One afternoon, as I was enjoying a day of research in The Mary Baker Eddy Library in Boston, Massachusetts, I came across a document in which Mrs. Eddy was noted to have instructed her students: “Having no preferences, you can be so absorbed in the divine Truth as not to think of anything else, you would be fed and clothed” (notes by Joshua Bailey, A12065, The Mary Baker Eddy Collection, The Mary Baker Eddy Library).
Until I read those words, I had considered preferences to be a good thing. “After all,” I thought, “they define who I am. My preferences show that I have sophistication and discerning taste. I understand why we need to give up traits such as pride, but there is nothing inherently negative about preferences—or is there?”
I decided to put Mrs. Eddy’s statement into practice. I wrote myself a note: “Divest oneself of preferences.”
There is nothing inherently negative about preferences—or is there?
In the days that followed, I considered what might be gained spiritually by losing personal preferences. Opportunities quickly arose to test the value of such a discipline and gain a better understanding of how “earthly loss is gain” (Maria Louise Baum, Christian Science Hymnal, No. 174).
For several years my daughter had begged for a Chihuahua. My emphatic response time and again was, “That is the one dog that will never cross the threshold of my home!” On the morning of my daughter’s birthday, I called to determine whether the puppy I had selected as a gift was ready for pick-up. It had failed to arrive.
As I was without an alternative plan, I quickly prayed to God for direction and was led to call a woman involved in animal rescue work. She had puppies ready for adoption. Trusting God’s direction, I wasted no time in heading over to see what she had.
When I arrived, there were only two puppies ready to go—both Chihuahuas! One of the puppies looked me boldly in the eye. It was love at first sight. Despite his diminutive size, he seemed to possess the same irrepressible energy my daughter had. It was a match. Picasso provided years of comic relief and companionship. Willingness to shed a preference led to finding the perfect dog for our family.
Soon after, I was confronted with another opportunity. I did not like the culture or game of golf. However, my son had brought home a school flyer announcing a community-based golf program. I surrendered my opinions against golf and asked my son if he was interested. In spite of his strong preference to spend all day in front of the computer, he answered, “Yes!”
After just a few days in the program, he was invited to work as a peer mentor, and he enjoyed a productive summer outdoors and away from the computer.
The next opportunity to shed dearly held preferences is a story of pride and prejudice—pride in my daughter as a skilled basketball player, and a strong prejudice against cheerleading. I was happily anticipating another year of supporting my daughter in the team sports she excelled at, when she announced that she had signed herself up for cheerleading. Learning to expect God’s blessings unfettered by personal preferences, I humbly embraced her new activity and even volunteered to co-coach her squad.
A preference, when based solely on a mortal and material sense of things, tends toward the promotion of the material personality.
In the Bible, James asks us to consider whether we are “partial in [our]selves, and are become judges of evil thoughts” (2:4). James also reminds us that “a double-minded man is unstable in all his ways” (1:8). Willing to divest myself of preferences, I became, in a degree, less partial and gained a single-minded focus on God.
More recently, I became aware of a deep-seated preference that was standing in the way of my being the marriage partner I aspired to be. My opinions around this particular prejudice were more stubborn than those I had held against Chihuahuas, golf, and cheerleading. I preferred to have nothing to do with the game of football.
Here was the problem with that: I married a man who is selfless, attentive, and generous in his care of me, and he wanted to share with me his love of the game. My self-righteous stance against football began to feel very uncomfortable—so I gave it up! By letting go of my prejudices and opinions about a game, I have been blessed. I have found my “own in another’s good” (Mary Baker Eddy, Science and Health with Key to the Scriptures, p. 518). And I am grateful to say that I thoroughly enjoyed watching last season’s play-off games cuddled up with a very happy husband.
I have learned some important lessons. One is that a preference, when based solely on a mortal and material sense of things, tends toward the promotion of the material personality. Since “the material personality is not [God’s] likeness,” I found that harboring a preference can interfere with my commitment to see both myself and others in the likeness of God (Science and Health, p. 544). Also, preferences seem to encourage the self-asserting material personality to listen to something other than God. Clearing away the clutter of personal preferences and opinions has freed me to want less, judge less, and love more.
