Tim Eimer: God continues to rescue me

Dear Friends,

The next step on my medical journey began in yet another oncology waiting room. With twice as many patients a seats, my wife and I jockeyed for a quiet spot away from the anemic TV in the corner babbling constant CNN chatter. We wedged ourselves between a middle aged couple weighed down by excess gold jewelry and a display rack stuffed with pamphlets decorated with serene scenes that tell me how to cope with chemotherapy and depression. We slouched on the heating vent with a window and fifteen floors of air to our backs.

Like the animals of the ark, pairs of people shamble into the waiting room, a patient accompanied by a loved one. Some are obvious patients, bald heads and wheel chair bound, but you have to guess others. I usually guess right; it’s something about their eyes, and I wonder how many of them peg me as the one with cancer. Like the creatures on the ark, we pile into the room seeking salvation, trying to escape the impending doom.

Time and again, patients’ conversations amaze me. They bicker over the best shade of hair color for their friend Clair and complain about the dollar increase for parking. Frustrated, I want to stand up and shout, “People, we’re staring at the door of eternity here; talk about something of substance!” But I let it pass feeling the double fists of fear and discouragement pressing hard against my chest.

During my entire life, I have fled to the book of Philippians for comfort, but my Bible felt brittle and lifeless in my hands like some outdated geography primer from the1950s. Finally, I pry it open, and providentially start reading Philippians 1:20. Paul lived in eager expectation of doing nothing that would bring shame to the gospel; he chose to honor Christ in both life and death. Well there it is. Regardless of what this doctor tells me, I need to honor Jesus Christ.

I read the entire book and have a sudden urge to scream out its truths to the other patients. Here is Paul in prison (Philippians 1:12-14), awaiting a death sentence just like we are, speaking to us across 2,000 years of broken human history. Billions before us have been in our position; billions more will face it in the decades to come, but Paul desires us to understand what really matters (Philippians 1:10). God wants us to live pure and blameless lives until Christ comes (Philippians 1:10). Our lives on this planet count toward eternity (Philippians 1:22). A regret free life and forgiveness of past sins is ours for the asking (Philippians 3:14). A great prize awaits those who call on the name of Christ (Philippians 3:14,), the end of the race (Philippians 3:14), an eternal citizenship in glory (Philippians 3:20). Jesus Himself will transform these weak, cancer ridden bodies into glorious bodies, brilliant and powerful, just like His own (Philippians 3:21). We have reason to rejoice in every circumstance (Philippians 4:4). Unfortunately, most of the patients I talk to view the cross as foolishness and not the very power of God (1 Corinthians 1:18).

After a three hour wait, I see the doctor. So let me tell you all about the good my God has done for me. My cancer is so rare the medical community does not even have meaningful statistics on it. They just know it’s fatal. But a doctor at Penn stumbled upon a drug that shrinks the tumors of my cancer. She started a trial drug study just a few months after my diagnosis. She is the only doctor in the world with a treatment for my cancer. The doctor wants me in her study, and she believes she can stop the cancer. She is the first doctor to tell me I will live. There are nasty side effects waiting for me, but, for once, none are fatal. God continues to rescue me and show me his unfailing love and goodness (Psalm 13: 5-6).

We are cautious with this news. In the past, good news has been upended, and it dumped disaster all over our lives. I continue to marvel at how little doctors truly know. Like Paul, I need to trust in the power of God rather than human wisdom with this good news as I have with all the bad (1 Corinthians 2:5). God’s weakness is stronger than the greatest strength of modern medicine (1 Corinthians 1:25). Whether I dodge this bullet or not, my body still hurtles headlong toward that day God numbered in eternity past (Psalm 39:4). We are all rushing toward the train wreck called mortality. So living with this good news is the same as living with the bad news. I rise up and thank God for the unfailing love He pours on me each day. And I pray to the One who gives me life (Psalm 42:8)

God bless,

Tim