When you distill it down, life is really nothing but a series of tests. I mean, think about it. From the beginning we are being tested on our likes and dislikes (she doesn't like mashed peas) and our abilities (he can't go through the night without a diaper). We march through the years of school being crammed with information and being constantly tested to see how much we retained, how much we can spit back, how fast and with what clarity.
Social life, too, is a series of tests and testing. Am I accepted? Am I acceptable? Does she like me? Will I make the team? Will I get the part? Will they hire me? Contests are are an integral part of our life. Music festivals. Sports contests. Board games. My grass is greener than your grass. You name it, it's a competition.
What this has to do with testing, or why I repeat it here, are questionable, but I still vividly recall the high school assembly where my boyhood friend, David, stepped to the microphone and, clear as day, called out "testes, testes, one, two, ... three?"
Anyway, Sue's going through about a thousand medical tests this week and all next week to determine if she's progressed enough to have a stem cell transplant next month. She's got "testing, testing, one, two, three, four, five, six, seven ... twenty-five ... sakes alive." Let's hope and pray that she passes these tests, because the ramifications of not being "good enough" are that she has to do more local whamo therapy before she can progress to the stem cell transplant thing in San Francisco. Strange as it may sound, Sue's looking forward to the stem cell transplant. Give's her hope that this whole strange saga may end, and end well.
I have often wondered whether the whole point of life is a grand test of character and allegiance orchestrated and administered by God, the ultimate tester and final judge.