One of the most frightening experiences of my life took place during college. I temporarily lost my ability to see when I was hit on the head during practice for the varsity wrestling team, and my eyes stopped functioning normally. No matter where I looked, I couldn't see anything except brightly colored lights and strange geometrical shapes. It was like staring into the sun through a kaleidoscope.
I had wrestled for many years, and had seen many athletes become disoriented, but I had never known of anyone whose vision had been impaired in this way. This made the situation even more frightening.
When my coach noticed that I looked dazed, he asked a teammate to take me to one of the doctors in the training room. I accepted this aid, but felt that I wanted to ask a Christian Science practitioner to pray for me. I was sure that God was still governing everything, even if I couldn't see it. This trust made me feel certain that if I could just conquer my fear, I would be OK. Conquering my fear meant feeling God's presence, and in feeling His presence, I knew I'd become aware of what was true—that I couldn't be subject to injury.
