I have, I think, just one more round of chemo left.
When I go through my pill popping regimen tomorrow morning it will be the last time for this particular round of drugs. Twenty-three rounds, it seems, is enough.
What comes next? We’ll go back to what we did after the surgery. We’ll watch and measure and see if the remaining area grows any once we stop. If it does we’ll probably need to zap it with radiation. That we will eventually have to do something else is likely because mine is a chronic condition, not an acute one.
But that will be then. This is now.
I’m still in a round of chemo and therefore the world is a bit fuzzier than it normally is. As such clarity isn’t necessarily found all that easily.
On the other hand though, there is a clarity that comes with chemo that is invaluable.
It is my monthly reminder of mortality, my monthly reset button that brings me back to the point of remembering what really matters and what really doesn’t and the difference between the two. It is kind of stunning that I need this monthly reminder. You’d think, really, that that brain tumor surgery or the regular checkups would do the trick – and they have and do in their own way. But the chemo is different, it is just more regular.
Not that Jesus really needs anymore affirmation but the older I get the more awed I am by him and by his wisdom.
His parable of the seed and sower couldn’t be more accurate – there is seed that falls on ground that is rocky and ground that is full of weeds. It falls on thin soil and rich soil. All of the seeds bloom but only the one in fertile soil takes hold and produces a bumper crop.
Jesus explained it this way,

The seed is the word of God. Those along the path are the ones who hear, and then the devil comes and takes away the word from their hearts, so that they may not believe and be saved. Those on the rock are the ones who receive the word with joy when they hear it, but they have no root. They believe for a while, but in the time of testing they fall away. The seed that fell among thorns stands for those who hear, but as they go on their way they are choked by life’s worries, riches and pleasures, and they do not mature. But the seed on good soil stands for those with a noble and good heart, who hear the word, retain it, and by persevering produce a crop.

God teaches us lessons – sews seeds – constantly. The question is whether we receive it and whether we really live it.
I pray that the spiritual seeds that he has sewn through these last two years of chemo have fallen in fertile soil and that in the years ahead they will produce a crop of goodness.