Tim Eimer: Among the anguish and anxiety grow the promises of God

Dear friends,
It’s Mother’s Day, and I'm sick. What a perfect metaphor for this disease. More than anyone, my wife needs a day of rest, but now, she will need to pick up the slack for my illness because the chemotherapy tore up my insides all night long. Cancer respects no holiday, and honors no one.

I had a rough week. Flu like symptoms descend on me each evening driving me to the toilet again and again and churning my gut into a queasy brew of pain and nausea.

The daily fight against the symptoms weakens me. I feel like I am forced to brawl a bully everyday after school; my strength slips away in a haze of fatigue and lost pounds. discouragement pries open the door to my thoughts allowing fear and anxiety to slink in. When can I feel normal again? What will next week’s scan reveal? What if I am going thorough all this for nothing? Why doesn't God stop all this?

I attended the funeral of friend last week, and between the dozen trips to the bathroom, one statement about his life struck me. This revered man of God wrestled with a fear of death. My own wrestling matches rage on daily. Doubts storm my mind like a barrage of fiery arrows. At times, I doubt God’s existence. (I pray hard for atheists for they have the most wretched faith.) I wonder if God’s grace covers me. Perhaps I have slipped out from under salvation’s covering? Fear of growing tumors, approaching death and eternal damnation hammer away at me daily. How could all this be happening to me? I try to put on the helmet of salvation to block the assault, but it doesn't always work (1 Thessalonians 5:8).

Desperately, I scour the Psalms for reassuring promises, but I find David’s cries of anguish to match my own. His aching prayers echo mine.

• "Lord, please listen, I'm crying for help (Psalm 141:1)."
• "I pour out my complaints; I tell you my troubles. I am overwhelmed. I cry out and plead for God’s mercy (Psalm 142:1-3)."
• "Lord, why do you withdraw from me when I need you most (Psalm 10:1)."
• "Lord, how long will you forget me? (Psalm 13:1)"
• "I am losing hope. I am paralyzed with fear. Listen to my prayer, Oh Lord. Hear my plea (Psalm 143:1-3)." "From the depths of despair, I cry out to you for help (Psalm 130:1)."
• "O Lord, God of my salvation, I have cried out to you day and night. Now hear my prayer (Psalm 88:1-2)."

By my count, forty three psalms begin with a cry for help, a plea for mercy, a call to be rescued. David and the psalmists were well acquainted with my desperate state of mind. But planted among the anguish and anxiety grow the promises of God, towering trees of refuge rising up from the fertile but black soil of suffering, disappointment and fear. I recite those promises as my own.

• I have stilled and quieted myself (Psalm 131:2).
• God, you knit me together in the womb (Psalm 139:13).
• You made me and won't abandon me (Psalm 138:8).
• Before I was born, you laid out every moment of my life (Psalm 139:16).
• You, O God, are behind me, and you go out before me into my future moments of despair (Psalm 139:5).
• You wait for me on the date of my death. I am precious in your thoughts (Psalm 139:17),
• and your thoughts about me outnumber the sand grains of all the world’s beaches (Psalm 139:18).
• You remain close to me because I call upon you honestly (Psalm 145:18).
• The godly crowd around me for you treat me with kindness (Psalm 142:7).
• I remember your great works (Psalm 143:5),
• the glimpses of heaven you sent me, your soothing dreams, the prayers of the saints that lifted me from despair, the startling good medical news, the countless signs you have laid on my path over the past four years. My heart takes confidence in you (Psalm 108:1).
• You keep no record of my sins (Psalm 130:3).
• Your salvation overflows my soul (Psalm 130:7).
• You promise to be my light and salvation (Psalm 27:1).
• I will not be shaken for you are my salvation and rock (Psalm 62:2).
• I love you, Lord, for you hear and answer my prayers (Psalm 116:1).

Just by writing this letter, I feel better, more centered. I'm weak and feeling sick again, but my mind is at rest. Thank you for listening.

God bless,
Tim