Okay--I admit it: I cry everyday. How could you not? When you watch your baby seize over and
over, it hurts. It hurts because you are helpless to stop it. It hurts because you see the confusion in
her eyes as they plead, “What’s happening to me? Make it stop.” But more than anything, it hurts
because I see this beautiful child before me--so perfect in proportion with her wild, naturally frosted
hair, her petite nose, her beautiful pink lips, her tiny fingers and toes, her little legs and arms, her sweet
feet and clenched fists, her smooth skin, her slender shoulders and neck, that beating heart, and of
course those gorgeous deep-set eyes.
disease? I guess I think the seizing would make more sense if she at least looked deformed. But when
she is so perfectly beautiful and yet the seizures roll across her body, draining and maiming her, a
heart-wrenching paradox and illusion fills my thoughts. The mirage of potential surrounds my sweet
Addie; yet the drought of her epileptic reality desiccates it. Thus, in the great Sahara of my mind,
the only raindrops present fall from my eyes.
Do the heavens weep for us? How could they not? I imagine our Heavenly parents look down upon us
in much the way I look down upon my Addie. Our heavenly family knows very well our eternal beauty,
our potential, and our pre-mortal power. To watch us shake, convulse, faint, stall, or blank out as we face
mortal challenges is akin to spiritual epilepsy. I’m sure they sorrow for us as they watch us seize in our
mortal journey and especially as we cry out, “What’s happening to me? Make it stop.”
Blessedly, our Heavenly parents know (and we could know if we acknowledged it) the the cause
behind our spiritual epilepsy.
Have you ever been . . .
seized by fear?
seized by lack of confidence?
seized by pride?
seized by anger?
seized by ignorance?
seized by envy?
seized by apathy?
seized by enmity?
seized by darkness?
seized by addiction?
The hopeful thing about spiritual epilepsy is that it is not incurable. The Savior of the world
walked into the Garden of Gethsemane and hung upon Calvary’s cross, willingly taking upon Himself
our spiritual seizures. They pressed upon Him and in His own words:
walked into the Garden of Gethsemane and hung upon Calvary’s cross, willingly taking upon Himself
our spiritual seizures. They pressed upon Him and in His own words:
“ . . . caused myself, even God, the greatest of all, to tremble because of pain, and to
bleed at every pore, and to suffer both body and spirit—and would that I might not drink the
bitter cup, and shrink—Nevertheless, glory be to the Father, and I partook and finished my
preparations unto the children of men” (my emphasis added) (Doctrine & Covenants 19:18-19).
He convulsed and contracted and bled for us that we might be cured. How do we find access tobleed at every pore, and to suffer both body and spirit—and would that I might not drink the
bitter cup, and shrink—Nevertheless, glory be to the Father, and I partook and finished my
preparations unto the children of men” (my emphasis added) (Doctrine & Covenants 19:18-19).
this cure? Jesus Christ answered that as well:
“Wherefore, I command you to repent, and keep the commandments . . . . Therefore I
command you to repent—repent, lest . . . your sufferings be sore—how sore you know not,
how exquisite you know not, yea, how hard to bear you know not. For behold, I, God, have
suffered these things for all, that they might not suffer if they would repent;
But if they would not repent they must suffer even as I . . . .Wherefore, I command you
again to repent, lest I humble you with my almighty power; and that you confess your sins,
lest you suffer these punishments of which I have spoken, of which in the smallest, yea, even
in the least degree you have tasted at the time I withdrew my Spirit”
(Doctrine & Covenants 19:15, 16, 17, 20).
command you to repent—repent, lest . . . your sufferings be sore—how sore you know not,
how exquisite you know not, yea, how hard to bear you know not. For behold, I, God, have
suffered these things for all, that they might not suffer if they would repent;
But if they would not repent they must suffer even as I . . . .Wherefore, I command you
again to repent, lest I humble you with my almighty power; and that you confess your sins,
lest you suffer these punishments of which I have spoken, of which in the smallest, yea, even
in the least degree you have tasted at the time I withdrew my Spirit”
(Doctrine & Covenants 19:15, 16, 17, 20).
Yes--the heavens weep for us . . . but only when we choose to willfully suffer spiritually epilepsy instead of turning to the Great Physician to be healed. Our Heavenly parents are not helpless to help us; but in respect of our agency, they will not intercede unless we ask for help. (You should hear the pitter-patter of feet that come to Addie, on the rare occasions when she cries out. The entire family races to her bedside, hovering, “Is she okay? What does she need?”) How anxious, how ready, how willing our watchful Parents await to bring us healing.
My sweet Addie’s battle with physical epilepsy stands in stark parallel to our very real battle with
spiritual epilepsy. Her lost potential bears a tragic witness to our own lost potential if we fail to
call out to God in repentance. Her incurable seizures serve as an incessant and contrasting
reminder of our curable ones. Let not her suffering be for naught. Let her help you and I
remember that we, with Christ, are never permanently disabled.
