I thought I'd be sad and teary that day. After all, I was about to say goodbye to my work family—people I'd grown close to. It had been my first full-time job.

This was my last day because I was going to have a baby in about three weeks. And it was a great day. I didn't feel sad. I made it through the party they had for me without anything close to a tear. It felt just like a regular Friday.

But that night, several hours after going to bed, I woke up in a state of acute anxiety. The sadness I had expected to feel during the day was now coming on strong, and along with it a terror about my impending new job as a mother. Everything would be different, it suddenly hit me. And I didn't know what it would be like.

I knew I couldn't—and shouldn't—just try to go back to sleep. I knew I needed to pray. Not wanting to wake my husband, I got out of bed, picked up my Bible and Science and Health, and sat in the bathroom with pillows and blankets.

I began to read a Bible Lesson. A passage in it from Hebrews brought me instant comfort: "By faith Abraham, when he was called to go out into a place which he should after receive for an inheritance, obeyed; and he went out, not knowing whither he went" (11:8). All that this great man from the Bible had had to do at the time referred to here was accept the blessing of God—even though he didn't know how all the details would work out. And that was what I realized I needed to do now.

All my fear of the future—immediate and beyond—simply melted away at that point. I finished my reading, thanked God for His care and love for me, and went back to bed. I went right to sleep. And the next morning I woke up joyous, grateful for this significant experience and ready to enjoy the next few weeks in preparation for my new job and life.

A few weeks after Aaron was born, I felt a heavy weight of responsibility for this beautiful and much-loved little boy. I was afraid that if I didn't do everything just right, he wouldn't turn out right, and that I would be to blame.

I needed to be rid of this fear as soon as possible. So I prayed again. I identified myself and Aaron as directly descended from God, the Father-Mother, the Parent of all. My husband's and my parental roles were to love Aaron and to take good care of him, while continually praying to better understand that God was the source of love, wisdom, activity, provision, and so on.

The burden I had been feeling dropped away immediately, and joy and ease took its place.

These were early healings for me—demands to recognize that God was tenderly parenting both Aaron and me. They were essential assurances that would later help me through the breakup of my marriage.

Later, when Aaron was just seven years old, my former husband passed away. But again, God was taking care of us, and in so many practical and useful ways: we had adequate employment and housing, and devoted friends shared the qualities and activities of fathering and husbanding with us.

From those two earlier healings, an embedded sense of God's love, guidance, and protection filled my years as an active mother. I was never even tempted to identify Aaron as fatherless, and I never identified myself as husbandless. Putting my hand in God's early on, the way that I had, gave me the confidence, poise, and wisdom to guide Aaron so that he could become a capable, confident, honest, and caring man.

Carolyn lives with her husband, composer Kenneth Girard, near Boston. Aaron, a lawyer and triathlete, lives in Brooklyn, New York.