How we all long to be complete, to feel the peace and poise that come from knowing we have all that we need. No searching, no craving for something we don't have, but just the consciousness of being harmonious and whole.

Completeness is something that we will never find in a material world, in which everything—including man—is temporal and partial. As Paul stated nearly two thousand years ago: "Now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known" (I Cor. 13:12). This indicates that partial knowledge will be overcome by a full knowledge. Complete knowledge. But what does God know about us? The Bible shows that man is the loved child of God, His perfect image, divine Life's likeness. Man is not outside of his Maker, because his Maker is the one infinite Mind, the one supreme intelligence, the source of everything good and living. Man is an idea within God, the divine Mind.

Although Mind is the only cause, Mind never began. "That which hath been is now; and that which is to be hath already been," states the book of Ecclesiastes (3:15). Interestingly enough, shortly before this verse we read: "I know that, whatsoever God doeth, it shall be for ever: nothing can be put to it, nor any thing taken from it" (verse 14). This is not only a beautiful poetic image, but an acknowledgment of the divine power and perfection that has a strong impact on daily life when we dig into the deeper meaning of it.

In dealing with relationships we can see that completeness has always been ours since eternity. In perceiving more of our daily, divine supply, we can certainly acknowledge a constant flow of ideas from the divine cause to its effect, from the Father to the child; yet we should always remember that this does not imply separation. It is not something going on like the pouring of water into a glass, the glass being distinct from the source; but divine supply exemplifies the perfect union of God and man. Man is already supplied and complete.

In describing man, Mary Baker Eddy writes, "Man is idea, the image, of Love; he is not physique. He is the compound idea of God, including all right ideas ..." (p. 475). The word compound is very interesting in this regard. One dictionary gives the definition "to put together to form a whole."

The fact that there is only one Supreme Being, one God, should not close our eyes to the fact that this one divine Truth has unlimited hues and qualities, infinite components all blending in harmony. And certainly the task—and pleasure—of living is to see and express more and more of these facets every day. Understanding better what it means that man is "the compound idea of God," and progressively demonstrating that man is not actually the limited, incomplete mortal he appears to be, will have a healing effect in our experience.

When I was in the last months of pregnancy with our second child, the midwife told me that I was lacking a considerable amount of iron in my blood. She explained to me why it was important to take immediate action. I felt sure that changing or adding something materially was not what was truly needed; I had to gain a deeper understanding of man's completeness as God's reflection. I was careful to take proper care of myself, but mostly I renewed my prayerful efforts for this little one and myself with the support of a Christian Science practitioner.

At first it was difficult to feel at peace and to see the perfect harmony established by God. Then one night a Bible verse opened a world for me: "Lift up your eyes on high, and behold who hath created these things, that bringeth out their host by number: he calleth them all by names by the greatness of his might, for that he is strong in power; not one faileth" (Isa. 40:26). Suddenly it struck me that this could refer not only to the multitude of God's thoughts but also to the completeness of each individual idea, in which every quality composing this idea is also called by name. So how could I, being the complete idea of God, lack one element of good? Or how could the child rely on me for completeness? The child was already God's complete idea, not needing to grow, to get something, to become something. From a spiritual standpoint there was no necessity to add something. Completeness was and is always a present fact.

At her next visit the midwife told me that everything was fine. A few weeks later a wonderful daughter was born; and interestingly enough, the quality many people notice in her today is her self-sufficiency.

Two months after the delivery, we had the chance to prove again the completeness of the divine creation, yet in a very different experience. One morning we discovered that our car had been stolen. The whole family dedicated itself to praying earnestly about this, knowing that there is no possibility of loss or crime in God's universe. We reminded ourselves that every right idea would always be with us. But weeks went by and the car was not found. My parents graciously shared their car with us, but I became impatient and angry that someone could drive our car around with our children's car seats inside. My parents and my husband prayed persistently, too, and were confident of a good outcome, but I had something still to learn.

At one point, I finally stopped letting indignation, impatience, and regret take over my thinking. I knew I had to love and forgive, as Christ Jesus taught; and I promised myself to stick to the spiritual facts of being, even if it took us thirty years to get our car back! And then I remembered what I had learned about man's completeness during my pregnancy, and I felt at peace. How could I ever have thought that it was possible for anything good and right to be taken away from us? The material senses tell us every day that we lack and can lose what we need, but the spiritual facts are the truth and can be proved.

Some friends sold us a car that very much suited our needs. We felt that God was showing us the completeness of divine Life, the constant supply of useful ideas like flexibility, availability, hospitality—qualities that a car could be seen as representing. Yet we felt that the breaking of one of the Ten Commandments, in this case the commandment to not steal, had to be corrected, too, and therefore we continued to trust Mind's guidance.

Six weeks after the theft, I went for the first time since the incident to my university institute to do some research. On the way to the building I saw our car! The policeman who arrived later told me that, had I found the car two days later, it would have belonged to the insurance company. Another good thing resulted from this experience: Before this incident, we had shared our car with another family member. Now that we had two cars, we could give her one; and she could afford to maintain it on her own.

Our six-year-old son still refers to this experience as the day when "the Shepherd showed us where the car was," and his concern that something could be stolen was replaced by the recognition of divine guidance and of the glorious fact of man's completeness.

It is probably a task of eternity to see all the elements of our divine gift of completeness, which is always untouched by the limitations of matter. I feel that I have only begun to see more of the dimensions this "project" will take, and I am looking forward to deeper insights. To perceive life every day more from the standpoint of Spirit will show us our divine sonship with God and will result in great inner peace and happiness. As Mrs. Eddy wrote in Science and Health: "When we realize that Life is Spirit, never in nor of matter, this understanding will expand into self-completeness, finding all in God, good, and needing no other consciousness" (p. 264).