Last fall during warm-up for a morning tournament tennis match, I was hit squarely in one eye with a tennis ball. The impact threw me to the ground in acute pain. I clenched my eye for fear of loss as I remembered that one of the resident pros had lost an eye in a similar way. When I opened my eyelid, I could not see and the pain worsened.

The first helpful thought that came to me was "God made a seeing eye" (see Prov. 20:12). God did not make us unseeing. Eternal vision was built into my being, never to be lost, and I decided that I could demonstrate this truth. God did not create us as physical, subject to lost sight and injury.

Not wanting to waste time in self-pity, I immediately forgave my opponent, for the accident wasn't his fault. I also forgave myself for missing the shot and committed myself to being more alert in the future. Having experienced spiritual healings through Christian Science in the past, I knew the injury could be healed. I was not alone. God was there. I could rely upon the Christ—God's ever-active healing power—to restore my vision.

Jesus' admonition, "Judge not according to the appearance, but judge righteous judgment" (John 7:24), came to thought. Here was a reminder not to sum up my prospects for clear vision from what I saw physically. I had to look beyond the evidence of physical damage to the spiritual facts of my being, and I knew I could expect the evidence of harm to disappear as I understood the spiritual truth about sight. I wanted to become more impressed with this truth regarding my true vision than I was with the physical damage.

My opponent was ready to cancel our match, but I asked him to wait while I collected myself. He was patient with my request and stood aside while I prayed for the pain to go away.

I began my prayers for restoration by remembering that all conditions of the mortal body are human beliefs made manifest. These beliefs may be either good or bad. In Science and Health with Key to the Scriptures, Mary Baker Eddy wrote, "The material body manifests only what mortal mind believes, whether it be a broken bone, disease, or sin" (p. 402). In my case, I needed to heal the belief that my eye was injured.

As I affirmed my safety in God's protection, the initial pain subsided quickly, and after two or three minutes I was able to stand fairly composed. I told my opponent I was ready to continue with the game—which we did.

The match became a prayer in action for me. It was difficult to play, but I held my mental position that I was an immortal child of God, knowing I had a perfect spiritual being at one with the divine, an existence that could never be harmed. As I persisted in embracing this spiritual reality, the fear I'd been feeling weakened—and the symptoms of injury began to fade.

I recalled Mrs. Eddy's description in Science and Health that identifies eyes as representing "spiritual discernment,—not material but mental" (p. 586). Pondering this, I saw clearly that sight is not in an eyeball; it's a faculty of the divine Mind that we always possess. Because we are intelligent expressions of Mind, perfect sight is built into our spiritual makeup; clear vision is eternal, an indestructible capacity of Spirit, ours forever.

I tenaciously clung to the spiritual reality that my vision was perfect, that nothing dangerous had threatened it, and that the activity of Christ, God's truth, was removing all evidence of injury.

My opponent handily beat me, but winning was no longer getting the most points for me. The victory was in conquering my fear with a clearer understanding of Truth and Love, and proving my freedom through healing.

After the match, I stepped outside the building into the bright sunlight, and felt as if I had to start my prayers all over again, for the pain from the light was intense. I covered my eyelid with my palm, convinced the pain would abate as I reaffirmed that my sight was immortal and that the prayer of Christly understanding was taking the evidence of injury away.

The pain would come and go in waves, but it lessened each time as I held my position. By afternoon it had ceased to be a significant issue. However, I still couldn't see out of my eye.

To reassure myself, I prayed for a deeper understanding of how God was healing me. God was not some commander-in-chief in a central headquarters, remote to my experience, I noted. God was the very presence of all that was right and good, which included indestructible vision. God was All, and by virtue of His being All, there was no room for anything but good to exist. God was omnipresent harmony and health, and the understanding of this was healing me. Recovery was certain. Grasping these facts, I lost my fear of permanent eye damage and felt confident of freedom from every phase of this accident.

Over the next couple of days, I adhered like super-glue to the truth about my vision. The darkness in my eye receded, light appeared, and my sight came into focus. Flickering lights distracted my view for a couple of weeks, but as I held steadfast to my undeniable spiritual wholeness—clutching it like a barnacle on a ship's hull and refusing to let go—the blinking spots disappeared and my sight became perfectly clear.

I highly value this experience. For me it illustrates so clearly the need to abide resolutely in Truth when the evidence of accident and destruction appear blatant and overwhelming. I am grateful for a full recovery.

EVAN MEHLENBACHER
  KENNEWICK, WASHINGTON, US