Healing on a ski trip

A couple of years ago, I took a ski trip to the northern US Rockies. On my last run of the day, I stopped to take a break on the side of the trail. Suddenly, and out of nowhere, a teenage boy came careening out of control toward me and crashed into my shins with his skis.

After getting back up, I helped him up, and his brother and I gathered the boy’s gear, which had gone helter-skelter across the slope. I was a bit sore, but felt OK, and the boy seemed likewise. I didn’t hold the incident against him, especially because I knew, with the day waning, the snow had become difficult to ski on. 

After mutually making sure all was well, we parted ways. I finished my run and headed to the car for the long drive back to where I was staying. I noticed I was limping a bit and walking was a little painful. My legs became increasingly painful as I drove, and by the time I reached where I was staying, walking was very difficult and my shins were swollen and discolored. 

As I sat by the fire, I started praying with “the scientific statement of being” from Science and Health with Key to the Scriptures by Mary Baker Eddy. It begins: “There is no life, truth, intelligence, nor substance in matter. All is infinite Mind and its infinite manifestation, for God is All-in-all” (p. 468 ).

Right then, I heard a thud that came from the direction of a big glass door off the living room. I got up, hobbled over to the door, and saw a swirl of tiny gray feathers in the air. I looked down and found a little bird lying, somewhat disoriented, on a snowdrift on the deck. I felt for this poor little creature, who appeared to have a broken wing from crashing into the window, and I started to pray for it by going over “the scientific statement of being.” 

I knew that because God is Life, then this bird expressed eternal and unbroken divine Life. I knew that every idea of God, including this bird, was in its rightful place because we can never be separated from divine Love.

Though I prayed for quite a while, when I looked out the door again, the bird was still there. Then I realized that I really needed to address the belief that accidents are inevitable. 

I reasoned through it this way: I knew both this little bird and I were spiritual ideas of God, Mind. And I thought, a spiritual idea is safe. An idea can’t be thrown against a wall. A spiritual idea can’t be run over with a pair of skis, either! And Spirit is the source of our being. There is simply no intersection between Spirit and matter. Therefore, there can be no collision, no accident. I savored this concept for a while. And as I did, my understanding of life as purely spiritual became so much clearer, and I saw the powerlessness of the false claim of accidents.

Then I walked over to the door, turned on the porch light, and noticed that the bird was no longer lying in the cold snow. I didn’t see him fly away, but all signs pointed to his going “up” since I couldn’t see any animal tracks in the snow. A short time later, I noticed my legs no longer hurt, and when I looked down, they appeared normal. I went skiing the next day with total freedom.

John Kohler
Brattleboro, Vermont, US