Testimonies of Healing

Many years ago, when I was wading through some seaweed in the water at the beach, my foot was cut just below the ankle—probably by a large broken seashell. There was no convenient place to clean the deep wound that was bleeding profusely, so I wrapped up the foot with my T-shirt and had my girlfriend (now my wife) drive me home.

Last spring, I was due to fly out on a Friday morning to attend my annual Christian Science students’ association meeting. That Monday, when I got out of bed, my back was out of joint.

We read in the Bible that Jesus healed “all manner of sickness and all manner of disease among the people” ( Matthew 4:23 ). The world accepts the suggestion that men and women are complicated material assemblies subject to random intrusions of hostile elements and internal malfunctions that can cause pain and suffering.

Crystal clear blue skies , snowcapped mountains, and the jingling sound of bells—all so evocative of the Swiss Alps! This was day one of my vacation, and I was delighted to be joining a friend for a few days of walking. Although I enjoy getting out into the countryside, I’m not a serious, experienced, or regular hill-walker.

It all started when my four-year-old daughter developed what is commonly known as impetigo, a skin disease that is medically seen as contagious. When the symptoms appeared, I knew that I could not have her attend kindergarten in this condition, so I kept her home.

In the Bible God repeatedly tells us that He will deliver us (see Isaiah 46:4 , for example). The Scriptures are reminding us that God is the creator and the great deliverer.

I used to wonder what I would feel comfortable doing if something catastrophic happened—where would I turn for help and resolution? I was not raised as a Christian Scientist, and I had been well acquainted with other modalities for treatment at times of crisis. Many years ago, I got an answer to my question.

Several years ago, I became aware of a growth on my forehead. I recalled that my mother had had a similar growth in the same place.

On December 24, 1990, I went in for a routine prenatal exam at a clinic attached to our local maternity hospital. Given the volume of births in that part of the world at the time, pregnant women were put on a “team” for prenatal care and were run in and out of these checkups at warp speed.

Years ago I worked as a nanny for a family with a small dog. One Monday afternoon, when I was lifting the dog off a bed, she bit me hard across the bridge of my nose.