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.
