Article February 13, 2012 Issue

A conversation with 'Someone' I love

An offering for Valentine's Day

By Marian English

Breakfast at our house was a lingering event. Until the last scrap of toast was gone, our family had animated discussions about everything and anything, always ending with a sharing of uplifting spiritual ideas. When our children developed broadening interests of their own, their contributions were usually brief and to the point; then, they were off to tackle the day. That left my husband, me, and our perpetually hungry St. Bernard, who entertained us with her steady, unblinking gaze, often fixed on a doughnut tidbit she knew would eventually be hers. 

I loved those conversations, but I didn’t always realize how much I was going to value them for what they would teach me. They were one of the things I missed most when my husband passed on. I knew that Christ Jesus taught and proved that the continuity of being doesn’t come to an end. Christian Science was teaching me that God is Life itself. But I still missed the talks. 

Late one night, I was startled out of a deep sleep with an intense feeling of loneliness. Surprised at how aggressive it was, all I could utter was a fervent prayer, “Father, help me!” Now God never withholds His healing messages any more than the sun holds back its warmth and light, but my thought was so crowded with the problem that I couldn’t hear His voice—until I did a mental about-face. I turned to God with full attention, as a child turns to a trusted parent. Immediately a question came to thought.

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