One day in early 2012, my husband noticed our son’s gelding, Vinny, exhibiting behavior that unmistakably indicated serious colic. Colic is often fatal in horses. Seeing Vinny in trouble, I immediately began praying, but I also left the house and started walking him, since the usual first response to aid a horse with colic is to keep it moving.
I had studied Christian Science for many years, but relying on conventional horse-care methods, including veterinarians when required, had always been a normal approach for me. When I was a child, caring for horses was under my dad’s supervision, and he was not a Christian Scientist, so medically based treatment was the standard.
However, before I left the house to walk Vinny, I called a Christian Science practitioner for prayerful treatment. My husband was also praying, as was a friend nearby, who had noticed me walking the horse.
After two hours of walking and praying, the hoped-for signs of relief did not appear. My husband pointed out that since the horse belonged to our son, we needed to consult him about how he wanted to handle the situation. My husband thought that our son would probably want us to call a vet. He did, and after we called a vet, I informed the practitioner of this. She was very loving, saying she would continue to pray with me. She had no doubt whatsoever of a good outcome.
My husband led the horse to a corral to await the vet, and stayed with the horse. I went into the house to focus my thoughts on God and to pray.
By the time the vet arrived, Vinny had collapsed, was unable to rise, and clearly was in great distress. After administering a muscle relaxant to relieve pain as well as another drug to move the intestines, the vet said he had done all he could for the time being, and, “It’s up to St. Jude now.” He and my husband left the corral to phone our son and ask what action he wanted to take. The vet outlined the options as: (1) surgery (which was often unsuccessful), (2) administering heavy doses of painkillers and waiting until morning (which would likely not alleviate the horse’s distress), or (3) euthanizing him. The vet recommended the last one, and our son accepted his advice.
When my husband and the vet returned to the corral minutes later to carry out the decision, Vinny was not where they had left him. He was up and standing at the waterer. The vet was amazed and said he couldn’t believe it. Vinny was able to walk into the barn, where he started to nibble some hay. About an hour later, he was eating normally. And he has had no
aftereffects from this experience.
When my husband came inside to tell me what had happened, I realized that at about the same time the vet had said it was “up to St. Jude,” I had felt that my prayers were complete. I thought it was right to “let go and let God,” and I did. By this I mean that I needed to let go of the feeling that I was personally responsible for curing the horse, and instead cling to what I knew would help: the understanding that God was actually the horse’s very Life. To me, this “letting go” opened the way for the healing to take place.
Seven months after Vinny’s healing, our Welsh pony, Pepsi, escaped. When I found her, she was beginning to show signs of colic. Ten minutes later there was no doubt about her condition.
The experience with Vinny was still very fresh in my memory, and it was clear to me that prayer had saved his life. Still, I was finding it difficult to turn away from the material picture of Pepsi’s suffering. After reassuring her of God’s love for her, I sat down nearby and began mentally affirming the truths I’d learned in Christian Science about God’s creation. I realized I needed not to believe what the material senses were declaring, and instead to understand and perceive what God was knowing about the situation. I needed to turn wholeheartedly to God and face down the false beliefs concerning colic in horses. I needed to, as Christian Science founder Mary Baker Eddy says, look “away from the body into Truth and Love” (Science and Health with Key to the Scriptures, p. 261).
I left Pepsi to phone the same practitioner who had worked and prayed for Vinny. The practitioner immediately responded by saying, with absolute conviction, “There is no colic.” I prayed to conquer my fear by acknowledging the present perfection of God’s spiritual creation.
In about 20 minutes, I went to check on Pepsi and found her exhibiting no further signs of colic. At this point I knew it was no longer necessary to continue to monitor Pepsi’s progress, and, in fact, that this was actually a key part of the healing. I could completely trust the effectiveness of the prayer, and have the same trust in God I feel every time I get on a horse—knowing that God is the governor of me, the horse, and our whole interaction. I spoke to the practitioner again, and she confirmed that I could indeed trust God to care for Pepsi in the best possible way. I did, and when I saw Pepsi in the morning, she was her usual hungry self!
I am so very grateful for these two healings. Much more valuable to me, however, is the understanding I am beginning to gain that I can completely trust animals to God’s care, and that animals, just like each one of us, are part of God’s perfect and harmonious creation. I am also so grateful for the unselfish work of Christian Science practitioners.
Calgary, Alberta, Canada
