by Lisa Rector
Last night my restless leg syndrome was so bad that my left arm was also antsy. Anyone who suffers from RLS knows that the unstoppable desire to move your legs and arms is neither pleasant nor to be ignored. My legs thrashed on my sheets, and my arm ached with ferocity so much so that I jumped out of bed in the middle of the night and started dancing around my bedroom, trying to give my legs and arm the relief they sought.
I felt as if I had ants marching one-by-one, up and down, inside my veins. The feeling was more unpleasant than you could imagine. I also wondered what I had done wrong with my day that resulted in such an attack. Did I sit too long because of the epic board game I played with my children, or did I eat too much sugar because my daughters insisted on eating s’mores before bedtime and I had already indulged in sweets earlier in the day?
I eventually exhausted my spastic limbs enough so that I could sleep, but vowed, as I drifted off, to take better care of my body. Starting with exercise the next day.
The following morning, after being prompted by the Spirit to rise early, after breakfast and an hour of scripture study, I put in a 10 minute DVD of body sculpting. I became so weary and my hips throbbed so horribly after my work out that I crumbled in tears. (This after I learned my daughter left my flexible, rice ice pack out of the freezer last night, so I didn’t have it to apply to my hips.) I choked down a protein bar while pulling out my church magazine; I could think of nothing else to do in my run-down state.
As I read I prayed. I couldn’t deal with my hip pain anymore. I couldn’t deal with the weakness in my body anymore. I was sick and tired of being sick and tired. I poured out my sorrows to my Father in Heaven.
And of course, the words from one of God’s chosen spoke to me and comforted me.
Even the Savior asked for relief as He suffered in the Garden of Gethsemane. “If it be possible, let this cup pass from me. Nevertheless not as I will, but as thou wilt.”
It is okay to ask for relief (even if the relief doesn’t come) and then submit to God’s will (whether we are healed).
The Spirit also whispered that though I ask for relief, I must do all in my power to take care of myself. Which I had vowed to do the night before, which I had vowed in the past. But I needed to revamp my efforts because I was failing.
I also learned that I could still receive spiritual refinement despite my suffering, and because of my suffering—because it will humble me and draw me closer to the Lord.
I even had a crazy thought that I would still carry on through my suffering. An image of me crawling to the dishwasher to unload the dishes came to my mind. As odd as that seemed, it gave me comfort to know that I wouldn’t give up, and I knew that God would help me do the seemingly impossible.
And I could ask for help as I needed; I don’t have to struggle on my own.
I haven’t been able to write steadily because of my declining health, but I haven’t completely given up. I do what I can. I know God knows me and my struggles. He doesn’t have to prove these things, but He shows me daily as He answers my prayers and sends peace to my heart.