Some years ago, a few family members, friends, and I were biking on Martha’s Vineyard, where we were enjoying a quick two-day getaway. During a downhill ride, we were coming around an obscured sharp bend, when I collided with a rider coming directly at me. Lying on the ground, I was clearly aware of thinking, “… [I am] not material; [I am] spiritual,” from “the scientific statement of being” on page 468 of Science and Health with Key to the Scriptures by Mary Baker Eddy.
My four fellow riders, who were also Christian Scientists, gathered tightly around me, knowing the absolute spiritual truth with me—that in fact my being is spiritual and therefore I could not be harmed. I remember assuring them, “I’m all right, I’m OK.” We kept knowing the truth that God is my life, that man’s being exists in perfect harmony, and that there are no accidents in God’s kingdom (see Science and Health, p. 424), which is everywhere.
The other cyclist was unhurt, but his front tire was flat. My fellow riders replaced his tire’s tube with one we’d been carrying, and he was on his way.
Our group continued to mentally and prayerfully hold me in a bearhug of clear metaphysical truths, knowing I was at that moment cradled in God’s omnipotence. I felt largely unhurt. The front fork on my bike was bent but ridable. We rejoiced in the power of God to hold His ideas—all of us—in the realm of perfect Spirit as we rode back to the cottage we’d rented for the weekend. In reminiscing about this event later on, one of my fellow riders remembered that I had actually led that fast ride back to our cottage with no hesitation or loss of speed.
That evening I felt a little stiff, and we all continued holding to the truth that man is the perfect child of God—unaffected in any way by a claim of injury. The atmosphere was one of gratitude for God’s protection, not alarm or foreboding. My friends and family read articles to me from the Sentinel and The Christian Science Journal, as well as testimonies—proofs of God’s care for His children—which were particularly helpful. I was very grateful to have people with me who were calmly supportive and unfazed by that day’s ordeal.
The next morning was sunny and warm, and we were slated for another group ride. One of the fellows in our group was able to straighten out the bent fork on my bike, so we continued riding together. It was at that time, as we were preparing to ride off, that I was first told that I’d been unconscious for some time after the impact the day before, that I’d been thrown into the air and landed helmet-first on the pavement. I hadn’t been aware of that. Indeed, I had felt I “consciously” knew the truth about my perfect being during the experience. I came away with no head injuries, no headaches, and no symptoms of a concussion after I regained consciousness.
As an aside, while riding back to our cottage after the fall, I remember thinking, “I’m glad I was wearing a helmet.” It was certainly a choice I’d made based on practical wisdom. But an angel message came to me right after that, and my previous thought was adjusted to: “Even if I hadn’t been wearing a helmet, there would still have been adequate protection from our Father-Mother, divine Spirit, to keep me safe.”
This instance of God’s protection has stood out to me as an important example, among many, of the nearness, the oneness, the wholeness of our being with the Almighty. Nothing—no thing, incident, or person—can separate our being from our Father-Mother God, whom we reflect.
I continue to enjoy cycling, and recently, some years after the experience described above, I rode nearly 70 miles with my son, celebrating “the divine energy of Spirit” (Science and Health, p. 249).
Laguna Hills, California, US