I was submerged at the bottom of a ten-foot-deep swimming pool, and my instructor was making demands on me that I felt I couldn't possibly fulfill. My mask was fogged up and pinching my face; my BCD (buoyancy control device) was exerting tremendous pressure on all areas of my upper body. Finally, there was the small matter of panic!

Ending my diving lesson, I climbed out of the pool, removed my cumbersome equipment with great disappointment and no little embarrassment, and retired to consider my predicament.

"Oh, well," I said to myself, "who needs to be a scuba diver anyway?" I could live a perfectly fulfilled life without walking on the ocean floor. My instructor had kindly suggested that it might just not be "my thing." While that was clearly true, all of my family members would be diving during our upcoming vacation in one of the world's best diving areas. Where would that leave me?

What upset me more was my appalling lack of control over the panic that had gripped me, causing me to hyperventilate even before I submerged in the pool. I knew that phobia means "an irrational, excessive, and persistent fear of some particular thing or situation." I couldn't fool myself about the fact that this was what I was facing.

Occasionally since childhood I had experienced mild encounters with claustrophobia. Although I didn't think of myself as claustrophobic, I was aware that some of my family members did. I had observed this condition in one of my parents, but had never really prayed specifically about it. Clearly, I could not overlook the problem any longer.

At this moment a Bible text came to mind: "Be ye doers of the word, and not hearers only .... Whoso looketh into the perfect law of liberty, and continueth therein, he being not a forgetful hearer, but a doer of the work, this man shall be blessed in his deed" (James).

In recent months I had been praying to expose and heal "secret faults" (see Psalms 19:12). At the bottom of the pool, I had come face to face with at least one of these. Honesty compels me to admit that this wasn't quite what I had in mind when I prayed. But I perceived the demand to challenge the world's concept of chronic fear with divine Truth. Whether or not I became a scuba diver was no longer the issue; rather, the need was consciously to acknowledge God's presence as everywhere. While I'd always professed that this was true, I was not acting as though it were.

Later I read in Psalms: "I will abide in thy tabernacle for ever: I will trust in the covert of thy wings." I knew I could establish peace and assurance no matter where I was—even in a hundred feet of water. I also called a Christian Science practitioner to help me overcome the fear through prayer.

It became clear to me that since God is the only source of intelligence, phobic, lunatic, or panicked modes of thought have no foundation, no source or point of origin, because God, good, did not create them. They never were, never could be, part of my true consciousness.

It was necessary for me to admit into my thinking only God's angel messages of His love, power, and presence. I had confidence that if I became a "doer" of the word, actually applying these truths to my diving, I could complete my course with peace, dominion, and control.

I rescheduled the final series of underwater tests, all of which necessitated sitting on the bottom of the pool and working in full dive gear for a period of about four hours. I knew I could be truly comfortable and at home anywhere if I actually felt God's presence with me. One of my favorite psalms includes these comforting words: "If I take the wings of the morning, and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea; even there shall thy hand lead me, and thy right hand shall hold me." I held this closely in thought for several days. I was prepared for total healing, and I refused to settle for anything less.

At the final session, my improvement was monumental. To my amazement I found I was having a great time.

What had changed? Nothing, except my thought. The realization of God's ever-present love had eliminated all panic, and I was free.

Our vacation was wonderful. We all dived together, and I actually found comfort and joy swimming at depths of over one hundred feet.

Diane Trew Funke
Boise, Idaho