Two years ago, after my 29th birthday, I was diagnosed with hypermobility spectrum disorder that is described as the "capability of joints to move beyond normal limits".

Growing up, I've always had physical pain but I thought it was normal so I didn’t think about it much. But about 6 years ago, while I was living in Toronto, my pain started to get worse. When I say pain, I mean constant pain in all my joints all over my body; tingling, numbness, sharp pains in random joints or muscle that it's always a surprise when it comes. For a long time, the doctors couldn’t figure out what the problem was and no medication could relieve it; there was nothing the doctor could do.

That is the worse part—nothing alleviates this pain. Rest doesn't help because when I stop moving my joints, I become very stiff and it takes a while for them to warm up again; sleep doesn't help because I can sleep for 2 hours or 8 hours and I wake up feeling the same. I hate going to bed because I never know how I'm going to wake up, how stiff I will be or how much pain I’ll be in and I find it very difficult to move or walk when I get up in the morning.  

When first diagnosed, I just felt useless and found no purpose. I am a chef by profession but I am also a Jack of all trades—from delicate embroidery to plumbing and laminating floors. I use my hands a lot but my hands are also my biggest pain. When my doctor was helping me figure out the problem, at one point she put me on anti-depressants to help me sleep better and she thought that maybe I was falling into depression. Which I think was somewhat true. I was always upset with everybody, and there were days I just felt numb towards people. I was cold and indifferent, and I was so negative and upset with God. Very upset.

God had called me to be a celibate member of Opus Dei, an institution in the Church whose main mission is to remind people of the universal call to holiness. I have dedicated my life to the domestic responsibilities in the centres of Opus Dei but this made the pain that much harder. I was questioning Him in anger, "Why did you call me to your service and give me such physical pain that hinders me from doing that well? Why am I even in Opus Dei when I can't even work properly and the whole message of Opus Dei is the sanctification of work?" 

And if I’m honest, what I found most difficult to accept is the fact that when people see me, they see a very strong woman who has no physical limitations. Exteriorly, I look very healthy but my body is so weak and it will only just continue to get worse. 

A few months before my official diagnosis, I hit my lowest point. I was ready to give up to the point that I was about to take a whole bottle of extra-strength Tylenol because I was in so much pain that I wanted it to end.

But a voice inside of me was telling me, "I want you here, don't do it." So I asked one of my sisters to hide all the bottles of painkillers but continued to try and hide what was going on from the people I live and work with. I didn't want them to know the battle that I was fighting. 

But I was like a walking volcano. People were never sure when I was going to explode. Even I didn’t know when I was going to explode. My own family in Vancouver didn't even know the struggle that I was having interiorly. My relationship with God was hanging by a thread. I was still praying and going to Mass every day but I felt cold and distant towards God because I didn’t fully understand what He wanted and why He gave me this. I felt abandoned even though I knew His promise of being with me. Every time I went for spiritual direction, the priest and the person I was talking to kept encouraging me to unite myself to the cross of Christ and think of souls. Easier said than done. 

What I realized throughout this whole journey is that physical pain is horrible. No one wants to be in pain. It is easier to victimize ourselves and feel sorry for ourselves. We don't ask for suffering but for some reason, God sends it to us. What I find consoling is God will only send us what we can handle. He won't send us more because He knows what we are capable of. We may think we cannot handle it but that's because we are doing it alone. 

When Jesus said my yoke is easy and my burden is light, He meant this: He came to this earth to suffer for the salvation of all man, that was His main purpose of coming, to redeem us back to God and that we don’t have to suffer alone.

It was during a retreat that I attended at the end of 2019 when things changed. I was talking with the priest and he reminded me the sick are the treasure in Opus Dei. There is a gift of intimacy with God that comes only with suffering. 

A quotation from Mother Teresa comes to mind, "Pain and suffering have come into your life, but remember the pain, sorrow, suffering are but the kiss of Jesus – a sign that you have come so close to Him that He can kiss you.” What an honour it is to be suffering for Christ. Suffering can only have meaning when we unite it with Christ on the cross. I have found that when I lack faith especially when discomfort comes, I am miserable but with faith and God’s grace, I have found meaning in suffering. This redemption of suffering is what makes the Gospel so beautiful.

It took a long time to get to the point I am now but with grace and faith, I can now joke around about it. When I turned 30 I would say "I am 30 going on 75" because of the chronic pain everywhere, or that "I'm a bionic woman" with all the splints I have to wear. 

It took me some time to accept the will of God joyfully and some days are more difficult than others but it is possible to find joy amidst suffering. 

It wasn't until I accepted God’s plan that I found peace with it. It took opening me heart to the hand of God who is very close. It was feeling His loving touch and listening to hear His reminder to me that I don't have to suffer alone. To suffer with Christ is really the only way because you carry the cross for Him like Simon of Cyrene and He also carries it for you. St. Josemaria Escriva, the founder of Opus Dei, has a very beautiful reflection in his book Holy Rosary about the Carrying of the Cross:

"If anyone would follow me... Little friend: we are sad, living the Passion of Our Lord Jesus. —See how lovingly He embraces the Cross. —Learn from Him. —Jesus carries the Cross for you: you... carry it for Jesus. 

But don't drag the Cross... Carry it squarely on your shoulder. Because your Cross, if you carry it so, will not be just any Cross; it will be the Holy Cross. Don't bear your Cross with resignation: resignation is not a generous word. Love the Cross. When you really love it, your Cross will be a Cross, without a Cross. 

And surely you, like Him, will find Mary on the way.