You ask to be free from pain, swellings, inflammations, nausea, stress, poor digestion, an unsteady heartbeat, and the weariness that comes from too little sleep. Yet consider whether the root of these troubles lies not only in the body, but in a soul pulled in many directions by earthly cares. For just as the rich man lies awake at night, his mind racing with fears about money, thieves, and informers, so too any worldly anxiety can rob us of the rest God designed for our good. Sleep itself is a gift of our merciful Creator, who knows our frail frame, and He does not wish us to waste the night in restless scheming or fretting over things that pass away. But when the heart is weighed down by the surfeit of worldly desires, even the body rebels, and digestion falters, and the pulse quickens with unnecessary fear.
Why then do you seek health, while you may still invite these cares into your soul? Let us imitate the blessed Paul and Silas, who with backs torn by stripes and feet fast in the stocks, did not beg for ease or a soft bed, but at midnight kept vigil with prayer and hymns, and straightway an earthquake shook the prison and loosed their chains. They did not first demand an end to their pain; they sought the presence of God in their affliction, and found such surpassing joy that even the other prisoners listened in wonder. True deliverance from stress and bodily turmoil begins not with a list of symptoms, but with a spirit made calm by trust in the Lord. When the soul is sober, that is, watchful and free from the drunkenness of vice, it gains mastery over the passions that inflame the body. Anger, envy, greed, and carnal lust all bring their own swellings and internal nausea, a spiritual dropsy that puffs up the heart far worse than any physical edema.
Therefore, rather than fixing your gaze upon each ache and irregular beat, turn first to the great Physician who commands, “Be poor in spirit.” Humble yourself, and learn that he who envies not the rich, who does not nurse resentments or plot revenge, possesses a quiet harbor even in poverty. Such a one sleeps peacefully, his hands pure, his dreams untroubled by monstrous visions, because his heart is not stifled by excess. Do you lie awake at night? Let that vigil become a time of prayer, not of anxious rehearsal of tomorrow’s burdens. Sing in your heart, as the apostles did, and you may find the very foundations of your inner prison shaken, and the bonds of your distress loosened. God often permits these small afflictions, not to crush us, but to draw us from deadly spiritual sleep, the sleep of doing nothing good, of seeing only shadows and phantoms while neglecting eternal realities.
So I do not simply pray that the swelling subside and the stomach settle, though I ask the Lord who made your body to restore its proper order. I pray rather that you be sober and watchful, no longer tossed by the tempest of worldly cares. Commit your whole self to Christ Jesus, and you will discover that many of these physical miseries, bred as they are by a restless heart, will fade. Seek first His kingdom, and the peace that follows will be a better medicine than any earthly remedy. May you learn to say with the saints, “We have suffered nothing like the holy children in the furnace,” and in that humble spirit find your true rest.