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Tim’s Story
Site created on August 29, 2022
Numbering my days in the hope and prayer that they will count. August, 2022
Hello family and friends, both old and new.
Thanks for checking in on our journey. I’m 64 years-old, and have been a follower of Christ (for 48+ years), the husband of Gayline (for 44+ years), a father of six (for 43+ years), a grandfather of fourteen (for 17+ years), a pastor by vocation (for 40+ years), an author of four books (in 8-10 years), an incessant headache sufferer (for 33+ years), and now a diagnosed cancer—fighter (for 8+ months).
I was diagnosed with Stage Four prostate cancer in May, 2022, and have been given a grim prognosis of less than 40 months. It is, according to my doctors, “not your ordinary prostate cancer”; being a “Highly Aggressive” and “High Grade” cancer that—at least according to their professional opinion—will not give me much time to live. God will have something to say about that, of course. But in the meantime we have to deal with what is, and find God in the midst of it all.
When I let my friends know of my cancer through my Facebook page, the response of love and concern was so strong and affecting that it led me to start a very public “Cancer Journal”, which many are now following faithfully. I’m calling the journal: “Thou Art the Potter: Faith Reflections from a Cancer Oven”, based upon the comfort and conviction expressed by an ancient man of God— “But now o LORD, you are our Father. We are the clay, and you are the Potter. We are all the work of your hand” (Isa. 64:8)
My “Thou Art the Potter” journal began as a way of keeping an account of my cancer battle, and of communicating with my congregation (and others) along the way. I’ve wanted to chronicle God’s dealings with me while in the “shadowlands” (to borrow from C.S. Lewis) so that others might see into (and I might look back on), what God has done.
As time has passed many have felt that the Lord was giving me a rare opportunity to offer people an extended view into real human suffering and God’s grace, while inside the furnace.
Here are a few points of interest about my “Thou Art the Potter” journal:
· I have not written or edited this as one would a book. It is a journal that I have been asked to make public as an expression of faith and hope while still in a furnace of affliction.
· No professional (or non-professional) editing/polishing eyes (except my own very non-professional eyes) have previewed this journal, or had any input into what is written.
· I have no author-designed order to this journal other than the order of life as it unfolds in the Providential timing of life, and possibly death.
· I make no effort to remove repetitive elements in this record.
· I have not corrected any errors of dates or medical terms or treatments that I may have inadvertently included, so that the journal will maintain is authentic nature as just that: a journal.
· I have made no effort to make each entry equal in length or form. The entries are what they are, and how they came to me.
· I have written in real time, and so this is best read that way—as in: “What is God saying to Tim today?” Via daily posts (so long as I am able) I am offering real and real-time updates on the hopes and laments of my experience.
· Since written in real time I have no knowledge of the ending. In a way, the journal is a cliff-hanger, with no one, including the writer, knowing how the story is going to turn out.
· My aim in this record is to chronicle my cancer journey as seen through my eyes, my ignorance, my fears, my joys, and my faith—not through anyone else’s eyes whatsoever.
Those following along include many dozens, if not hundreds, if not more, who have decided to join our journey in prayer and care. Thank you so very much. My hope is simply to bless by writing a Cancer Journal that will faithfully chronicle my big “C” (Christ) over little “c’ (cancer) experience—to the glory and praise of his grace.
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With all this in view, I thank you for joining us (or at east checking in). Gayline and I are enduring and thriving because of the grace of God mediated to us through the prayer and care of many. Thank you very much.
And now I recall the words of the famed 17th century pastor-author, John Bunyan:
“[I]f thou do find [in this, even] a parcel of plain, yet sound [and] true… sayings, attribute that to the Lord Jesus, and His gifts and abilities, which He hath bestowed upon such a poor creature as I am... And if thou, being a seeing [discerning] Christian, dost find me coming short, though rightly touching at some things, attribute that either to my brevity, or, if thou wilt, to my weaknesses, for I am full of them both.”
*********************************** Please feel free to comment on posts with encouragements and comforts! Facebook comments have proven a powerful means of grace for Gayline and me in this trying season. Please don't stop them now!
I don’t feel like writing. My head hurts too much and frankly I’m not in the mood.
I slept in late this morning, which is nice. I’ve been doing a lot of sleeping since the three to four day spurt of energy I had late last week. As if my burst of activity drained me all the way to “E” and it’s a slow refill of the tank.
I feel a bit physically cranky this morning, a little tense all over. My headache is pounding, and my body is moving slowly and just feels out of sorts, too. I guess I’ve got good reason to feel poorly and moodily. I have been blasted by a double-barreled disease shot gun, after all.
I’m getting treated for both my bone disease and my for my cancer today. No big deal other than the fact that I’m very tired of both, and I hate all that they have cost me. My diseases have robbed me blind. But they haven’t taken everything.
My blood counts remain good, so praise God for that! And though my diseases have robbed me of much, nothing can take away my Father’s love. That’s just true. Even when I don’t feel it.
But other than that, as I say, I’m not in much of a mood this morning.
But other than that, as I say, I’m not in much of a mood this morning. And I just saw that it's pouring rain as I get ready to head to the doctors. Sigh.
I’ll be back when the sun rises again—which I know it will.
