One bright October morning about three years ago, I was on the back of a mule, descending down a steep trail in the Grand Canyon in Arizona. What had begun as a wonderful adventure with friends had quickly become an exercise in challenging fear.

My mule became fond of inching up to the edge of the precipice and dancing around while we were at rest stops, sending rocks and dirt flying down into the Canyon. Each time she did this, it got more unnerving and I knew I had to decide who was in control. Was it me, the mule, or was it, as I had learned through my study of Christian Science—God? It’s amazing how focused my affirmations of God’s love became in those moments when there was nothing but 600 feet of air separating us from the ground below! I wanted to feel safe.

As soon as I would master the fear through my prayers, my mule would stop for a while—but then try something new. This went on all morning. At lunch I even tried giving her my apple to forge a friendly bond. It didn’t seem to work. Soon, we came to a part of the trail called the “Devil’s Corkscrew.”

The name itself summed up my morning’s ongoing struggle with fear. I remember thinking I was so tired of being afraid. I just needed to take a decisive mental stand for my safety and well-being. I also realized that I had no doubt that the other riders were safe. Wouldn’t God protect me as well?

A turning point came when I stopped listening to the subtle thought that God could play favorites and exclude me from His love. As I mentally turned completely away from fear and focused on God’s supremacy, that was the end of the fear. I completed the rest of the rigorous eleven-mile ride to the ranch where we would spend the night.

But by the time we got to the ranch in the afternoon, I felt nauseous, dehydrated, saddle sore, and saw spots in front of my eyes. It was even difficult to walk. Not feeling well in an unfamiliar and isolated place felt intimidating. And I couldn’t just leave, since we were literally in the middle of nowhere. So I waited in a long line for my turn at a pay phone in order to call a Christian Science practitioner for help through prayer.

Even though I was glad I’d called for prayerful treatment, as evening approached, I began to feel worse. By dinner I was in uncontrollable tears and barely able to eat. So I went to the phone again and called the practitioner. This time he spoke firmly, addressing my concerns with spiritual conviction, and my racing thoughts began slow down. He insisted that I was spiritual and under God’s control, not under the control of a painful circumstance.

After we talked, I wandered up a trail for some privacy and sat on a bench, watching some deer at a nearby creek. Soon, it occurred to me that the deer and I were both in the same place—except they looked so peaceful. They didn’t seem panicked or at all separated from their Creator. In fact, I saw how their needs were being abundantly met even in that sparse desert environment.

In stillness, I watched them graze for about 15 minutes as I thought about how God was caring for them. Suddenly, I was startled to find myself filled with joy, peace and a sense that God, divine Love itself, embraced and cared for me as well. Every symptom of pain and illness melted away immediately. It was like someone had turned on a light and the darkness of pain just vanished.

The rest of that evening was so much fun. My friends and I explored the nature around the ranch, visited with travelers, chased a ringtail (or “miner’s cat”) out of our cabin, and watched a full moon rise and take its place among the stars. The next morning, as we rode out towards the Colorado river, I looked up at the tall, billion year-old granite walls of the Canyon and became so aware that their overpowering permanence was just a modest symbol of God’s great power and allness.

The ride back was filled with joy. My mule wasn’t up to her tricks anymore and it was a perfect day in the most awe-inspiring place I had ever been to.

I learned it’s impossible to get away from God’s goodness. Now, whenever I find my sense of God getting too small, I think back to that trip and I’m back on track again.

Always safe:

Science and Health
392:5-8

King James Bible
Ps. 91:9-14