The care that never leaves us
There I sat, on a sheet of ice in the middle of the street in front of our house. My dog strained at the leash, anxious to get across the road to the deep snow for a good romp.
It was the second time in a couple of weeks that I’d found myself sitting, stunned, on glare ice. It had been an uneven winter of snow, ice, and freezing rain, but I couldn’t stay inside because my dog loved her six o’clock walks! This winter was different from previous ones, though—my husband, my soulmate, had passed on a few months ago and I was having a hard time being alone, especially if I had a fall or an emergency. Usually he would be with me, I reasoned, not only to pray with me, but to bring me hot soup while I rested on the couch. I knew I had to get over this fear of falling and being alone, and wishing someone was there to take care of me.
The first time the ice fooled me, I moved with great difficulty afterward, walking and sitting slowly. I knew that God, my Father-Mother (Mary Baker Eddy defines God, in her spiritual interpretation of the Lord’s Prayer, as “Our Father-Mother God, all-harmonious” [Science and Health with Key to the Scriptures, p. 16 ]), had not abandoned me. But as I carried on my daily activities, from quietly sitting in a chair to driving or even looking forward to a trip that would require long plane rides, I couldn’t seem to move or sit without a lot of pain. I called a Christian Science practitioner to pray with me. When she heard my description of the fall on the ice, my movements and difficulties, she reminded me that what had happened was a “nonevent.” In other words, God’s plan—the only reality—never includes my falling out of His love and care! Wow. I set about to stop focusing on and talking about the fall, and instead to think about my God-given dominion and the blessings of freedom and ease that She gives me.
The next several days were filled with activity, preparation for a trip, and movement and freedom. I was so grateful. So when the second ice sheet surprised me in the middle of the street a couple of weeks later, I said: “Nope! This is a nonevent!” I was spiritually armed and ready and didn’t slow down. I loved that my busy college-aged children were ready with text messages for me and even a surprise visit home to check on Mom.
A friend who was looking forward to having lunch with me that day supported me with compassion, an arm to use as we negotiated icy sidewalks, and this uplifting thought: that as shadows come into contact with one another and no harm ensues, so the impact of material objects in what is called an accident makes no impression on the true consciousness—because in the realm of Spirit, nothing has happened! Thinking about this idea, I was reminded of the nonevent—in God’s realm, no accident or injury has occurred! I went to sleep that night resting assuredly in God’s loving arms, and had a pain-free night. And when I awoke, I was ready for an active day, which included driving, church work, leading a book club, and participating in a late-night meeting. Since an accident hadn’t truly happened, could I be anything but active?
My fear of being alone was replaced by all kinds of evidence of good.
Finally, the fear of being alone—the angst that there would be no one there for me, to help me, comfort me, or give me a boost up—was healed, too. I loved the story in the Bible about Jesus encountering the widow woman who was following the funeral procession of her dead son (see Luke 7:11–16 ). Jesus had compassion on her, but didn’t join the funeral entourage as was the custom. Instead, he gently told the mother not to cry. Jesus didn’t see her as a widow, or as lacking anything. Jesus then raised the son back to life and restored him to his family. Just as Jesus never saw a widow, he never saw a dead man! As Mrs. Eddy reminds us, “Jesus beheld in Science the perfect man, who appeared to him where sinning mortal man appears to mortals. In this perfect man the Saviour saw God’s own likeness, and this correct view of man healed the sick” (Science and Health, pp. 476–477 ).
Suddenly, like the widow in Luke, my inner yearning and sadness, my feeling of being alone, was replaced by all kinds of evidence of good. My son was suddenly in the house for the first time in three months, just when I needed someone to fix me supper. A friend was there to offer his arm and encouraging words as we negotiated icy sidewalks. My daughter texted me with inspirational ideas to keep my thoughts moving and elevated. A precious friend at church slipped me a note after the service with words warm and assuring—a virtual hug. And in the midst of the next big snowfall, as I engineered into our slippery subdivision, there was my neighbor shoveling my driveway! Alone? Not a chance! The angels of God’s love were with me each step of the way.
Now, as winter winds down, and buds and blossoms poke their heads up to greet my dog and me each morning as we venture outside, I give gratitude for the events in my day, and for God’s care that never sees me fallen or alone.
