the body. But I think the deeper truth is spiritual. Laughter reconnects us to breath that is a gift, to the absurdity of so much of life, and to the infiltration of grace. It’s a kind of sacrament. Anne Lamott once wrote, “Laughter is carbonated holiness,” and I trust that.
So, here’s my invitation: find your comedian. Not necessarily a professional one—though they help—but the friend, partner, colleague, or child who reliably makes you laugh. Seek them out. Let their presence be a balm. And if you can, find a way into making others laugh yourself. One of the deepest treasures of my life is when I lead someone into a good laugh. Offer levity as a gift. In a world heavy with grief and disruption, remind your soul that laughter is not a distraction. It’s soul care.
In the chaos, while you’re flailing against the political mayhem, the tragedies that are layering into our newsfeeds, loss, devastation, threats and violence… don’t forget the care of your own soul. Find your comedian—even if it’s only for 10 minutes. And may you laugh until your heart finds God’s joy.






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