One night when my son was about sixteen months old, he became hot and congested. Usually I would pray for the child first before calling for help from a practitioner. But this time I felt compelled to ask for metaphysical treatment right away, and so contacted a local practitioner, who began praying for him.
That night he woke twice in convulsions. I held him and spoke truths aloud to him, facts of his oneness with God, and of God's deep love for him, reassuring him (and myself) that all was well. Both times he quieted down quickly and returned to sleep. This happened a third time in the early morning, but instead of putting him back to bed, I took him downstairs, where we rocked and I sang hymns.
I was looking out the windows and singing Hymn 207:
