Three credits short – and a spiritual answer

Seven years of night classes were behind me. My master’s thesis project was completed, and my final oral exam was scheduled when I received a phone call from the dean’s office. “You don’t have a grade recorded for the first class you took in the program,” the woman said. “That makes you three credits short of completing your degree.”

I could hardly believe what I was hearing. My children were coming for my graduation. They already had their plane tickets. Then the severity of the message sunk in. Where was the grade? I made a follow-up call to the registrar’s office. They confirmed: No grade had been recorded, so I couldn’t receive credit. To complicate matters further, the class had been co-taught by two professors, one of whom had become ill and hadn’t been able to complete his duties for the term. He passed on a short time later, and all of his class records had been lost. My graduation was in serious jeopardy.

I thought back to the class in question. I remembered that I hadn’t been too concerned when I first received the grade sheet and it said that a grade hadn’t been recorded “by deadline.” Since it was the first class I had taken in the program, I just assumed the professor had been late with the paperwork. In fact, I soon forgot about the missing grade, and a year passed before I took another class.

But now, faced with the prospect of not being able to enjoy the results of my hard work, it was clearly time for prayer and action. I couldn’t afford to give in to panic and reaction. As I prayed, I began to see that I couldn’t be punished for having done good, scholarly research, thinking, and writing in the class. I felt I had expressed integrity and sincerity in my work, and I knew those qualities were rewarded. God doesn’t leave us “in the lurch” – the authenticity of my expression in this class couldn’t be lost or violated.

In this case, the subject matter was unusual, and I clearly remembered the project although many years had passed since the class had taken place. The course was a cross-disciplinary study of music and literature, and I had written a paper comparing the work of the American composer Charles Ives to that of his contemporaries, the transcendentalists Emerson, Thoreau, and Bronson Alcott. It was a demanding and challenging project, but one in which I felt I had demonstrated good scholarship and contributed some original research.

My prayers led me to make an appointment to talk with the other professor who had taught the class, although I was unable to provide any written documentation aside from my notes and it seemed unlikely he would remember my work after seven years!

Before my scheduled conversation, one of my classmates called me, and when I told her of the situation, she offered to go to her church and light a candle for me as she prayed for me to find proof of my work. I was grateful for her support and encouragement, and I appreciated the symbolic nature of lighting a candle. I began to pray with the idea of “light.”

I was familiar with a number of places in Mary Baker Eddy’s writings where she refers to light. In Science and Health with Key to the Scriptures, she says in the definition of day: “The irradiance of Life; light, the spiritual idea of Truth and Love.” I knew that what needed to “come to light” would, and that it would be in a timely fashion.

I had the scheduled phone conversation with the professor and described to him the highlights that I could remember from my project. To my amazement, he told me he did remember my work in that class. And then he said, “I think Bill [the other teacher] would want you to have an A- for the class. Will that work for you?” Oh yes! The light I felt inside was pure radiance. The professor had the grade recorded, and I graduated on time that spring.

As I think about the series of events in which there were many temptations to let anxiety overwhelm me and threaten the completion of my degree, I also recall the calm expectation of good that accompanied me on that search for a paper trail for something that I had written so long ago. I saw that I’d had numerous opportunities to trust that the right answer would emerge.

When I was tempted to yield to discouragement, I would recall these words from Science and Health: “Wait patiently for divine Love to move upon the waters of mortal mind, and form the perfect concept. Patience must ‘have her perfect work’.” Throughout this experience, “perfect work” was evidenced in qualities of patience, trust, and clear communication. I felt the support of the professor as we pieced together our recollections of the project. His motives and mine were undergirded by a mutual desire for a harmonious outcome.

During the process, one of my friends had suggested that I needed a “miracle.” I again turned to Science and Health, in which a miracle is described as “that which is divinely natural, but must be learned humanly.” This experience illustrated for me the nature of “miracles” – as the coincidence of the divine and the human as evidence of prayer in our experience. The lessons learned in this experience continue to inspire me and guide me whenever I am tempted to believe that there is anything outside of God’s tender care and guidance for each of us.

A spiritual answer:

Science and Health
584:1 The
454:22
591:21 That  

King James Bible
Prov. 3:6