As a young bride from the Midwestern United States, I never imagined that one day I’d find myself living overseas in a military compound, but that’s what happened. My new husband, a US naval officer, was stationed in the Philippines soon after we were married, and I joined him months later on the naval base.
We had been warned against driving our vehicle off the base, but my husband thought a quick trip to Manila wouldn’t be a problem. He’d dismissed rumors about US personnel being detained or captured off the base as hearsay. We soon realized how naive this was. The Vietnam War was in progress, and the Philippines was on the verge of martial law. Americans were barely tolerated, and were sometimes shot at.
As our vehicle approached a checkpoint on the dirt road, a gate came down blocking our way forward. My husband was taken out of our car by Filipino military soldiers into a small hut. Sitting alone in our car by the roadside, waiting for news of our circumstances, I began to pray. I’d recently been cherishing the simplicity and power of the first two words of the Lord’s Prayer, “Our Father,” which indicate the inclusive nature of God’s mothering and fathering love, and the brotherhood and sisterhood of God’s children. I knew it was impossible for anyone to be left outside the strong, gentle, enfolding arms of our universal Parent—divine Love.
Since childhood I’d been familiar with the Lord’s Prayer, and later, Jesus’ directive: “Do to others whatever you would like them to do to you” (Matthew 7:12, New Living Translation). While I was taking Christian Science class instruction, it was suggested that the latter included thinking about others in the way we’d want to be thought of. I had been attempting to apply this in all my interactions with the local people, even in the face of hostility.
I had also learned in Christian Science that prayer involves listening for, and having the humility to follow, God’s guidance. At that moment, while I was waiting in the car, my simple prayer was, “What now, God?” The answer washed over me: “Don’t be afraid. Be grateful.” It’s hard to be afraid when you’re busy being grateful. Although our situation seemed precarious, my gratitude list was long, and eventually I felt calm and impelled to exit the car to locate my husband.
The events that followed remind me of something Mary Baker Eddy, the Discoverer of Christian Science, said about God’s help in such situations: “Remember, thou canst be brought into no condition, be it ever so severe, where Love has not been before thee and where its tender lesson is not awaiting thee. Therefore despair not nor murmur, for that which seeketh to save, to heal, and to deliver, will guide thee, if thou seekest this guidance” (The First Church of Christ, Scientist, and Miscellany, pp. 149–150).
Just as the coldest, most imposing iceberg cannot resist melting in warm waters, no circumstance—no matter how insoluble it appears to be—can resist the healing influence of divine Love. Right there, in the face of seeming stolidity and aggression, I felt Love’s tender and powerful healing presence defusing the tension. I knew that evil thoughts do not characterize any of us. Love dissolves these lies about man’s true, spiritual nature.
As I walked toward the hut where my husband had been taken, I had no idea what I would say or do, but I knew God would give me the right words. Confident of my safety, I stepped into a room full of uniformed military personnel and spotted my husband in a corner with an armed guard.
Moving toward the officer in charge, I heard myself using the few Tagalog phrases I’d learned, sincerely telling him how beautiful his country was. His anger melted, and after a brief discussion over a missing license plate on the front of our car (the reason given for detaining us), he walked over to talk into the two-way radio. After an animated discussion with his superior on the other end of the conversation, he announced that we could leave by paying a miniscule fine.
I thanked the officer in his language and my husband and I reemerged to continue our travels. The next two years of our deployment in that beautiful country were without further incident of this kind.
During our remaining time abroad, my husband and I were faced with other challenges such as typhoons, floods, fires, earthquakes, riots, monsoons, and bomb threats, but in every circumstance, we found that God uplifted and supported us.
Today, as I reflect on this one experience, being free was great. Being safe was wonderful. But knowing that God’s universal language of love is understood everywhere and is able to dissolve whatever conflict or misunderstanding may arise, was the gift of a lifetime.
