Two years ago, I started to develop a cough. At first it came on just a few times a day, so I took little notice. But as time went on, the coughing became more frequent—sometimes several times an hour—and I began having difficulty breathing. I still wasn't alarmed, and ignored it. Although I did my best to pray about it in the way I'd learned in Christian Science, the difficulty got steadily worse. After four or five months, sometimes I felt I was losing consciousness in the night.

To please members of my family, who are not Christian Scientists, I agreed to consult a doctor. She was a lovely, caring person, and sent me for a battery of tests and X-rays. I was told I appeared to have a lung infection or was experiencing the onset of allergic asthma. They gave me medication, which I took for a time, but to no avail. Instead, I found it increasingly difficult to breathe through my nose, which bled profusely, and my voice became a croak.

Finally, I did what I wish I'd done in the first place, I contacted a Christian Science practitioner for help through prayer. Between croaks and wheezes, I told her what was wrong. After she'd listened quietly for a while, she asked me why I was so angry. I laughed and said I wasn't angry—just a bit frightened because I always seemed to make bad decisions. Eventually I realized that she was right. I was angry. As a matter of fact, I was furious. I was angry with my family. I was angry with myself. But most of all, I was really angry with the appalling state of the world.

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Testimony of Healing
April 16, 2007

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