In a lifetime of relying on the truths of Christian Science, I've loved learning more about what it means to "stand porter at the door of thought," (Science and Health, p. 392)—to challenge any thought that denies our spiritual identity and perfection. The passage continues, "Admitting only such conclusions as you wish realized in bodily results, you will control yourself harmoniously."

Twenty-five years ago, I was facing intense personal challenges, and during this difficult time, it appeared that my vision was weakening. I had my eyes tested, and the examination revealed that I needed glasses. There was also a clear implication that my vision would worsen over the years. This should have alerted me to pray about the situation. But at the time, I only chose to lay aside the prescribed glasses and buy drugstore glasses in a sequence of stronger lenses.

However, an incident occurred that served to awaken my thought. One day at the school where I taught, several teachers converged in the hall, leading our classes in line. All of us had glasses perched on the top of our heads. One of my students looked up and asked, "Does the principal buy those glasses for all the teachers?" Well, that got my attention! The humor in the remark helped me refocus, literally. I saw that it was time to deepen my spiritual understanding of sight through prayer.

As an art teacher, I was familiar with many concepts related to vision, such as accuracy, light, wisdom, insight, deceptive illusions, and the illumination or "divine light" seen in medieval manuscripts. I knew that artists reach for a higher truth that far transcends what appears on a canvas or other material. The real substance, or reality of the work, lies in the ideas it conveys.

So I turned to the spiritual, scientific truth about these concepts. In speaking of the testimony of physical sight, Mrs. Eddy wrote, "The optical focus is another proof of the illusion of material sense. On the eye's retina, sky and tree-tops apparently join hands, clouds and ocean meet and mingle" (ibid., p. 122). I began to claim my true sense of vision, realizing that acuteness (derived from the Latin word acuere meaning "to sharpen"), understanding and true discernment were all a natural part of my God-created identity. It became clear that no apparent pressure or discord in my life could interfere with that truth. Sight is dependent upon light, and I knew that I needed to see all challenges through the light of Truth. As His reflection, I could see only what God sees, and that included no evidence or picture contrary to His infinite goodness.

One by one, I saw each of the challenges I'd been burdened with as misconceptions of God's perfect spiritual creation. This helped me further in understanding that seeing is actually mental, not physical. At the same time, I felt a renewed and loving perception of my students and my fellow men and women in their true, free, abundantly-cared-for identities as God's children.

Soon after finding this inspiration, I realized I didn't need the glasses anymore. This was a great lesson, a reminder of the need to be mentally vigilant about what I accept as true. It took a while to prayerfully resolve some of the other challenges in my life, but I came to understand, too, that they were only opportunities to grow spiritually.

Rewards, both personal and professional, have continued to flow during the years since this uplifting time of spiritual growth. I have also remained free of the need for glasses.

I continue to be grateful for God's guidance, which is always available to us, even when tempted to make some crazy decision! Many times, God just didn't allow me to take the wrong path.

I love the daily challenge of "bringing into captivity every thought to the obedience of Christ" (II Cor 10:5). And I'm grateful to Mary Baker Eddy for explaining the healing works of Jesus to humanity in a way that is understandable and provable.

NAN PARKER WILLIAMS
WINTER PARK, FLORIDA