"Good morning!" the pilot announces. "We'll be landing in Rio in an hour." The young man next to me stirs. He works for the airlines out of Miami. "I often visit my father and sister and my little nephew," he'd explained the night before. "I love my family and I like to help them."
Now, as he wakes, he winces, and asks: "Do you have a headache pill? I have the most terrible headache!" I tell him that because I rely on spirituality for healing, I'm sorry I don't have any pills. He walks over to someone else and is soon back in his seat. We eat our breakfast silently, both deep in thought.
Then suddenly, he asks earnestly: "But what do you do when you have a headache?" "I pray," I answer, and tell him something about how I pray. That mostly I listen quietly to God, who reminds me that there is some thing higher than individual human effort caring for all people everywhere; that divine Love is all-powerful and present everywhere. Sickness is not God's will for anyone. I can reject it. Prayer lifts my thought to a spiritual level where I can accept health as God's law for me and for everyone.
