The traditional view of prayer is that man is reaching out to a God who is separate and distant. Yet the Bible tells us, “The Lord is nigh unto all them that call upon him, to all that call upon him in truth” (Psalms 145:18).
Prayer is a very individual thing, but in its holiest form, it is communion with God. Often the most uplifting prayers are those where we humbly listen. God is divine Mind, and He is always communicating with His ideas—man and the universe. He is always here, ready to guide and guard a willing heart. But to hear Him, we may need to improve our listening.
When we silently hunger to know God better—to see only what God sees, to let Him reveal to us our true nature as His image and likeness—this state of mind is ready to be filled with divine inspiration.
One of my favorite Bible verses is from First Samuel: “Stand thou still a while, that I may shew thee the word of God” (9:27). The Scriptures tell us in many ways that hearing and obeying the Word of God leads to salvation. Jesus instructed his followers, “Man shall not live by bread alone, but by every word of God” (Luke 4:4). And again, “Blessed are they that hear the word of God, and keep it” (Luke 11:28).
I have had many healings by standing mentally still and listening to God. When a specific need comes up, such as when a belief of illness or accident presents itself, I usually find the human situation is making a number of claims that God, good, is not the only power. It is important to recognize and dismiss these false claims as erroneous, so they don’t take over and make us fearful. We do not need to accept these suggestions. They come to us for validation, but we don’t need to acquiesce. They have only the seeming power we give them by believing them.
Silencing this mental chatter prepares us to hear God’s Word. It is like tuning a radio—eliminating the static of mortal mind so the message of divine Mind is loud and clear. And this is important when we pray not just for ourselves, but for others—and for our pets, as well.
My husband is a bird lover who keeps chickens as pets. He loves his chickens; they run to him to be picked up, and he carries them around, talking gently to them. They are his babies.
A few years ago, he had three hens he was very fond of: Bethany, Xena, and Jordan. Jordan had always been a bit scrawny. She was much lighter than the other chickens and sometimes scruffy. One afternoon we noticed that Jordan was lying on the ground in a strange position, looking lifeless. As my husband picked her up, she was limp in his arms, and he said sadly, “I think she’s dead.”
But, just then I saw her eye blink open and close again. My husband had been about to go to the hardware store, so I said, “Just leave her with me.” He carefully placed her in the nest box, and I headed inside to pray.
When we silently hunger to know God better, this state of mind is ready to be filled with divine inspiration.
I found myself wondering if she was about the right age to die. But straightaway I saw that to think this way was to accept the belief that life is in a mortal body that at some point wears out, and that death is inevitable. Christian Science teaches that in reality, life is not a timeline that unavoidably comes to an end. Life is a synonym for God—without beginning and without end.
The next thought that came to me was that chickens just die sometimes, for no apparent reason. Again, I rejected this, reasoning that because Life is God, Life is also divine Principle. Life is the law—unchangeable and eternal. There are no creatures that are vulnerable to happenstance. Life is not at the mercy of a mortal body.
The third suggestion that came was that chickens are difficult to heal—I had failed with chickens before. But I knew that God never fails, so I reasoned that I, as God’s reflection, could not fail either. In divine Mind there is only present perfection, now.
I dismissed all these erroneous suggestions as I was walking back to the house. By the time I stood in the living room, the chatter of false beliefs had stopped, and I turned to God. I asked God, “What do you want me to see here?” I listened, and immediately the thought came to look at Jordan not as a mortal creature, but as one of God’s perfect, spiritual ideas. Since God is All, His expression is everywhere, and there is, in reality, nothing else to see.
And so, standing in the living room with my eyes closed, I obeyed. I thought of Jordan and saw (acknowledged) her as a spiritual expression of God. I saw all the lovely things I knew about her and her little quirky ways. She was beautiful. She had an identity that was unique and perfect. I was so filled with what God was teaching me that I totally forgot about the chicken body that was out in the nest box.
About an hour later, my husband and I were out in the back garden again, and there, digging in the dirt, were three chickens, all happy and busy. A bit later I watched Jordan joyously stretching up her neck and flapping her wings—with no trace of a problem, and no recovery process. We rejoiced: “I will look unto the Lord; … my God will hear me” (Micah 7:7).
After this incident, Jordan grew plump and sleek, and I loved to look at her and see how beautiful she was. She just seemed to keep blossoming. After some months, though, I noticed she had what appeared to be a tumor growing on the lower part of her body. Over the next few weeks it grew very large until she could hardly walk. Even to sit down she needed to put her wing out to steady herself so she didn’t fall over.
I found myself asking, “Why Jordan? Why this chicken, when I had seen her so clearly as God’s expression before?” When I asked this question, I was not tuning out mental chatter. I was very concerned about her physical condition.
Then one day I asked the question again, but this time in humility. I shut out the material evidence, quieted my thought, and just turned to God: “Why Jordan, when I saw her so clearly before?” The answer came loud and clear that, yes, I did see her. What I saw was real—a spiritual idea. The body is not what’s real. I saw that!
In that moment I realized the mistake I had been making. When I had been admiring how sleek and plump Jordan looked, I had been accepting that this body was her. But a mortal body, sick or well, is not true being. The plump body was not her, just as a dying body was not her!
Science and Health with Key to the Scriptures says, “It is as necessary for a health-illusion, as for an illusion of sickness, to be instructed out of itself into the understanding of what constitutes health; for a change in either a health-belief or a belief in sickness affects the physical condition” (Mary Baker Eddy, p. 297). After that, even though I saw the chickens every day, I never noticed what state Jordan’s body was in. It just wasn’t in my consciousness.
Then, maybe a couple of weeks later, I noticed her racing across the yard, chasing the pigeons. She was running fast, flapping her wings and stretching out her legs—just for fun and mischief. There was no evidence of abnormality.
Nowadays I know not to accept the chatter of false belief as my thinking. I simply know that suggestions of fear, disease, or any inharmony are not my thoughts because they are not from God, and I counter them with Godlike thoughts. When I stand as a porter (see Science and Health, p. 392) and bar these thoughts, I am ready to hear the Word of God. I would not have learned these lessons if my prayer had been one of me doing the communicating. God is the one with the answers.
A few months ago, another of our chickens seemed to have a similar tumor. This time I was not fooled. The truths God had communicated to me last time came again, loud and clear. I needed to see this little one as God’s perfect creature, because God’s creation is all there is. The next time I had cause to pick her up, I couldn’t help but notice there was no evidence of any abnormality.
God has taught me many lessons through the animals in our family. Armed with this body of evidence, I am more able to confidently meet the challenges that arise in my healing practice with the human species. In caring for our animals and in praying for my fellow men and women, I can certainly say with the Psalmist: “I will hear what God the Lord will speak: for he will speak peace unto his people” (Psalms 85:8).
The effects of Christian Science are not so much seen as felt. It is the “still, small voice” of Truth uttering itself. We are either turning away from this utterance, or we are listening to it and going up higher.
Mary Baker Eddy
Science and Health with Key to the Scriptures
