FOR ABOUT SIX YEARS, I had been suffering with varying degrees of pain in my legs and hips—at times almost crippling. I was able to appear to function fairly normally and to keep up a brave front, though often I struggled with the pain.
Unfortunately, as a single parent, taking the time to pray consistently for myself about this wasn't a serious priority. I tended to knuckle down and pray when the pain was at its worst—sort of a putting-out-fires kind of prayer—and the pain would dissipate, but I never gained permanent relief. I have such faith in God and know that Christian Science heals, so it's difficult to explain why I continued to procrastinate.
The condition deteriorated badly toward the end of 2004. The pain became so constant and acute that I would put my daughter on the school van and then hobble back to bed (the only place I could find relief). Spending so much time in bed made me feel like a terrible mother, so on top of the pain, I also felt guilty and disgusted with myself. Then one day in November, I just felt worn out from being in pain. I collapsed on the bed and cried out to God, "Help me!" I was particularly distressed because I feared I was losing the battle with self-pity, a quality I despise because I feel it so dishonors God. Oddly, I suddenly had the thought that I needed to see what was on one of the morning news shows. (I never turn on the television during the day.) I followed that intuition and turned on the TV, and I heard someone say, "So you prayed to God and that's how you found the girl?" I froze. Here's the story I heard from the woman being interviewed.
