Not gradual recovery, but complete spiritual healing
/Last fall my husband and I were in Maine visiting family. It was a crisp day, so we walked through the woods to a place where the path dropped down to a beautiful view of a rocky inlet. As we were approaching, I slipped on a carpet of acorns and fell, immediately feeling a sharp pain in my leg. I knew I had to reject the thought of an accident before it took root in my thought. I sat where I was for a few minutes, doing my best to see that there could be no moment when I was separated from God, who gives all good, and therefore no moment of accident or pain. My husband sat on the ground beside me, and I know he was praying, too.
Although the pain was severe, I was able to stand. Slowly I walked back to our relative’s house, praying all the way. I reasoned with the Scientific Statement of Being, just striving to feel God’s presence.
When we got back to the house, I called a Christian Science practitioner to pray with me. She immediately pointed me to Mrs. Eddy’s statement about accidents in the textbook: “When an accident happens, you think or exclaim, ‘I am hurt!’ Your thought is more powerful than your words, more powerful than the accident itself, to make the injury real. Now reverse the process.” We talked particularly about the second part of the statement: “Declare that you are not hurt and understand the reason why, and you will find the ensuing good effects to be in exact proportion to your disbelief in physics, and your fidelity to divine metaphysics, confidence in God as All, which the Scriptures declare Him to be” (Science and Health, p. 397:12–22).
It felt very easy to believe in physics: I had fallen; something had happened to my leg. But I truly wanted to be faithful to divine metaphysics, to be confident in God as All, and therefore to see the goodness that an all-loving God would always be unfolding around me. Quite quickly, I found myself losing interest in the physical pain and reasoning spiritually about all the things in my life that I thought were “hurting” me, such as disagreements at my branch church, family drama, and the very divisive political scene. I took refuge in the image of God as the sun and each individual as a ray. The rays never touch or tangle; the only way they ever interact is through God, their source. This line of reasoning about not being “hurt” seemed to provide a healing path. For several days I felt I was making good progress. I was able to walk, although haltingly and still with pain. I was grateful for the progress, so I signed off with the practitioner.
Then I hit a plateau. For the next week or two not much changed, although I was praying daily. At a certain point I seemed to lose courage. I wondered if I should get a diagnosis or maybe physical therapy. Fast on the heels of those aggressive mental suggestions, though, came a true directive from God: Definitely—not maybe—I should be thinking much more about God. Humbly I asked God what more there was to learn.
Mrs. Eddy tells us, “to the material thought all is material, till such thought is rectified by Spirit” (Science and Health, p. 460:12). I saw that I needed to stop gauging my progress by the physical evidence. I deeply desired to put off that material view and learn more about God and my relationship to Her. I knew that if God is defined by the synonyms and I am God’s reflection, I needed to be much more rigorous in aligning myself only with those synonyms.
I had heard a Sentinel Watch podcast in which the guest spoke about the need to follow every “I am” statement with something that is true about God and myself as Her reflection. I made a list and kept refreshing it throughout each day:
Because I reflect Truth, I am confident.
Because I reflect Love, I am patient and gentle.
Because I reflect Mind, I remember everything I need to know at exactly the right moment.
Because I reflect Spirit, I am not distracted by materiality.
Because I reflect Soul, I am beautiful; no adjustments are necessary.
Because I reflect Life, I am energetic and curious, all day.
Because I reflect Principle, I can stick with all of these truths.
Reasoning in this way about my completeness without any personality failings, I could feel my focus shifting. I was full of joy and gratitude. I was giving “thanks to the Lord, for he is good, for his steadfast love endures for ever” (Revised Standard Version, Ps. 136:1). I cannot pinpoint a moment when the physical healing came, but I do remember that one weekend I went into the city for a dance performance and I limped from the train station to the theater; the next weekend, I was hiking in the woods without a single thought of pain.
That healing took place last fall. Since then, there have been no twinges or vestiges of the injury. This was not a gradual recovery such as mortal mind expects; it was a complete spiritual healing. Words cannot express how grateful I am for the learning that is the substance of every healing.