Both Avraham and Sarah laughed when they heard the impossible: that a child would be born to them in their old age.
But their laughs were not the same.

Avraham laughed out of joy — out of awe at the greatness of Hashem and the beauty of a promise being fulfilled.
Sarah laughed out of disbelief — it didn’t seem possible.
But later, when Yitzchak was born, she said, “Tzchok asah li Elokim” — “Hashem made laughter for me.”
Her laughter was transformed.
What began in confusion ended in clarity.
What began in doubt ended in faith.
This is not just a story. It’s our story.

We live in an upside-down world — olam hasheker — where what’s true is mocked and what’s false is praised.
Sometimes we laugh because things feel so absurd, so broken, so hopeless.
But there’s another kind of laughter — the laughter of seeing Hashem’s hand behind the scenes.
The laughter of bitachon. The laughter of Geulah.

Rav Hutner explains: “Laughter is the revelation that what seemed contradictory is now understood.”
That’s why the future is filled with laughter.
Tehillim says, “Az yemaleh schok pinu” — “Then our mouths will be filled with laughter.”
Rashi teaches this is the laughter of the final redemption.
The Zohar calls it the sod haGeulah — the inner joy that comes when the truth is finally revealed.

That’s why Rabbi Akiva laughed when he saw foxes at the ruins of the Beit HaMikdash.
The other rabbis cried.
He laughed.
Because he saw the plan.
He saw what was coming next.
He saw Geulah.
And that’s the invitation of bitachon.

When you trust Hashem — really trust — you start to see Him everywhere.
Even in the headlines.
Even in the chaos.
And when you see Him, you smile. Sometimes you even laugh.
Because you know this story is going somewhere good.

The Gemara in Pesachim teaches that in this world, we bless Hashem differently for good (HaTov V’HaMeitiv) and for pain (Dayan HaEmet).
But in the time of Geulah, there will be only one bracha: HaTov V’HaMeitiv — because we’ll finally see that it was all for the good.

Yitzchak’s very name means “he will laugh.”
Every “Yitzchak moment” — when things flip, when the darkness becomes light — is a taste of redemption.
Rav Tzadok HaKohen writes: “The laughter of Yitzchak is the laughter of Geulah — when darkness is revealed to have been light.”

We may start with different kinds of laughter — some like Sarah’s, some like Avraham’s.
But we all have the opportunity to build our emunah and transform our laughter — from confusion to clarity, from doubt to trust, from seeing only chaos to seeing Hashem in everything.

And the more we see Him, the more we naturally laugh like Avraham — because when you truly see Hashem’s hand, the laughter flows on its own.
The Geulah draws closer.
We can already hear it.
We can already taste it.
Soon — very soon — we will all laugh together in the full, joyful, redemptive laughter of Geulah.
And that will be the greatest laugh of all.