When our first child was about two years old, some close family members planned to visit for a weekend. My husband and I were not looking forward to this.
I grew up in Christian Science, but as a young adult with a baby daughter, I struggled with my faith in Christian Science healing. When I read testimonies in the Christian Science magazines, I would feel that those amazing healings could never happen to me.
I would like to express gratitude for all the ways in which Mary Baker Eddy’s timeless writings counsel us continually. Many times throughout my life I have been amazed at how her exact words seemed written just for me—and have brought about healings of hardness in my thought—because they revealed to me exactly what needed to be uncovered.
I had experienced some big challenges in my work for my branch Church of Christ, Scientist, and wondered if I could continue. I felt utterly brokenhearted.
Last year, as a junior in high school, I learned a big lesson in humbly trusting God to lead me where I need to be. As I prayed to know that God was constantly preparing me for my next step, I was guided to a summer internship working at a Christian Science nursing facility in Los Angeles, where I took steps forward in spiritual growth.
I was brought up with Christian Science. My mom drove my brother and me to the Christian Science Sunday School regularly, even though we bickered on the way there in the back seat! When I was about nineteen, a healing proved to be a turning point in my practice and understanding of Christian Science.
I had always been proud of the religion ingrained in me from childhood. And yet I was taught to accept my existence as a sinner living in a state of unworthiness.
I grew up in a dedicated Christian Science family. My mum left her hairdressing business to become a Christian Science practitioner when I was very young, and my dad had been a Christian Scientist since very early in their marriage.
As a child, I was often told I was unwanted, unwelcome, even a “thorn in the flesh. ” These remarks sank deeply into my heart.
In 1944, a series of physical exams for enlistment in the United States Armed Forces consistently indicated I had contracted tuberculosis. I was labeled “4-F”—unfit for military service.