While working in Africa for several months, I was invited by good friends to spend five days visiting Kruger National Park, a large game preserve. I had never done this before but always wanted to, so I was very excited by the prospect.
On our second day in the park, we returned to our accommodation after a wonderful day of game viewing. I decided to make tea for everyone. The electric kettle was placed up high on top of a microwave oven. As soon as the water boiled, I reached up to take down the kettle, assuming it was cordless. However, it was not, and as I pulled it toward me, there was resistance. The lid of the kettle opened, and all the boiling water spilled onto my torso.
My legs were covered by jeans and the impact there was minimal, but I was wearing only a light shirt at the time, which offered little protection. I stood stunned by the impact, unable to think at all, but my friend Val’s immediate response was a resounding “No!”
The pain was almost unbearable. I had recently taken a first aid course, which is compulsory for my work, and I knew, from what I had learned, how bad a burn of this nature could be. And I could also feel myself going into a state of shock. This compelled me to pray, as I knew immediate action had to be taken. However, I felt unable to think clearly, let alone pray, and all I wanted was some relief.
Val had already started to pray for me, when I told her that I felt I needed to immerse my body in cold water. But as soon as I uttered the words, I knew that if I made that concession, I would essentially be admitting that I was a flesh-and-blood mortal who had suffered an injury. It was clear that if I really thought that, I might as well seek medical treatment. I knew from so many previous healings that I needed to place my full reliance on God, without wavering and without compromise.
I felt unable to sit still, or even stand still, so I asked Val if she would read aloud to me as I walked around the room. She opened Science and Health with Key to the Scriptures by Mary Baker Eddy and began reading. The pain was so distracting that I barely took notice of the words.
At one point I stopped and leaned on the kitchen counter, feeling really desperate. I knew that I was at a critical point in this demonstration, and that what I decided then would determine the outcome. I could either accept the material testimony that was screaming for attention, or stand resolutely with the spiritual fact that I knew in my heart to be true. For at least a minute, a mental battle seemed to be raging.
It was then that I recalled, with total clarity, part of a quotation from Science and Health that had always resonated with me. It reads, “The suppositional warfare between truth and error is only the mental conflict between the evidence of the spiritual senses and the testimony of the material senses …” (p. 288). I had to decide whether or not I accepted that as a true statement. I knew I did, based on so many prior proofs of its authenticity. Therefore, this was not a real battle with a frightening physical condition; it was only a suppositional, mental conflict that I knew could be won.
Instantly the pain receded a little, enough for me to be able to sit still. Val was still reading aloud, and now I was able to listen and really feel the truth of the words. I do not recall what she read, but I became so immersed in it that over the next half hour all the pain drained away.
Soon I was able to go outside and walk in the evening air, constantly affirming my inseparability from God and the powerlessness of anything that would claim to usurp His power or disrupt His government. I felt a tangible sense of peace and well-being. By the time I went to bed that night, I felt no discomfort and slept soundly. It was as though the incident had never happened.
The next morning was my first setback. I felt so free mentally that when I caught sight of myself in the mirror before showering, I was shocked at what I saw, and the memory of the incident came rushing back. I tearfully told my friend I was so disfigured that I would never be able to go swimming again. With great love and firmness, she instructed me not to look at the area again and said she would do any bandaging that was needed from then on.
I knew I had to hold on to the spiritual facts I had seen so clearly the day before. As we resumed our game viewing, I was aware that Val was praying the entire time, and I was able to reject as illusory the haunting mental images every time they tried to intrude on my thought. I resolutely stayed with the allness of God.
Our schedule was not interrupted. During the course of the day, we were able to get mobile phone coverage and contacted a Christian Science nurse to ask what practical steps we should be taking with regard to cleansing. We also acquired some bandages from the park authorities.
My friend lovingly bandaged the area for the next two days. She remained completely unimpressed by the physical evidence, and by this time neither was I. By the third day, no more bandaging was required, and even the discoloration was fading.
At no time was our holiday disrupted, nor was the wonder of our time in this beautiful setting impaired. Within five days of the incident, there was complete healing. Nothing remained on my body except a small patch of redness, which disappeared over the next two days.
This experience proved to me that we are never beyond God’s help, and it showed the immediacy and efficacy of prayer. I am grateful beyond words for the unwavering support of my friend, which was convincing proof to me of the practical and loving way in which our needs are always met.
Pambula Beach, New South Wales, Australia
I am happy to verify this healing of Libby’s. Her radical reliance on God at the outset was an inspiration. We were in a remote bush camp with no treatment available, apart from a supply of bandages. This made it even more natural to rely on God completely.
I do not remember much about the game viewing; it became irrelevant. But it was a beautiful trip of learning more about God’s love moment by moment. The healing was swift, and the holiday was a genuinely happy one—full of holy days.
Waterfall, South Africa
