I used to be a runner jogger. (Oh, how I miss jogging! Blast those bulging discs!)

But I should confess that I never, no never, no never did hills.

Before I jogged, I did aerobics. (Yes, I was a fit college student. Actually, truth be told, jogging was a way to deal with an obsession with my weight, but that’s a post for another day.) The daily aerobics routine included muscle strength exercises; I always left before it started. (Even now, I only do weight training because of the aforementioned bulging discs.)

My mantra was: “I don’t do pain.”

I’ve realized lately that, in many ways, this has been my mantra for life. Consequently, I have often caused myself more pain by trying too hard to keep my existence as perfect and pain-free as possible. I’ll fret and worry about the possibility of someone getting sick before an important event. I’ll read a blog or hear about someone’s horrible trial and think, “I could never go through that!” And so on.

A recent experience has made me realize how damaging this controlling, perfectionistic approach to life has been for me. My fear of and resistance to pain has created a burden all its own.

My chronic health issues have included a weird, clogged ear (like I just got off a plane and need to yawn) that has lasted for years, accompanied by dizziness and headaches and other frustrating stuff.

One day in January, my boat was rocked when on top of major issues with my sleep (which exacerbate my health problems) my other ear went wonky. I sensed a loud humming, like a motor, inside my head. One day of that was enough to make me feel like I would lose it, especially because I was already feeling at my limits with my health struggles.

By the end of the day, all I could do was bury my head in my husband’s shoulder and sob. And, of course, pray.

Please. I can’t do this! I need some relief.

The next morning, I woke up, and with deep gratitude in my heart, realized the tinnitus was gone.

But it came back.

And it keeps coming back.

I have realized that I have two choices. I can fight against this and tell myself I can’t do it, or I can learn to accept it.

With the help of heaven, I am working to do the latter.

And as I write this, I realize that perhaps my prayer was answered, just in a different way. I am finding relief from the heavy burden of thinking my life should be as pain-free as possible (and/or that if it isn’t, I must be doing something wrong). I am finding strength to face my trials with more faith. And I am finding, once again, that faith isn’t always about removing afflictions. Sometimes it’s about turning to God in a way that enables me to endure my afflictions with more grace and patience.

Elder Wirthlin recently taught: “I know why there must be opposition in all things. Adversity, if handled correctly, can be a blessing in our lives. We can learn to love it.” (See also Paul’s words.)

I don’t love my trials yet, but I’m learning to embrace them a little more, and to try, as they say, to “let go and let God.”

And I am feeling better.

What has helped you find God’s strength in times of difficulty? How have you learned to accept the opposition that is part of mortality?