RICHARD TINKER WITH COLLEEN TINKER
It happened so fast. The doctor who did my biopsy in December was not alarmed, and four weeks flashed by before my follow-up appointment. His words split the air like a lightning bolt: your biopsy was positive for prostate cancer. He suggested I get a second opinion and recommended considering a robotic prostatectomy as an effective treatment.
A week later I sat in front of my computer for a second online appointment, this time with a specialist from City of Hope. This doctor, a leader in the robotic prostatectomy world, confirmed that surgery promised the best outcomes and scheduled me for February 15—the day after the 2021 Former Adventist Conference.
Days raced by, and distracted by preparations for the conference, I felt as if I were on rails. My train was moving, and I could not stop it.
That early Monday morning was dark; I got out of the car and watched Colleen drive away. Covid protocols prohibited her from being in the building, and I was alone. I saw a couple clinging tearfully and kissing each other good-bye before the woman walked into the hospital, and suddenly I realized it was possible I might never see my wife again. Anything could happen.
I sat in a waiting room with three sad-looking women and another man, and it felt surreal knowing each of us was having surgery for cancer. Details seemed larger than life. The waiting room was named for a City of Hope patient who had died, and I randomly heard one nurse behind the counter say to another, “Prostates go home the same day; uteruses stay overnight.”
I was finally walked to the pre-surgical area and prepped for surgery. I wondered if they would find my cancer was worse than they thought once they got inside. Would the lymph nodes be clear? I had never expected I would have cancer. Would I survive the surgery or be that statistic that surprisingly died on the operating table?
Yet something bigger than the unknown held my thoughts: I was not afraid.
Yet something bigger than the unknown held my thoughts: I was not afraid. Even though I might have to deal with cancer in the future—even though I might die—I knew that Jesus was holding me. He was not surprised, and this diagnosis and this surgery were in His will for my life. He would glorify Himself through this. I could trust Him and not be afraid. My days are in His hand, and He will sustain me and give me His work as long as He chooses to use me in this life.
They finally pushed my gurney toward the operating room where the Da Vinci robot would be my intimate companion for the next few hours. As I was guided down the hall, I was conscious that a song was playing in my head that we had just sung the past weekend: “Jesus Strong and Kind” by CityAlight:
Jesus said that if I thirst, I should come to him
No one else can satisfy, I should come to himJesus said If I am weak, I should come to him
No one else can be my strength, I should come to himFor the Lord is good and faithful, He will keep us day and night
We can always run to Jesus, Jesus, strong and kindJesus said that if I fear I should come to him
No one else can be my shield, I should come to himFor the Lord is good and faithful, He will keep us day and night
We can always run to Jesus, Jesus, strong and kindJesus said if I am lost He will come to me
And he showed me on that cross He will come to meFor the Lord is good and faithful, He will keep us day and night
We can always run to Jesus, Jesus, strong and kind
Jesus was with me as I went into surgery, and I knew that no matter what the outcome would be, I was safe. I was His, and He would keep me with His kindness and strength. Nothing could interrupt His care, and nothing could stop His work in my life.
When I woke up, He was still with me.
TRUST BEATS THE FEAR OF DEATH
During the past seven weeks as I’ve recovered, I have pondered the fear of death. During this past year, the fear of death has reshaped the world’s culture. Covid-19 has become our common enemy, and all over the world people have changed their lives. Masks are everywhere; gatherings have been forbidden; people work from home, and churches have been limited or shut down completely.
During the past month I have watched as James Coates was imprisoned in Canada because he kept his church open in recognition of his mandate to shepherd his sheep, and further saddened as the government surrounded his church with two layers of fencing. I have read the statistics of increased depression, suicides, job losses, and fractured social connections—and I know in a new way that there is only one solution to this destruction: trusting Jesus more than the fear of death.
I never expected to have a diagnosis in the middle of this unsettling year that would threaten me face-to-face with death. This was not a general threat; my cancer had my name on it. In fact, this threat superseded Covid and demanded close contact with my surgical team in order to mitigate the danger.
As I faced surgery, the fear of Covid became mere background noise. I had to act on the true danger I faced: the cancer could become a greater threat than the virus, and I had to risk exposure to Covid in order to stop it. Even more, I had to face the fear of death in order to do the right thing.
MY TRUE DANGER IS NOT THE THREAT
I know something now that I did not know so clearly before February 15; when God allows death to threaten me, my true danger is not the threat; it is my temptation to let the fear cripple me.
As a born-again son of God, I have something the world doesn’t have: freedom from the fear of death. Hebrews 2:14, 15 have new meaning for me:
Therefore, since the children share in flesh and blood, He Himself likewise also partook of the same, that through death He might render powerless him who had the power of death, that is, the devil, and might free those who through fear of death were subject to slavery all their lives.
After a year of facing the fear of death from a virus, cancer was just one more thing. The Bible, though, tells us to fear God, not the one who can destroy the body (Mt. 10:28). My cancer was just one more step in experiencing the power of Jesus over the fear of death that used to paralyze me.
There will be more and greater threats to our health and safety as we walk toward the kingdom, but I must stay committed to Jesus and to the work He has given me to do in His body. The people He puts in my life are more important than the fear that they might expose me to illness. I answer to Him, not to the threat of death.
When we trust Jesus, we live in the truth that He crushed death. It can’t take us before it is time, and the One who destroyed death protects us and has numbered our days. I still have moments of fear and doubt, but Jesus’ words, “I will never leave you,” sustain me.
If you have lived in the fear of death this past year I encourage you to trust Jesus even with this. He is good and faithful, strong and kind, and He will calm your heart. †
LINK: “Jesus, Strong and Kind”
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