In his Sermon on the Mount, Christ Jesus instructed his followers how to pray in a new way. This revolutionary prayer we know today as the Lord’s Prayer. The first part of the Lord’s Prayer could be called a prayer of affirmation—affirming what God is and how He governs us. The rest of the prayer could be referred to as a prayer of petition, because it includes humble requests to our heavenly Father, the source of infinite blessings.

Near the end of his career, right before his crucifixion, Jesus presented to us another type of prayer. It also started with a humble petition: “O my Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me.” But it ended with these remarkable words: “Nevertheless not as I will, but as thou wilt” (Matthew 26:39). This could be considered a prayer of surrender. Jesus certainly was not surrendering to those who planned to crucify him. He was surrendering to his heavenly Father, God. And he could do this confidently because he understood God as complete goodness and as Love.

Jesus taught us great lessons, but we may find ourselves reluctant to embrace and practice them until we are faced with very difficult challenges. The first time I thought about these lessons was during the 12 months I spent in a combat zone in the northern provinces of South Vietnam.

On a hot night in September, my camp came under attack from enemy mortar fire. I tried to take cover in a nearby bunker as I had done in the past, but got no further than the outer door of my hut. A mortar exploded so close in front of me that gravel and shrapnel from the blast showered the thin walls around me and the tin roof over my head. Without giving it another thought, I turned, dove to the floor, and slid under my bed. Lying facedown, with my fists covering my neck, I felt the earth shake violently around me as more rounds continued to fall nearby. I had been trained by the Army in ways to survive almost any situation. But at that moment, these brought me no comfort or sense of protection.

Over the previous months, I had spent many hours in prayer, trying to lessen fearful thoughts about the war around me and to hold the door of my thinking open to divine Love’s unceasing care. It was hard to do and took constant work, but praying always brought comfort.

It was a prayer without words, a humble submission to the constant presence of God, who was loving and protecting me as well as all those around me.

I studied my Bible regularly and read from cover to cover Science and Health with Key to the Scriptures by Mary Baker Eddy, along with Prose Works, a compilation of Mrs. Eddy’s other published writings. I kept a journal of inspiring thoughts from my reading, and the very first notation I’d written was, “ ‘Love thine enemies’ is identical with ‘Thou hast no enemies’ ” (Miscellaneous Writings 1883–1896, p. 9). This statement helped me to see that I had to give up the belief that I was surrounded by an enemy mind that was constantly working against me and my life. For the next 12 months, I had continued to replace that belief of an enemy mind with a firm declaration that no one is ever separated from God’s gracious love for all.

Then, in the middle of the violence on that September night, facedown on the floor, I felt something deep inside my thought—a stillness, in spite of the roaring attack. I like to think of what I felt as the “secret place” mentioned in the 91st Psalm and referenced by Mrs. Eddy in an item included in The First Church of Christ, Scientist, and Miscellany: “The ‘secret place,’ whereof David sang, is unquestionably man’s spiritual state in God’s own image and likeness, even the inner sanctuary of divine Science, in which mortals do not enter without a struggle or sharp experience, and in which they put off the human for the divine” (p. 244).

After the attack, I walked outside with a flashlight to see what damage had been done. The first five mortars had marched across our camp, with the fifth round landing directly in front of my hut, which was on the edge of the cluster of huts where my entire company had been sleeping. The remaining nine rounds exploded in approximately the same place as the fifth one, without advancing any further. Although there was damage to military vehicles and equipment, none of the structures housing our troops were damaged, and there were no casualties. 

What I remember most about that night was the prayer that came to me. It was a prayer without words, a humble submission to the constant presence of God, who was loving and protecting me as well as all those around me.

Sooner or later most of us find ourselves in a situation where our only option is to surrender. As I learned that night, this doesn’t mean surrendering to some kind of enemy, or to any sort of conflict around us, but to the power of God. I have to admit that at first this type of prayer was not an easy thing to accept, but it was clear that night how effective the prayer of surrender can be. 

It is humility that opens the door of our thought to God’s continuous spiritual inspiration and allows us to trust His infinite love.

I found this lesson especially helpful a few years later, after I had left the Army. I was working in my garden when I suffered a severe injury. Something inside my knee had torn. I couldn’t walk and was confined to my bed. I contacted a Christian Science practitioner, who agreed to pray for me. After a couple of days, there was little physical change. I told the practitioner that I was struggling with the fact that I couldn’t picture how the two parts of the rupture in my knee would ever come back together. He said that it wasn’t necessary for me to know exactly how the healing would take place, but to simply yield to God’s perfect work.

It took me three more days to completely let go—to surrender to God’s loving control and to allow myself to feel that place of stillness within me. I finally realized I had been willfully picturing myself as having personal authority and responsibility for overseeing the healing. Instead, I needed to see and acknowledge God’s law of perfect harmony in operation, and trust it. When I did that, I was immediately healed—I felt an adjustment in the knee, and the pain vanished—and the healing has remained complete and permanent for well over forty years.

I’ve had many opportunities to gain a fuller appreciation of that secret place and a greater trust in the gift of holy surrender. I have found this to be equally important whether I’m praying for myself or for others. If I’m tempted to believe that healing comes from my own strength, intellect, or personality, I need to humble myself and see that all healing comes from our Father, God. Healing doesn’t come without some form of surrender, and there is no surrender without humility. It is humility that opens the door of our thought to God’s continuous spiritual inspiration and allows us to trust His infinite love. 

I’ve found it helpful to remember that Jesus, who changed the course of human history, declared as an act of pure submission, “I can of mine own self do nothing: … I seek not mine own will, but the will of the Father which hath sent me” (John 5:30). God was the guiding and animating Principle of his life.

We all, like Jesus, can humbly accept God’s loving control of His spiritual creation. When we do this, we find both a willingness to listen to God’s commands and our inherent ability to obey them. We also discover the peace, health, and freedom He has given to every one of us.