In 1985 my marriage ended, and that was a huge shock to me. I found myself overwhelmed with feelings of failure and worthlessness, and it was very troubling. I had this sense of having lost contact with God, not knowing what was right to do in God's eyes. And at the same time I felt this agonizing loneliness, just wanting human companionship, and particularly female companionship. It was an aching loneliness, day after day.

I had been a serious student of the Bible and the writings of Mary Baker Eddy for years. But now I really plunged into them with such a direct urgency. I was like a drowning man. I was reaching out in prayer to grasp something that would save me.

There were three turning points in my search and my progress. The first one was what I would call a new contact with God. I think the God I had believed in was certainly a just God, but one you had to please. One day, quite suddenly, as I was praying, I was overwhelmed by a sense of a presence of a very different kind of God. And this was a God who was very gentle and had a great sense of forgiveness and acceptance. And this presence said to me, "Well, Brian, how are we going to work this out?" There was no overwhelming burden being placed on me. We were going to work this out together. There was no sense of urgency, no sense of condemnation.

A passage from the Bible describes the second thing I learned. A young man comes to Jesus and says to him, "Good master, what good thing shall I do, that I may have eternal life?" (Matt. 19:16). He tells Jesus that he has already been obeying all the Commandments. But is there anything else he needs to do? And Jesus' response is, "If you want to be perfect, go and sell what you have and give it to the poor."

Now, there are probably different ways of interpreting this, but to me it meant this young man was thinking that having spiritual merit was a matter of the good things that you do. And I think what Jesus was saying was: "Wait a minute. This isn't a matter of adding up points; this is a matter of divesting yourself of the misconceptions about who you think you are, and getting a deeper sense of what goodness is and where the real treasure is."

I felt that I had been like that young man. I had been obsessed with this idea of finding out where I had gone wrong. And then in prayer, as I was listening, the thought came clearly: "Brian, it doesn't matter." And this was such a surprise to me, because here I was being freed from this burden of needing to resolve the question of whether it was right or not to have gotten married in the first place, whether it was right or not to have gotten divorced, and all the other decisions that went along with that. And I never doubted that answer. It came with such a quiet sense of authority.

And then the final turning point. It was interesting how my loneliness was alleviated. One evening, I was standing on a street corner in New York City. And I suddenly realized that for perhaps several weeks I had become aware of a divine presence—a sort of companioning in my heart. When there had been a need, I'd felt something had been there right beside me to help me—to point the way, or to supply an idea that I needed, or to comfort me. Before this, the concept of angels, or of a presence guiding me, had just been symbolic to me. It had been very abstract. But now I realized that I had been experiencing something that had been so immediate and so close. There was a presence right alongside of me, guiding me in my daily walk, and it made me feel very much at peace. I also realized that for some weeks I had been feeling content and satisfied, and all the agony of loneliness and the deep longing to have someone in my life had just melted away. And this was a great release.

Life to me had become normal. I felt the difference, for instance, when I was able to be content going out to a movie, or a play, in the evening—just with myself. I enjoyed my own company and wasn't feeling as though I had to have someone there to share the activity with me. I would not have minded to have someone share it with me, but I wasn't feeling as though the exercise was pointless if I was alone. And I found I could go into social situations and not be awkward. And, you know, I really stopped looking around to see whom I might socialize with. I was content on my own.

This went on for some months, until one day I met a woman who had an interest in some things I was interested in, and a very natural and comfortable relationship developed out of that.

From that point on, for some years, I was never without some sort of happy relationship. Eventually, I developed a friendship with someone where the attraction was much deeper. And I'm happy to say that I got married again.

The way things worked out for me was wonderful. But it all began with being close to God. No matter whether any person was in or out of my life, my first love was God. And that's something that was—and remains today—deeply satisfying.

BRIAN ZAVITZ
TORONTO, ONTARIO, CANADA