Dear Friends,
I received the news on January 7 of this year. The two “anomalies” in my lung were cancerous tumors; one small step for cancer; one giant leap toward Tim Eimer’s mortality. A second scan in May revealed the two tumors had doubled in size and three others joined them. This started the medical debate among my doctors. Start radiation treatment in an effort to burn out the cancer in my throat but give the tumors in my lungs months to grow, or start an experimental drug for the lung tumors and run the risk of repeated operations on my throat that could take away my voice and ability to eat. Why not just ask, “Would you like your perishable container (2 Corinthians 4:7) dropped from the deck or merely punted across the dining room?” Pasting on a brave face, I opted to punt and began radiation treatments.
Then I felt the reviving rain of grace and mercy falling from the throne of grace (Hebrews 4:16). At first, it was a gentle pattering on my soul.
My radiation treatments began with little pain. Though many patients I met suffered from several narcotics and the need for personal caretakers, I required the minimum amount of pain killers and continued to work out.
God’s grace deepened into a refreshing summer shower (Isaiah 45:8).
In every corridor and waiting room, God opened up hearts to hear of the marvelous things He was doing for me (Psalm 9:1). I shared with many souls, who were growing weary in their bodies (2 Corinthians 5:2) and groaning beneath the suffering of cancer (Romans 8:23), of the everlasting life waiting to swallow up the pain and fragility of these earthly tents (2 Corinthians 5:4) and carry us to a cancer-free home (2 Corinthians 5:6; Revelations 21:4).
Christ’s mercies opened up into a downpour.
For brief moments, my spirit touched the core reality of Death yanking my body ever closer to the grave, and yet the Spirit washed my soul clean each day renewing my hope and joy (2 Corinthians 4:16). I knew my Redeemer would snatch me from Death’s grasp (Psalm 49:15). I could almost see the mysterious forests, hear the laughter from bright cities, and taste the fresh salt air of the bright beaches waiting for us beneath the enduring throne of righteousness (Colossians 3: 1-2; Hebrews 1:18). Like a bit of driftwood disappearing beyond the ocean’s horizon, my momentary troubles shrank before the brilliance of this immeasurable glory stretching out beyond the vast ages (2 Corinthians 4:17-18).
Then our Lord’s grace slowed to a gentle mist.
His providence planned ten days of holiday in New England with my family, nine perfect days of sunshine and one morning of rain. Thinking I would enjoy a morning cloistered away in the basement of a bookstore on that rainy morning, God guided a gay, Buddhist acquaintance across my path instead. For two hours, I testified to the power of Christ shining out of my dying body (2 Corinthians 4:11), and I invited him to share the hope of our risen Lord (2 Corinthians 4:14). I pray for God’s grace to rain fresh and clean upon this man that he may be numbered among the host of God’s children drawn to Him by the suffering of others (2 Corinthians 4:15).
Despite God’s obvious hand on my life this summer, I woke up every night in our New England cottage paralyzed by fear. Two days after the end of vacation, I trekked back down to the hospital for a chest scan. Completely anxious about how far the cancer had progressed without any treatment, I fully prepared for the worst. My wife informed me last Friday that the scan revealed absolutely no change in the chest tumors. In shock, all I could say as, “Are you certain they got this right?” I’m not out of the woods yet, but this is the first good news we’ve had in many months.
Thank you for the hundreds of prayers on my behalf, and I encourage you to cling to your God and never stop trusting Him (Hebrews 4:14). Without wavering, grasp onto God’s hope and faithfulness to keep His promises (what other choice do we really have?) and place your hope in the resurrection to a better life (Hebrews 10:23).
God bless,
Tim
I received the news on January 7 of this year. The two “anomalies” in my lung were cancerous tumors; one small step for cancer; one giant leap toward Tim Eimer’s mortality. A second scan in May revealed the two tumors had doubled in size and three others joined them. This started the medical debate among my doctors. Start radiation treatment in an effort to burn out the cancer in my throat but give the tumors in my lungs months to grow, or start an experimental drug for the lung tumors and run the risk of repeated operations on my throat that could take away my voice and ability to eat. Why not just ask, “Would you like your perishable container (2 Corinthians 4:7) dropped from the deck or merely punted across the dining room?” Pasting on a brave face, I opted to punt and began radiation treatments.
Then I felt the reviving rain of grace and mercy falling from the throne of grace (Hebrews 4:16). At first, it was a gentle pattering on my soul.
My radiation treatments began with little pain. Though many patients I met suffered from several narcotics and the need for personal caretakers, I required the minimum amount of pain killers and continued to work out.
God’s grace deepened into a refreshing summer shower (Isaiah 45:8).
In every corridor and waiting room, God opened up hearts to hear of the marvelous things He was doing for me (Psalm 9:1). I shared with many souls, who were growing weary in their bodies (2 Corinthians 5:2) and groaning beneath the suffering of cancer (Romans 8:23), of the everlasting life waiting to swallow up the pain and fragility of these earthly tents (2 Corinthians 5:4) and carry us to a cancer-free home (2 Corinthians 5:6; Revelations 21:4).
Christ’s mercies opened up into a downpour.
For brief moments, my spirit touched the core reality of Death yanking my body ever closer to the grave, and yet the Spirit washed my soul clean each day renewing my hope and joy (2 Corinthians 4:16). I knew my Redeemer would snatch me from Death’s grasp (Psalm 49:15). I could almost see the mysterious forests, hear the laughter from bright cities, and taste the fresh salt air of the bright beaches waiting for us beneath the enduring throne of righteousness (Colossians 3: 1-2; Hebrews 1:18). Like a bit of driftwood disappearing beyond the ocean’s horizon, my momentary troubles shrank before the brilliance of this immeasurable glory stretching out beyond the vast ages (2 Corinthians 4:17-18).
Then our Lord’s grace slowed to a gentle mist.
His providence planned ten days of holiday in New England with my family, nine perfect days of sunshine and one morning of rain. Thinking I would enjoy a morning cloistered away in the basement of a bookstore on that rainy morning, God guided a gay, Buddhist acquaintance across my path instead. For two hours, I testified to the power of Christ shining out of my dying body (2 Corinthians 4:11), and I invited him to share the hope of our risen Lord (2 Corinthians 4:14). I pray for God’s grace to rain fresh and clean upon this man that he may be numbered among the host of God’s children drawn to Him by the suffering of others (2 Corinthians 4:15).
Despite God’s obvious hand on my life this summer, I woke up every night in our New England cottage paralyzed by fear. Two days after the end of vacation, I trekked back down to the hospital for a chest scan. Completely anxious about how far the cancer had progressed without any treatment, I fully prepared for the worst. My wife informed me last Friday that the scan revealed absolutely no change in the chest tumors. In shock, all I could say as, “Are you certain they got this right?” I’m not out of the woods yet, but this is the first good news we’ve had in many months.
Thank you for the hundreds of prayers on my behalf, and I encourage you to cling to your God and never stop trusting Him (Hebrews 4:14). Without wavering, grasp onto God’s hope and faithfulness to keep His promises (what other choice do we really have?) and place your hope in the resurrection to a better life (Hebrews 10:23).
God bless,
Tim
