Some years ago I met a man who had recently found Christian Science and was loving what he was learning. I had grown up with Christian Science, but was at that point rediscovering it for myself. We began writing to each other, sometimes twice a week. The letters were full of seeking, striving, and the joy of sharing the new things we were learning.
After a couple of years of corresponding, my friend suggested that we put our efforts into writing for the Christian Science periodicals instead of writing to each other. Although I had a desire to write for the periodicals, I wasn't so sure I wanted to let go of our correspondence. I felt that our sharings had been impelled and directed by God —evidence of His constant provision of companionship and inspiration. I knew that God was, and always would be, directing each of us in ways that could only bless.
As I prayed about this friendship, I realized that there was some resistance in my thinking to writing for the periodicals. At the heart of the issue was a need for me to be much more willing to listen to and commune with God. I wanted to feel closer to God; wanted to progress in my ability to live and practice Christian Science; wanted to write for the periodicals. But the task seemed daunting, lonely, rigorous. Did I want to work so hard? Would I really be able to be successful in my efforts? Would I ever get to the point where it felt as though God and I were having an intimate, ongoing conversation?
