“God is his Father and Mother, guiding him to all good.”

Over the years, we have had some serious challenges to meet with our son—in particular, labels from teachers and friends’ parents related to neurological issues. There has been great progress academically. In middle school he was recommended for special education, after some pretty damning reports by teachers. Instead, we switched school districts, which really helped him turn the corner academically. Now that he is in high school, he is an exceptionally hard worker who earns every bit of his 3.2 GPA.

In spring 2009, we noticed that he was occasionally twitching. Although we began to address this in prayer, the problem seemed to go on for several weeks and to accelerate. At times it would wake him up over and over again, so he couldn’t fall asleep. The twitching was very frightening to me, as it was uncontrollable, increasingly noticeable, and played into his fears that he did not fit in very well with others. I felt stuck in viewing this as a physical problem that could only be healed if I prayed just right—and frankly, given my fear, that seemed pretty unlikely.

After a highly inspiring Association, I returned home to find that the problem was dramatically worse. At first, this seemed almost a personal affront, destroying my perfectly lovely weekend within five minutes of my return! More to the point, it felt like a real slap in the face by mortal mind. I was sorely tempted with the hopeless, cynical view that all that of Association’s inspiration was just “happy thoughts,” idealistic notions that mean little when material reality bears down.

But as I often recall from Class, we must be prepared to deal with often gritty “field conditions,” not ideal “lab conditions.” It was time to put the inspiration to work, moment by moment, refuting each twitch. I disciplined myself to stop looking, measuring, wondering, worrying about the future. I literally did not look at him much for a while, until I knew I could look at him without fear. Instead, I would declare, moment by moment, that he was spiritually created, not physically. And when I saw the twitching, I would denounce it as a lie about my son.

The big lesson I had to learn was that this was not a physical problem. In fact, the shaking was simply a manifestation of fear. And I felt I could deal with fear, even if I felt incapable of dealing with a malfunctioning body or brain. I refuted my son’s (and my) fear of his being different or somehow “wrong.” Gradually, fear—not a malfunctioning brain or body—became the enemy. My fearful thoughts began to be replaced with trust in his spiritual nature, in our mutual power and strength to resist fear.

Gently, each day revealed less and less uncontrolled movement. Within a few weeks it was over and has never returned in the past two years. I often look back to this and a few other healings when I feel discouraged about ongoing problems. The “problem of the day” always seems different and insurmountable. But in moments of clarity, I see that the current problem is just as illusory as those other things that have vanished into their “native nothingness.”

Quick recap of other healings: My son was healed of pink eye in less than two days. Even his biology teacher commented on this quick healing, after she had warned him that he needed to get medical help and that it would still be a week or so before he was better. This experience later paved the way for a great conversation about Christian Science, during which she happily excused him from instruction about disease. He also had quick healings of an injured neck, wrist, and ankle.

Last week he had a wonderful, immediate healing of an intense headache. He was participating in a national dive meet and was worried that he couldn’t compete. He tried—unsuccessfully­—to sleep it off. But after we addressed the sense of pressure he was feeling, he had a quick healing.

His participation in these healings and his growing spiritual understanding is a wonderful thing to watch, although at times it feels as though mortal mind is fighting with him tooth and nail. We’re not being allowed to stay where we were, limiting him, protecting him, trying to create perfect and supportive human conditions for him. We are trying to “loose him and let him go,” to see his complete freedom, not the limited kind we have accepted for so long. God is his Father and Mother, guiding him to all good.