Watching a six-year-old erase the letter L, brush the paper clean, and draw a new one to better fit the OVE she had already written so carefully got me thinking about that L. What had happened to it on paper—its erasure and reinsertion—never actually touched the specific idea of L. External circumstances did not define it or confine it. And it was ready to properly start the word LOVE in the next moment. 

Something so simple can help illustrate the spiritual precept of resilience in the whole of our experience. Given the headlines on health, the economy, the weather, and the environment, the appearance of earthly life seems to be one of fragility. And there are times when it feels as though there is an effort to erase us or to eliminate our voices—individually or collectively. But time and again, we see modest-to-momentous examples of the fundamental indestructibility of God’s universe, including each one of us. 

It helps to have some good friends from the Bible who’ve gone through the worst and come out with solid proofs of resilience to encourage us in our low moments. The Apostle Paul is a go-to mentor for surmounting setbacks and overcoming daunting situations. He’s blunt about the difficulties he faced, writing to fellow Christians about the multiple times he was beaten, shipwrecked, in danger on the road, experiencing hunger and cold, and facing the anger of mobs or the infighting of those around him (see II Corinthians 11:24–27). 

Paul was not fragile. His life purpose was not thwarted. His voice was not silenced. Not because of his own human efforts—he knew those would inevitably fall short, even with the best of intentions. Instead, he deeply felt his own inseparability from God and God’s infinite love, which he had learned of through following Christ Jesus. He also knew that it was the boundless grace of God that had carried him through multiple journeys, estimated at more than ten thousand miles—much of that on foot! 

The Christ message that had transformed Paul’s life enabled him to repeatedly demonstrate something of his indestructible, spiritual nature. Understanding that what we experience is tied to how we’re thinking, he wrote that “to be carnally minded is death; but to be spiritually minded is life and peace” (Romans 8:6). To stay centered on our true nature as God’s children is to begin to see ourselves as entirely spiritual and eternal, as ideas of God, who is the divine Mind of us all. Then we begin to glimpse, as illustrated by that letter L, that human circumstances cannot interfere with—or even touch—who we truly are. And we find the uplift we need. 

In defining our true nature, Mary Baker Eddy wrote that we (individually and collectively) are “the compound idea of God, including all right ideas; . . . that which has no separate mind from God; that which has not a single quality underived from Deity; that which possesses no life, intelligence, nor creative power of [our] own, but reflects spiritually all that belongs to [our] Maker” (Science and Health with Key to the Scriptures, p. 475). 

Ideas are not erasable. God-derived qualities are permanent. Glimpsing these spiritual truths opens fresh possibilities, enabling a beautiful resilience in facing any form of adversity. 

My grandfather had a long and productive career as a chief engineer in a company with a longstanding aerospace contract with the United States military. One Friday, he came into work, only to learn that a new policy was being pursued by the government. The contract had been abruptly canceled, and as of midnight, no further payment would be issued. Of the twelve hundred people in his department engaged in this work, seven hundred were immediately laid off. Shortly thereafter, the whole department was closed, and he too was without a job.

Grandfather was in no way ready, financially or emotionally, to retire. He knew the employment prospects for an older engineer at that time were very poor. He had grown up attending Christian Science Sunday School but had walked away from the practice of this Science as a young man. At that moment, though, he reached out to a Christian Science practitioner, who helped him become more “spiritually minded” and open to inspiration. He began to recognize and value all those God-qualities he had to offer. 

It wasn’t long before he felt impelled to be in touch with a friend, who happened to know of another large company in need of a chief engineer in a related industry. Grandfather was hired, helped the firm innovate and grow with designs he originated, and—by vote of its board of directors—worked several years beyond the mandatory retirement age. That initial, unexpected reversal in his experience, when met with a spiritual response, opened the door to an expanded sense of purpose in his life. 

Like Paul, and countless other spiritually minded individuals who have responded to adversity through prayer that aligns them with God’s ever-presence and all-power, we can discover that we are not fragile. Our true nature cannot be broken by material circumstances in whatever guise they appear. God remains the source of our identity, our purpose, our worth, and our being. We are God-sustained.

Robin Hoagland, Guest Editorial Writer