WHAT IS IT ABOUT MY RELATIONSHIP with my son? Nine-year-old Michael is often the noisiest, most restless, and most daring member of the family. I worry about him much more than I do about both his older sisters combined. Their turn will come, I guess. But, for now, my prayers relate mainly to fast bike-riding, tree-climbing, and the new threat—rugby.

One Friday evening this past winter, Michael played his first rugby game. For those who don't know rugby, it's like gridiron football without the helmets and padding. Michael was nervous. I was beyond nervous. His school team had had only two coaching sessions, so they weren't properly prepared for what is often considered a dangerous sport, especially when some smooth-faced kid goes down under a mound of sweaty bodies.

Fortunately, my "dangerous" thinking didn't get far before I realized I'd better blow the whistle on myself and pray, by expelling those fearful thoughts as Christian Science had taught me. I could do this before the referee blew his whistle to start the first game.

At times like these, I find there's no way you can just reach up and pull the perfect Bible citation from the air. But I have learned that with pre-game preparation, you can establish a spiritual foundation that provides all the spur-of-the-moment prayers you could ever need. I'll admit that sometimes I'm guilty of letting humbling, vital truths go in one ear and out the other.

As my husband and I stood on the sidelines on that cold winter's evening, I mentally asked myself, "Who's in control?" Answer: The God who is Love. "Who is caring for Michael?" Answer: Love. "Whose son is that skinny, seemingly unprotected nine-year-old?" Answer: Love's.

That's all I needed in those first few moments of play, even though our team was soon in trouble. The opposing teams had been well coached, and included much bigger boys than ours.

Those questions and answers were based on a "training" study of two of my favorite passages from the New Testament: "There is no fear in love; but perfect love casteth out fear"; and, "If we love one another, God dwelleth in us, and his love is perfected in us" (I John 4:18, 12).

If I believe those truths, I reasoned, and truly want to feel that "perfect love," which is part of God's nature—and mine—then how can I let my emotions get the better of me? Right here on the field is as good a place as any to realize that God provides all the strength and resilience I need. His unshakable love is more than adequate to meet youthful aggression. God's love cannot be crash-tackled, tactically outmaneuvered, outweighed, or outrun by any opponent. His conflict-resolving intelligence is always at work. None of us can ever be separated from His love, His care—not even when your head is deep in a rugby scrum! God's love embraces both teams on the field, the referees, and the anxious parents on the sidelines.

When we got home later, I took a moment to consolidate those ideas, realizing that this is often when the real healing is rounded off. I was reminded that Mary Baker Eddy described First John 4:18 as "a definite and inspired proclamation of Christian Science." And she wrote reassuringly: "Every trial of our faith in God makes us stronger. The more difficult seems the material condition to be overcome by Spirit, the stronger should be our faith and the purer our love" (Science and Health, p. 410).

My faith got tried that evening, just as Michael's ability to learn fast became essential. But he showed not only courage, but creative flair on the field that we didn't know he possessed. Our team did surprisingly well. We won two games, and lost two games. And, dare I say it? Yes, Michael scored his first try (touchdown).

But the real touchdown was mine. I got back in touch with so many lessons—lessons about surrendering control to God. Letting go of fears which, that evening, hadn't for a moment occurred to Michael—or his father on the sidelines with me.

I emerged from that rugby game with a far stronger faith, and a purer, more trusting love in the divine Father-Mother. |css