It was moving day at our home, and boxes were stacked everywhere, ready for loading on the truck. As I walked through the doorway with a large box in my arms, the corner of the box knocked over a shelf that was propped against the wall near the doorjamb. Because my hands were full, I could not catch the shelf, and the edge of it landed full force on my foot.
Amid great pain, I tried my best to declare the truth about my spiritual being out loud: “I am God’s child. Nothing can interfere with the harmonious outcome of this right move. God, good, is the only force or power.” These ideas calmed my thought. However, as the day progressed, it became more and more difficult to stand on the foot.
By midafternoon, after the movers had loaded all the boxes onto the truck, I was in quite a lot of pain, and the foot seemed unnaturally cold. My husband helped me hobble to the sidewalk to hail a cab. As I was standing there, a clear, calm voice in my thought asked whether I wanted to go to the emergency room or to the Christian Science Reading Room.
