​My doctor has ordered me to take time to rest. Sounds easy enough, doesn’t it? After all, I am tired. How difficult would it be to lie down and rest?
 
Actually, it’s tougher than I thought.
 
You see, I’ve got places to go and people to see. I have stories to write. Groceries to buy. Dinner to make. Articles to edit. Laundry to fold. Kids to drive to piano and volleyball and school and the orthodontist. Okay, you get my point.
 
I can’t just sleep my days away. As my YouTube-watching teenagers would say, “‘Ain’t nobody got time for that!”
 
But I have only one problem. As Laura Ingalls would say, “I am plumb tuckered out.” As much as I’d like to push through the fatigue, I just can’t do it.
 
So I am learning to rest.
 
This means swallowing my pride and asking for help when I need it. It also means delegating more to my kids. And learning to let things go.
 
Lately I’ve realized, while my body needs rest, my mind needs it too. Let’s just say I’m not so good at that either.
 
I’ve had nights of lying awake while my mind races, trying to figure it all out. I toss and turn, developing a plan. If one of my girls has a problem, I need to fix it. Moms like to fix things. I’m always thinking, planning and fixing.
 
But I need a rest from my fears and anxieties. This means handing it over to God. The decisions I need to make. The questions I have about the future. The challenges I face today. Because honestly, I can’t carry that weight any more. I’m too tired. It’s too heavy.
 
So when something unexpected happens (like an MS diagnosis) I don’t have to over-think the situation. I don’t need to find a solution. I can have peace because I’m following my Doctor’s orders. And let's face it; I’ve got a Great Physician.

I am not a fan of self-promotion, but I do like to encourage others with my writing. If you know someone who might be encouraged by my blog post today, would you mind sharing it? You can check out my writer facebook page and share it from there. Thank you! www.facebook.com/SheriZeckWrites

Have you ever heard of the children’s book called, Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day?
 
Well, last Sunday I had one of those days. I don’t know what I did to deserve it. Maybe I stayed up too late Saturday night. Maybe I shouldn’t have eaten pizza. Whatever it was, I woke up Sunday morning with my head throbbing and my back aching. I felt tired and weak. I decided to stay home from church.
 
Later, when Curt and the girls returned home, they gave me several sweet messages from people at church.
 
“Tell Sheri I’m thinking about her.”
 
“Let your mom know I’ll be praying for her.”
 
I appreciated their thoughts and prayers. Ever since I was diagnosed with MS, I’ve had so much support from my friends.   
 
Later that afternoon Curt took Taylor to a function at school. While there, he ran into a neighbor / friend of ours, who had heard about my diagnosis.
 
I always find it amusing, how differently men and women communicate. Especially when it comes to showing compassion.  
 
“I heard about Sheri,” our neighbor said. Then he made a fist and punched Curt’s arm. “That really sucks, man.”
 
As Curt recounted the brief encounter, I couldn’t help but smile.
 
Prayers are wonderful. Compassion is nice. But sometimes (like on a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day), “That really sucks,” just hits the spot.

I've always known that looks can be deceiving. But my recent diagnosis of MS has made me living proof.
 
For the past several years I looked fine on the outside. No one knew when I was having a bad day. Friends and family didn’t understand how I felt inside. (I didn’t even fully understand it!)
 
Now I know that I’m in a war.
 
My immune system has mistaken my brain for the enemy and is trying to attack that critically important myelin sheath that surrounds my nerves.
 
Okay, I’ll just say it. I’ve been getting on my own nerves. Literally.
 
Unless you happen to see me trip while I’m walking through the mall, there’s really no visible symptoms. Yes, there’s scar tissue on my brain, but only my neurologist will see those unflattering photos.
 
I’m in a battle with my worst enemy: myself.  
 
The more I ponder this thought, the more I’m convinced that I’m really no different from anyone else.
 
At one time or another, everyone faces battles that others can’t see. For example, people are fighting … 

• Fear
• Anxiety
• Self-defeating thoughts
• Anger or unforgiveness towards yourself or others
• Grief
• Shame
• Regret

 
People are walking through life, battling the disabling effects of what’s going on between their ears. Just. Like. Me.
 
Are you also fighting a battle? Let’s grab the most powerful weapon we’ve got: prayer.
 
You, my blog readers, have given me so much support as I’ve shared my diagnosis over these past couple of weeks. I’d like to do the same for you. Are facing an invisible fight? Let me know how I can pray for you. 

​"Be kind, for everyone you meet is facing a battle you know nothing about." - Wendy Mass

I think it's important to educate others about the signs and symptoms of MS. I personally went through several frustrating years before finally getting diagnosed. Hopefully I can help someone else through sharing my story. This week I wrote a shorter version of my experience for the Quad City Moms Blog. Feel free to check it out "A Walk in My Shoes: Facing a Diagnosis of MS"