Sometimes I have nothing to write about, and other times a whole raft of ideas floods my mind.

I have just finished reading a fascinating book called "The Emperor of All Maladies: A Biography of Cancer" which is a really accessible and interesting account of the way that cancer treatment, and understanding of this class of diseases, has changed over the last century or so, as well as tracking it back to ancient history.  Using various literary illustrations and quotes along the way, the writer makes frequent note of the 'serendipitous' nature of discoveries or coalition of ideas.  I enjoyed the book greatly, it taught me a lot about the disease and how treatment has evolved (I am mighty glad to have been diagnosed in 2010, not 1980 or even 1990, but people then would probably say the same compared with 1950 or 1900...).  I also found myself spotting little things that made me go 'hmmm'... maybe these were serendipitous too?

Asceptic surgery was first carried out by Joseph Lister a surgeon at what is now called Glasgow Royal Infirmary.  One of his first procedures was a mastectomy performed on his sister.  My surgery took place in that hospital, albeit in a shiny modern building...

George Beatson was a breast surgeon in Glasgow... the hospital where I had chemotherapy was named in his honour...

Tamoxifen was patented three months before I was born...

And so on.  Someone else would read the book and not notice any of these things.  They might notice hospitals they knew (mainly US but the Uk and Europe have been vital in the story) or dates that resonated.  They might not spot any connections whatsoever.  So was it serendiptious or just a bit random?

Several years ago, I was at a Baptist ministers' conference at a well known Christian conference centre.  Other groups were also there.  On the last day, I was carrying a large box of equipment out of the building.  As I reached the door, someone from the other group arrived and opened it for me.  "That was providential" she said.  "Lucky" I thought, knowing that all my Baptist minister friends would use the same term.  So was it luck or providence, or merely coincidence?

Words, so I am told, are how we create meaning.  But the meaning of words, I am also told, is determined in community.  All language is insider language, and word games and word plays are part and parcel of life.  Word plays can include or exclude.  Word games can help or hinder comprehension.  Semantics (in any of its meanings) can be fun or annoying.

Serendipity, chance, luck, providence... these words all seem to be inter-related (I have not looked in a thesaurus but expect they occur as alleged synonyms).  I wonder, too, if they are constructs we make ourselves, correlations we deduce or design, to make some kind of sense of otherwise random and bewildering coincidences?

Or, are they somehow manifestations of an altogether more wonderful and bewildering concept - that of grace?  I offer this suggestion tentatively, because there is a risk of bad theology here, that says somehow me and mine, and our good, are the reason for the coincidence.

I'm not sure, and I don't have the brain power to work it out, but for me there is something intriguing about the coincidences and connections, something that makes me go 'hmmm', something that suggests that 'in all things God works for good.'

I enjoyed the honesty of the book, and though parts were repetitive, it was a good read.  The author seemed to struggle to end it - partly I think because the case study he had followed throughout did not end as he expected.  The reality is we still don't really understand cancer, we still have no cure, we can achieve longer remission (even decades) for some forms whislt others are still fatal within weeks of diagnosis.  But somehow within this grace is active... researchers stumble across new insights, new treatments, new connections... people endure new procedures or new drugs not just for themselves but from a desire that one day a cure will be found. 

If nothing else, the book made me think again about the complexity of language and about the mystery of grace - and that has to be a good thing.