In Matthew chapter 13 we read the parable of the wheat and the tares. A man planted wheat in his fields, but while he slept, his enemy sowed tares among the wheat. "Tares" refers to darnel grass, a poisonous weed, which, until it comes into ear, is similar in appearance to wheat. So the man awakens to a dilemma, because they can't weed out the tares without also uprooting the wheat.
Anyway, as I was pondering and praying once again for the Lord to differentiate the cancer cells from the healthy cells, the thought came to mind: "Like the wheat and the tares." I guess the man in the parable had what we could call "field cancer." It's a similar dilemma.
As the first "zzzzzps" of radiation treatment began today, another thought came to my mind: "The tares are being burned". I was hopeful and prayerful that this meant that somehow the "tares" were being separated from the "wheat" in my brain, and the tares were being gathered up and burned. It was a good thing.
In fact, today was probably my first, "You know, I just might make it at least a few more years!" kind of day. I have always known that all things are possible with God, but I have also understood that all things are subject to the will of God. Sure, I can have a miraculous recovery, even of this most horrific and deadly cancer - IF it is God's will. If (as my niece put it) I am supposed to go and lead the angel choir for the Second Coming, then I will need to accept a different outcome - still trusting, however, in the goodness of God. So there is faith either way this goes, but the uncertainty of outcome often leaves me with the "will I need any green bananas" question! Today, though, was an optomistic day. It was a green bananas kind of day. A leap of faith onto the fragile path of anticipation. So far nothing broke.