Stepping out onto our semi-wet, sloped driveway from my car, I quite unexpectedly fell, landing with a heavy thump on both of my hands. My lips kissed the slippery macadam, and though they were only slightly scraped, my wrists were badly hurt. I felt somewhat in shock, and my hands were very painful, bruised, and swollen. Back in the quiet of my bedroom, I reached out to my Father-Mother God in prayer. I felt confident that God would lovingly guide and heal me, as He/She had done many times before.
In the Bible, the Apostle Paul says, "For of him, and through him, and to him, are all things: to whom be glory for ever" (Rom. 11:36). To me, this meant that my ability to perform my normal activities had its source in God, Mind, not in me, and that this same Mind would continue to support me in those activities so I could glorify Him/Her. Although I wasn't able to use my hands, I refused to despair. Instead, I continued to pursue my daily activities—which at the time included taking a university-level English class—to the best of my ability.
My husband helped me dress; my daughter and son took turns driving me to school; and with some difficulty, I managed to pick up my backpack on my own and carry it on my back. I didn't miss any of my classes, and even though I couldn't move my hands normally, during the finals I was able to write the required assignments.
