I am convinced this princess didn’t feel the pea under that stack of mattresses because she had some princess spidey skills or keen princess pea detection abilities. She had to have felt it because she had Fibromyalgia.
She wouldn’t have been diagnosed back then because the medical community is just now catching up with what thousands of men and women have been saying for decades—”We hurt!”
I am definitely no princess with fine linens and my bedding and sheets tend to look more like a pack of wolves were fighting for their territory, but when I lay down, I can feel even the tiniest crease in my fitted sheet touch the sides of my leg. My nerve endings scream, “Get away from me pea!” I then have to flatten out all of the wrinkles trying to steal away my good sleep.
It’s pretty ridiculous, really. Sometimes when the pain is at full speed ahead, my sheets can look more like a snake pit rather than a comfortable place to rest my body. A piece of string on my leg can feel like a hot, burning metal wire searing into my skin. Every crack, crevice, and wrinkle now becomes my mortal enemy. If I was on that stack of mattresses, that pea may as well have been a bowling ball.
The one thing I know to be true about Fibromyalgia is that it is just my human cross to bear living on this side of Eden. In the DNA lottery passed down from generation to generation, I hit the screaming in pain, nerve endings on fire disease jackpot. I also know that it won’t last forever. It won’t be my eternity. It won’t define me as a person. And it won’t change my place as a child of God.
We are all dealt a DNA hand of one form or another. What we do with it and how we respond to it is what shapes our lives. I have to admit I didn’t respond very graciously going through the “What in the world is happening to me?” process and most of that time I can honestly say I wasn’t seeking God for help or guidance. I was just plain mad.
It’s been ten years since that diagnosis and many more years before when I knew something wasn’t right, and now I have gained something called perspective. It’s when you crawl out of the soupy mess of your life and look down to see what you were actually swimming in. Through this process I learned I needed God, I can’t blame God for my post Eden DNA, and it’s when trying times hit I need to move closer to Him, not further away. My Fibromyalgia has steered my life in many different directions, and I can actually say in a bizarre way it has helped me. I’m stronger mentally, I’ve learned to humble myself and ask for help, and I rely heavily on my Father to meet my every need. Even though my body dictates what I will accomplish in a day, it won’t ever stop me from doing God’s will.
Our adversities are what make us who we are. Sometimes they also bring us to our knees which may be the only way we are willing to get there. It’s how God got me there, and I wouldn’t trade a day of pain away if it meant going back to the person I was—the person who thought she knew Christ but really didn’t. I’ve been refined through the fire and have many more burning hours to go. How about you?
Have your adversities brought you closer to God or further away?