Demanding, awakening, exhilarating
My path to Christian Science class instruction, and to the immense blessings that followed, had some interesting twists and turns. Let me explain: Raised in a loving Christian Science family, I breezed happily through childhood, learning to love and apply the truths I learned in Sunday School and experiencing many healings through prayer. After college I began to consider Primary class instruction. Why? Well, mostly because it’s “what you did” in my family. My mom and older sister were class-taught, so it seemed as if I should follow along. Pretty shallow thinking, I’ll admit. Certainly, I loved the truths of Christian Science and desired to learn how to heal better—but those more genuine motives at first took a back seat to some superficial layers of self-will.
So I plunged ahead: How to find the right teacher? That was easy (or so I thought). My sister’s Christian Science teacher was in my home state, but I had moved halfway across the country. Perfect! The yearly association meeting would bring a built-in annual vacation and visit with my family. That’s when things got sticky. In an interview with my sister’s teacher, I hit a bump in the road: He asked if I intended to become a Christian Science practitioner. That question not only frightened me—I was offended! Me? In the public practice? Are you kidding? My self-designed path in life most certainly didn’t include becoming a practitioner. I headed for the door, as quickly as I could.
Some months later I learned about another Christian Science teacher, who happened to be visiting my area. A quiet nudging, which I felt to be from God, told me to request an appointment. We struck a sweet and natural rapport, and when I asked if he expected his pupils to go into the practice, I loved his gentle answer. He said we take many steps in life. If class instruction was what God was preparing for me now, I should follow that leading, trusting that “the steps of a good man [or woman] are ordered by the Lord” (Psalms 37:23 ). God would take care of all my footsteps in life, at His direction, not mine.
Immensely relieved that I was off the hook, and feeling certain I had found my teacher, I applied and was accepted for his next class. The experience was demanding, awakening, and exhilarating. I knew something profound was taking place.
During those challenging, joy-filled two weeks, a classmate asked me one day if this experience was impelling me to consider the healing practice of Christian Science. I tossed the question back to him, and his quick response was, “I don’t see how we could not be considering it.”
When I was back home and into my normal routine, my friend’s comment rested safely on the back burner of thought. But I found that it kept popping up, tugging at me with an insistence I could not ignore. The early morning hours before my young family arose beckoned me to precious hours of quiet study. I found what I’d learned in class had become all-absorbing. I simply had to work more consistently with my pastor (the Bible and Science and Health with Key to the Scriptures, by Mary Baker Eddy) and ponder more deeply the immensely powerful facts of God’s allness and love. Healings followed, and gradually I discovered that those insidious roadblocks of self-will and self-doubt had dissolved. I joyously and confidently acknowledged what must have been there all along—a deep desire to devote my life to the public healing practice. Within a couple of years, I was taking calls for Christian Science treatment, and that was followed by advertising in The Christian Science Journal.
Like Jonah in the Bible (see Jonah 1—4 ), I had tried to hide from God’s direction. But God always wins! No matter how unlikely the path (whether we’re sojourning in a fish’s belly, as Jonah did, or hiding behind a slew of excuses), God’s all-merciful love leads us on exactly the path that He designates for us.
That path led me to Primary class instruction at the right time, with the right teacher, and onward to a joyous and ongoing career in the Christian Science practice. Clearly, I never would have, or could have, done that on my own. How grateful I am!
