Last week was Spring Break. So like any mom wanting to escape boredom, I loaded the car with pillow pets, Rainbow Looms, iPads, and three kids and drove a whopping two hours to the big ‘ole city for a week-long friend-cation. “What is a friend-cation?” you ask. A friend-cation occurs when you are too cheap to take a real vacation but know you can’t fool your kids with a staycation. So, you mooch off your out-of-town friends and hope it passes with the kids as a vacation.

On our spring break friend-cation I had planned to hop between three different friends’ homes (didn’t want to wear out my welcome with my three very LOUD children).

When I left town Monday morning I had a low-grade migraine. Nothing I haven’t dealt with before. I popped a prescription pill and assumed it would go away by the time we arrived at our destination. No such luck. The migraine persisted. In fact, it just seemed to get worse. I took another pill at bedtime and prayed for some relief.

On the contrary. The migraine was so painful that it woke me up around 5:30 a.m. Tuesday morning. I silently prayed, “Lord, please make this pain go away. I can’t deal with this much pain today.” I slowly go out of bed, took another pill, and tried to go back to sleep. When I awoke a couple hours later, my worst nightmare came true. The pain had increased.

I put on my happy face, as us moms do, trying to salvage some fun. But as the day wore on it became apparent that we needed to go home. Our spring break would be cut short. My kids would be disappointed. My husband offered to come get us, but I just wanted to get home as soon as possible so I loaded up the kids, drove the two hours back home and immediately crawled into bed where I spent the next two days. Spring break was officially a bust.

Unfortunately, this spring break migraine was nothing new. Migraines have been the thorn in my flesh since I was 10 years old. When I was in my 20’s I suffered a migraine that lasted 24 hours a day for six months straight with no relief. I quit my job and avoided restaurants, movies, and even church because I couldn’t handle noise or bright lights. My physical condition determined every aspect of my life and my young marriage.

As emotionally painful as it was, it also proved to be a spiritual blessing. I was forced to reevaluate my life and get know myself through my Father’s eyes. I came to know my Savior on a deeper level as well.

The experience also taught me a lot about physical pain and why it can be a blessing. So during these times of excruciating, debilitating pain, I remind myself of these five reasons why physical pain can be good for us:

1) It forces us to slow down.     I like to function at 90 mph. I think fast, I talk fast, I work fast. I am quick to act and slow to think. Yet when I am in pain, I am forced to pause, to ponder, and to reflect. When I am in pain I cannot get on the computer, which being a writer is a huge disadvantage. It does, however, force me to mull over an idea before blogging, posting or tweeting it. A little reflection is always good for the soul.

In vain you rise early and stay up late, toiling for food to eat—for he grants sleep to those he loves. (Ps 127:2, NIV)

2) It reminds us that we are not in control.     I admit it—I like to be in charge. I like to lead, I like to make to decisions. I like to plan and execute and get things done. So when I am in pain and down for the count, nothing gets done. And you would think that would drive me nuts, but actually, when I am in so much pain like I was last week, it doesn’t bother me at all. In fact, I feel free. I enjoy letting my husband figure out what to feed the kids for dinner. I appreciate my mother-in-law entertaining the kids all day. I don’t mind that the laundry is not done and the beds are not made. I feel free because I have learned to give myself a free pass. And I remind myself that a free pass every now and then is OK. Because I know that ultimately I am not in control anyway.

We plan the way we want to live,
 but only God makes us able to live it. (Proverbs 16:9, The Message)

3) It helps us to draw nearer to the true Physician.     After my bout with the torrential six-month-migraine, I was fortunate enough to go on a mission trip to Cuba. While there I visited with the pastor of a local church who also suffered from migraines. I asked him what medications he took and he chuckled. “The problem with you Americans,” he said, “is that you rely too much on medication. We don’t have access to medications like you do, so we rely on prayer.”

Ouch. A little less brutal to go with that honesty please. But he did help me realize how little I relied on faith and how much I relied on doctors, medication, treatment plans, and research. While I still rely on modern medicine, I know none of these things work without divine intervention from the one true Physician.

But Jesus said, “Someone touched me; I know that power has gone out from me.” Then the woman, seeing that she could not go unnoticed, came trembling and fell at his feet. In the presence of all the people, she told why she had touched him and how she had been instantly healed. Then he said to her, “Daughter, your faith has healed you. Go in peace.” (Luke 8:46-48, NIV)

4) It reminds us of our own mortality.     We live in a culture searching for the fountain of youth. We like to think we are invincible, capable of defying gravity, age, and even death. We must accept the fact that our bodies have limits. When we reach those limits, it’s OK to surrender. Surrendering to our Creator is not giving up. It is submission. It is not weakness. It is strength.

Our days on earth are like grass; like wildflowers, we bloom and die. The wind blows, and we are gone—
as though we had never been here. (Psalm 103:15-16, NLT)

5) It gives us a longing for heaven.     On days when my pain is at its worst, I long for a new body (or actually just a new head). I long for blood vessels that will not dilate and press on my brain causing a headache. I want to run without getting a headache. I long to jump on the trampoline with my kids without getting a headache. I want to eat chocolate and drink coffee without getting a headache. I want it to rain without knowing I will get a headache. I want to live in a world where pain does not exist, where cancer and MS and Alzheimer’s and ALS does not kill. But I know we are not there. Yet. So I long for heaven. And honestly, if there were no pain, I don’t know that I would.

One of the Elders (to me): Who are these people clothed in white robes, and where have they come from?

John: Sir, surely you know the answer to your own questions.

One of the Elders: These are coming from the time of great suffering and affliction. They have washed their robes in the blood of the Lamb, cleansing them pure white.

Responding out of a heart filled with praise, they congregate before the throne of God
and constantly worship Him day and night in His temple.
The One seated on the throne will always live among them. They will never be hungry or thirsty again. The sun or blazing heat will never scorch them, because the Lamb who stands at the center of the throne is their shepherd and they are His sheep,
and He will lead them to the water of life.
And God will dry every tear from their eyes. (Revelation 7:13-17, The Voice)