After spending a few hours journaling at my favorite café—exploring ideas that kept coming to mind from the phrase “the true consciousness of Life as Love”—I was planning to go to a nearby Habitat for Humanity Restore to find treasures of another kind.

The phrase is from Mary Baker Eddy’s book Science and Health with Key to the Scriptures, and before leaving the café, I decided to think more about the complete statement that it comes from, which conveys an intriguing lesson: “Mentally contradict every complaint from the body, and rise to the true consciousness of Life as Love,—as all that is pure, and bearing the fruits of Spirit” (p. 391). 

The various meanings and synonyms of the verb bear, including bring forth, carry, and hold (vocabulary.com), captivated me. Even more so the author’s use of the word body first and then consciousness—suggesting the natural demand to recognize Life, God, the substance of my life and everyone’s, as not a physical body but rather as consciousness itself. This recognition in turn requires purity of thought and action. The idea of rising above what appears humanly was so elevating and freeing, for the demand connotes our ability to rise out of the belief of existence in materiality. 

I walked into the store, affirming that only God’s goodness had taken place, not a stumble. 

Though I was not specifically aware of it, those ideas must have filled my thinking as I drove to the thrift store, which was housed in an old building with an entryway composed of two doors separated by a few feet of concrete flooring. As I pulled the first door open, I was distracted by a group of people exiting and caught my foot on the step. I landed hard on my knees on the concrete.

Quickly I saw that there was nothing I could take hold of to lift myself. The pain was intense, yet I wasn’t afraid. In retrospect, I believe this is because I palpably felt the presence of God’s care; there’s no other explanation.

And then I experienced holy humanity in action: a beautiful man extending his hands to pull me up. Was that not as Jesus commanded us to love—to do unto others as we would want them to do to us? The man asked if I was OK. I said yes with conviction and was able to calmly place my hand on his arm, look into his eyes, and say thank you.

I walked into the store, affirming that only God’s goodness had taken place, not a stumble. Thinking about this later, I realized that Science and Health’s assertion “Accidents are unknown to God . . .” (p. 424) is actually law. Interestingly, during my prayers at the thrift store, that sentence hadn’t come to mind, which decidedly shows me that the validity of every truth taught in Christian Science is linked to that of every other truth.

I assured those who had seen what happened, “I’m fine”—even as I felt one knee swell and then just as quickly felt the swelling go down. And although at first my leg throbbed with pain as I limped, soon, as I made a circuit of the small store, the pain vanished completely. Not only that, but I was never shaken, nor did I feel any aftereffects except recognizing the need to be more alert in acknowledging the actuality of spiritual law. 

As usual, I was delighted with my store finds, but mostly I delighted in God’s gift of His perfect, permanent presence—further proof of how each moment of pondering and praying with truths of God’s goodness is a gift for the next moment.

Seems to me that every statement in Science and Health irrefutably proves the law of God’s reliability. After all, the psalmist declares, “Where can I escape from Your spirit? Where can I flee from Your presence? . . . If I take wing with the dawn, . . . even there Your hand will be guiding me” (Psalms 139:7, 9, 10, Jewish Publication Society Hebrew-English TANAKH).