At age twelve I was enrolled in a Christian Science Sunday School

At age twelve I was enrolled in a Christian Science Sunday School. The one aspect of Truth I immediately grasped while there was that no matter what my human circumstance, God would help and heal me. That summer I was invited by a friend to go swimming in a pool I was not at all familiar with. Unlike most pools that have a gradual slope, the water depth in this pool abruptly dropped from three feet to about ten feet. At that time I was not a swimmer, so I usually just splashed around the shallow end. Unaware of the sharp drop, I suddenly found myself in ten feet of water. I floundered and went under a few times. Finally, even though there were lifeguards on duty, it seemed that human help had abandoned me. I was taking in huge gulps of water and knew I was sinking. Then I thought of what I had been learning in Sunday School: that without question God would help me if only I would reach out for His care. "God is my help," I affirmed, mentally reaching out for this support—not desperately as a last effort, but confident of His help. Instantly I felt buoyed, and then my outstretched hand touched the side of the pool. I recall feeling a wonderful closeness to God at that moment, and a deep sense of gratitude for His care.

A few years later, as a teen-ager, I fell asleep while under a sunlamp that was not more than a foot away from my face. Though my sleep was brief, I was severely burned. My face was discolored, swollen, and blistered. My mother called a Christian Science practitioner, who prayed for me. I can't remember the specific truths we pondered, but I do know our prayerful work was diligent. I experienced no pain or complications, and within a week I was back in school—my skin flawless and normal in color.

While I was in college, my father, who was not a Christian Scientist, suffered what was medically diagnosed as a severe gallbladder attack. Immediate surgery was recommended by physicians at a hospital emergency room. But he had greater faith in God's healing power than in the healing ability of a surgeon. He was brought home, and once there, he asked for Christian Science treatment. For several days we prayed to see the man God created—perfect, spiritual, upright, and free. Progress was slow; one evening it seemed as though my father would have to return to the hospital for surgery. But we all refused to accept this alternative, and began to replace fear-filled thoughts with grateful acknowledgment of the goodness already evident in our family. That was the turning point. In just a few days my father was completely well.