Testings

Yesterday, the neurologist, Dr. Trout (whom I’ll name that after the famous Kilgore Trout, hero of so many Kurt Vonnegut novels) tested me to no end.

On one hand, his tests eliminated the possibility of Parkinson’s being my problem.

That’s good to know.

On the other hand, Dr. Trout’s tests proved conclusively that I need more three more sessions of testings.

I find this prospect grueling because of my aphenphosmphobia. Please look in my blog archives for December 11^th to 14^th, 2006, to read about how much I love being touched!

Don’t worry, I have no intention of turning this journal into a catalogue of my aches and pains unless such things directly relate to my real life but I will just mention medical stuff whenever it’s pertinent.

Like, I get to go to an oncologist tomorrow for still more tests.

I have no doubt that every single person who reads this blog (there were overe 9,000 readers in January) is undergoing some kind of trial, testing, aggravation or problem right now, today.

As the Patriarch Job observed, “Man that is born of woman is few of days and full of troubles”.

Medical tests are not the only kind that beset us.

Being tested is the common lot of man.

But, I hate being tested!

By teachers, by physicians or by God Almighty, I hate being tested. For instance, I cringe at even the thought of being touched.

No wonder my blood pressure always reads high; this stranger comes at me, grabs my arm and locks me into a cuff, then latches onto my wrist while she tightens that cuff.

Can’t fool me.

I’ve read about those women who handcuff men before they bring out the riding crop, clothespins, and black leather outfits.

Of course my blood pressure shoots up!

But enough of such nonsense! My brain knows perfectly well that that nurse means me no harm; it’s my own feelings that are out of whack. So I steel myself to undergo whatever tests are necessary. I just told Dr. Trout about my aversion to being touched and cooperated fully as he handled my arms and legs.

And when he applied a tuning fork to my feet, I hardly shuddered at all.

But on the other hand (yes, I know that’s three hands) getting these medical tests got me to thinking about how the Scripture often mentions testing as being part of life.

Which brings up the question of why God, who is omniscient, tests people?

Doesn’t He, who knows all, know how the test will turn out?

Why does He test us, send us trials and tribulations?

The Apostle James said, “My brethren, count it all joy when ye fall into divers temptations; knowing this, that the trying of your faith worketh patience”.

Note: in the Elizabethan English of the King James Bible the word temptation is often used in the sense of test or trial or trouble

In Peter’s first letter, speaking of salvation, he said, “Wherein ye greatly rejoice, though now for a season, if need be, ye are in heaviness through manifold temptations: that the trial of your faith, being much more precious than of gold that perisheth, though it be tried with fire, might be found unto praise and honor and glory at the appearing of Jesus Christ”.

Why would these apostles think of testing as resulting in joy?

If God does not need proof of our tinsel strength, then why does He stretch us to the breaking point? Test us till we don’t think we can stand it another second?

I think an answer may be found in another ancient book. In Deuteronomy, one of the books Moses wrote, he said:

Thou shalt remember all the way which the LORD thy God led thee these forty years in the wilderness, to humble thee, and to prove thee, to know what was in thine heart …, He humbled thee, and suffered thee to hunger, … that he might make thee know that man doth not live by bread only, but by every word that proceedeth out of the mouth of the LORD doth man live

The test is not for God.

The test is for us.

The tests we go through does not show God naything He did not already know. The test shows us what we are made of. What we can endure. How much God loves and supports us. It proves to us the endless measure of His grace.

I see the situation as being like a swim coach who tests his players to their utter limit then at the end slaps them on the back and says, “There! I knew you could do it! Good job! Well done, thou good and faithful servant!”

No wonder the apostles, who saw things a bit clearer than I do, viewed testing as a portent of approaching joy.

So, we are to endure the vicissitudes of fate and testing with patience because, although we cringe and want to avoid this day’s test, our tests portend great things ahead.

As St. Paul said, “Present your bodies a living sacrifice … that ye may prove what is that good, and acceptable, and perfect will of God”.

Good. Acceptable. Perfect.

But in spite of all that good stuff, this morning I sit here at my computer apprehensive, working myself into an unreasonable tizzy about being touched, wondering what delights that oncologist has in store for me tomorrow.

I sort of wish he’d win Lotto or something and cancel all his appointments.