Some healings may seem a long time coming. Deep-rooted difficulties feel hard to resolve, but when the truth of Truth hits you, when you feel divine Love lifting you up and sweeping you along in a radiant newness of life, the joy, energy, and celebration know no bounds!

This is how it happened in my life. My mum and I seemed wrapped in conflict from Day One; my childhood, teenage, and even adult years found little security or warmth in this volatile relationship. As I grew up, I felt very insecure, fearful, and resentful. My relationship with my dad was also difficult and frequently confusing. I was swinging between wanting to be part of a loving, accepting family and wanting to be as far away from my parents as possible!

My understanding of God was confused, too. I thought of Him as partial and punishing. I felt that my prayers for help were unanswered. Looking back, I think I was very short on gratitude in all my early relationships. I especially needed gratitude for the most important one of all, my relationship to God, divine Love. "We plead for unmerited pardon and for a liberal outpouring of benefactions. Are we really grateful for the good already received?" writes Mary Baker Eddy in Science and Health (p. 3). Today I realize how much I was loved and guided and protected by divine Love throughout those years. The Bible says, "The Lord thy God, he it is that doth go with thee; he will not fail thee, nor forsake thee" (Deut. 31:6).

As an adult, I became more reflective and more in charge of my own emotions, and some aspects of my life changed, but there were times when I doubted if true harmony was even possible. Still, I cherished a desire that real friendship, love, and understanding replace the censure I seemed to encounter. It is true that my parents wanted a loving and joyful relationship as much as I did, but the dark patterns of human error always seemed to frustrate our intentions. I carried so much emotional luggage that visits home were rarely harmonious.

Not really knowing anything of God's laws at that time, I explored a variety of means to improve the relationship, and some progress was made. The deep depression that shadowed my happiness, however, led me to professional counseling. Each nut and bolt of my childhood was analyzed, scrutinized, and discussed interminably. But there were so many unanswered questions in my life that I knew the answer had to have something to do with my spiritual selfhood. So I ended the therapy and began to work on understanding God.

Shortly after this, I met a Christian Scientist. This friend expressed such genuine warmth, vitality, intelligence, and acceptance that when she shyly offered me a copy of Science and Health, I accepted it with curiosity. The opening words of the preface were enough to convince me that my prayers were being answered: "To those leaning on the sustaining infinite, to-day is big with blessings" (p. vii). I felt such a sense of relief, a feeling of coming home.

My mum and I did grow closer in the few remaining months before she passed on. I felt her passing might bring an end to the pain, but it persisted for three more years. During that time, nevertheless, I became a serious student of Christian Science, learning more of the true nature of God by following divine Principle, trusting in Truth, and trying to reflect divine Love in all I did.

Just a few months after my mum, my dad passed on. In that brief time we had begun to know each other better and to build a genuine relationship. My sense of loss was acute. I despaired that I would ever be able to progress, and I felt too that until the destructive feelings could be let go, I would remain only at the threshold of spiritual understanding.

When I talked to a Christian Science practitioner about this, he was reassuring and very clear about the truth of the situation, but I felt unable to accept what he knew to be an established fact: that I was already God's beloved, spiritual child, God's perfect expression, including all the beautiful qualities that go with that. Instead, I felt a resistance to accepting God as my true Parent, my only Father-Mother. Even the thought of it made me want to batten down the hatches!

Then, in a biography of Mrs. Eddy, I read a letter she had written to her brother George Baker over a misunderstanding. Although the letter was written in 1850, when she was not yet thirty, it demonstrates her spiritual maturity, and it offered me a strong insight into how to heal the past. She wrote, "I cherish no unkindness in memory for you—I remember your kindnesses and your virtues—the rest is forgotten" (Jewel Spangler Smaus, Mary Baker Eddy: The Golden Days, p. 155).

The words shouted at me from the page. I thought that if I could make them my own, I could have a completely different sense of family. "I cherish no unkindness in memory for you ...." Is that what I had been doing—cherishing hurt, pain, despair? Did I also cherish the excuses for not loving that such damage might provide? It was quite a thought!

"I remember your kindnesses and your virtues ...." That felt tricky as I recalled past events in my family. But then I remembered how others had truly loved my mum, the good she had achieved, the laughter she had brought into other people's lives even when she was struggling with illness and unhappiness. And I remembered too the qualities my dad possessed. Surely these could be treasured. And the final line of that letter was "the rest is forgotten." Couldn't I trust God to help me with that?

Later that day, I suddenly knew I was free. I was healed. I knew it with absolute certainty because I could no longer remember the pain and the detail of the conflict. The past was wiped out, no longer relevant. I felt so joyful, so complete in God's love.

I had spent years wanting my parents to admit that they gave me a hard time; I had wanted them to say they were sorry. I had even cherished a fictitious scenario where they would apologize, and I could play the role of an understanding and forgiving daughter! When I look back, it seems preposterous that I could have desired such personal power. In his healing work, Christ Jesus recognized man's true, spiritual identity, knowing that error was no part of man. Healing for individuals followed naturally and instantaneously.

The months that have followed my healing have been rich indeed. My mum is someone special, now remembered for her gifts and qualities, as is my dad. It is a real joy to be able to talk of them both without rancor, to tell others of all they gave to me and taught me, spiritually as well as humanly.

My dearest and closest friend is my true Parent, my Father-Mother God, who guides and directs me nurtures me and blesses me—and all. My home welcomes new friends as my expanded sense of family grows; my sense of church embraces members and community. In the words of that letter from long ago, I can say to my family in thought, "I cherish no unkindness in memory for you—I remember your kindnesses and your virtues—the rest is forgotten."