HIGH UP IN THE WHITE MOUNTAINS of New Hampshire are cairns, man-made cone-shaped rock piles ranging from two to eight feet tall. These cairns mark the path along the ridgeline. Even on the summit of 6,288-foot-high Mt. Washington, with recorded wind speeds of up to 231 mph, cairns can withstand the often brutal mountain weather better than a traditional post and sign. When visibility is bad, these cairns are invaluable guides to safety.

One of the "cairns" that has kept me on the right path for many years is the Bible. My grandmother was a Christian Scientist, and I became acquainted with the Bible while visiting her house, with occasional visits to the Christian Science Sunday School. It was not until college, however, that I spent more time not only with this cairn, but with another waymark, Science and Health with Key to the Scriptures. I found myself turning more often to Science and Health, simply because I found it easier to understand—though I appreciated how much the Bible had meant to the book's author, Mary Baker Eddy.

These two books helped me in my passage from a limited, material sense of existence to the spiritual, as I began to understand the way God had created me, in His likeness, as the first chapter of Genesis made clear. From that point on, the counsel, comfort, and healing messages contained in the Bible assured me that I was headed in the right direction. Never again did I doubt the strength of my relationship with my Father-Mother God.

In my junior year of college, I was elected Second Reader in a Christian Science branch church I'd joined. I was happy to devote much of my week to researching the Bible. On Friday and Saturday nights I spent time in my apartment reading the relevant passages aloud in preparation for the upcoming Sunday service. The three years I spent as a Reader proved to be a time of great spiritual growth for me—and I'm still growing and learning several years later as a mother to three children.

An important example of this occurred on September 11, 2001. One of my sons, who was in second grade at the time, had been asked to make a paper leaf representing his favorite book. The leaves were to be attached to an artificial tree in their classroom. That morning, parents were invited in to meet the teacher and view the tree. My son's leaf depicted a mother bird in her nest on one of the branches. He had chosen the Bible as his favorite book, and below the leaf he had written, "I began to think of how God has healed me." Little did I—or my son—realize how much we would all need to feel the mothering of God's care later that morning, when the terrorist attacks occurred.

On a more recent occasion, the Bible's guidance came in the form of a much-needed rebuke. I had been training for a high-altitude climb of just under 19,000 feet in Mexico, giving many hours a week to physical exercise, and keeping a scrupulous eye on my diet. My time spent in prayer was being short-changed.

But one day I opened my Bible to this passage from one of the major prophets, Jeremiah, and these words sprang out at me: "Let not the wise man glory in his wisdom, neither let the mighty man glory in his might, let not the rich man glory in his riches: but let him that glorieth glory in this, that he understandeth and knoweth me, that I am the Lord which exercise lovingkindness, judgment, and righteousness, in the earth: for in these things I delight" (9:23, 24).

That was all I needed. I realized that although there wasn't anything wrong with climbing mountains—and preparing by eating wisely and exercising regularly—there was a danger that this might take the place of spiritual training through prayer. I asked myself, "In the midst of all this, how much time are you spending getting to know God and rejoicing in what He has already given you? Where's the balance?"

The wisdom contained in those two Bible verses soon adjusted my perspectives, and I began to read the Bible and Science and Health with renewed inspiration. That Mexican venture proved to be a safe and happy experience.

Whenever winds of discouragement, overload, or fear begin to blow—even if they don't reach anywhere near 231 mph—I look first for the cairns that can bring me back to the peace and safety of God's protection, which is such a prominent feature of the Bible I love so much. css