I was with family at my brother’s house during the Thanksgiving weekend last year when the following incident occurred. As I stepped into the garage to visit his loving dogs in their dog pen, my shoelaces, which I hadn’t realized were dragging, got caught in the house door after it closed behind me.
When I was a girl, I had an allergy. I couldn’t drink or eat dairy products or I would get a terrible rash.
A number of years ago I had a wonderful healing that resulted from thinking about one of my favorite Bible passages. I was an attorney, running around in high heels and arguing cases in several different courts, when I suddenly found it very difficult to walk because of a painful corn that had developed on the outside of my foot.
When our oldest daughter, Tara, was fifteen months old and not developing normally, my husband and I were told by a neurologist that she had cerebral palsy and traits of autism. An orthopedic surgeon told me he did not think she would ever walk.
Late one afternoon I was crossing the main street in the center of my small town. I saw a car a safe distance away, and I was clearly in view of the vehicle and in the crosswalk, so I expected the car to yield in accordance with state law.
When I was a freshman in college, I began having what were called epileptic seizures. These seizures were severe, and I was taken to a doctor, who diagnosed this medical issue and prescribed medication that would hopefully hold the condition in check, but not cure it.
I’ve been studying and practicing Christian Science since I was 14 years old. My husband knows Christian Science and sometimes turns to it.
As a Christian Scientist, I’ve learned the importance of not only understanding my relationship to Mind, God, as Mind’s exact reflection, but also carrying that understanding with me moment by moment each day, and consciously acknowledging it to be true no matter the evidence to the contrary. Recently I was in my kitchen removing a cast-iron skillet from the hot oven with a potholder.
The first time I heard the words “Christian Science,” I was in tenth grade, and a classmate had just asked me if I would like to attend Christian Science Sunday School with him. I talked with my parents, and they encouraged me to go.
One evening while I was slicing a cold baked potato into a pan of hot oil to fry, there was a sudden loud “pop,” and in the same instant I felt a splatter of hot oil or a particle of potato fly into my right eye. The pain was intense and immediate, and my first thought was “Oh, what have I done to my eye!” At once, though, I checked my thought with a firm “No!”—a word I have used often through the years to contradict whatever untoward thing seemed to happen suddenly.