It was a modest experience, but it left me with a glow. I'd always been friendly with my neighbor, even though our different schedules meant that we spoke only occasionally. On this particular day, she mentioned that their cat Molly hadn't come home the previous evening as was her custom. Knowing how timidly Molly approached strangers, we both doubted that she would simply have wandered away. After our chat, I affirmed in prayer that every creature's real nature is spiritual. Each reflects God, who is Life. Not one could stray outside divine Life.

Several days later, while looking for what I thought was a bird in my garaged, I happened to look up. Molly was peering down from the opening to my second-story loft. She'd been caught there. I took her in my arms and returned her to my neighbor. She was delighted; she had given up hope of finding her cat alive.

To me the infrequent meeting with my neighbor as well as my presence in the garage, where I don't go daily, seemed more than happenstance. Though I hadn't followed specific commands, I felt that my desire to serve God had moved me. Certainly the Bible assures us, "In all thy ways acknowledge him, and he shall direct thy paths" (Prov. 3:6).

Wouldn't we like to feel we're continually impelled by divine power—instead of our own imperfect judgment or by mere chance, as sometimes seems the case? The fact is, as Christian Science reveals, God's creation is always unerringly directed. Infinite good, which God is, could create only perfect order. There couldn't be purposelessness or chance in His kingdom. Since in reality we're His spiritual likeness, we can't be separated from His harmony. Though the human scene may not seem certain, we can always certain, we can always intuit those steps that serve God's will and experience His direction.

Sometimes divine guidance can seem as clear as a voice. The Bible indicates that, instead of wind, earthquake, and fire, it was "a still small voice" that directed Elijah to act in the interests of Israel (see I Kings 19). We might suppose that if we don't hear such counsel, we're not being guided by God. But that's not the case. God isn't aware of the routine of human living; He doesn't propose a human agenda. He knows only His harmony and His expression. Nevertheless, when we turn our thoughts to Him in prayer, our lives take on more of His order. Whether we heed a strong voice or a gentle intuition, we're moved in directions that allow more of His goodness to emerge.

We might think direction is a matter of finding certain "right" human circumstances amid various "wrong" ones. And certainly claiming God's rule does result in our being where we can do what promotes His purpose. But more important than wondering where we should be is understanding who we are. In truth, we're not well-meaning humans adrift in a sea of uncertainties; we're God-created ideas. God-given purpose and direction are inherent in our real, spiritual identity.

Christ Jesus illustrated this. Since he was supremely conscious of man's oneness with God, divine Mind, he was always conscious of the Father's harmonious order. He simply obeyed his Father's order wherever he was. For instance, he paused to speak with a woman, long afflicted, who had come to him for healing—this even while Jairus's daughter, to whom he was going, lay seriously ill. The woman was healed and so was the girl. (See Mark 5:22–43).

As we, in following Jesus, increasingly understand our real selfhood to be one with God, we'll more readily find ourselves in those paths that fulfill His will. Whatever uncertainty we may feel, isn't part of our true identity; it's a byproduct of mortal belief. The more we put off the fear, selfishness, and willfulness that make up mortal belief, the more assured we can feel that our direction is right. Putting on Christly qualities such as trust, patience, and selflessness, we align our thoughts and lives with the Mind that is God express more of His harmony. In Science and Health, Mrs. Eddy explains, "Accidents are unknown to God, or immortal Mind, and we must leave the mortal basis of belief and unite with the one Mind, in order to change the notion of chance to the proper sense of God's unerring direction and thus bring out harmony" (p. 424).

Understanding our spiritual selfhood, we can trust that we're divinely guided even if our personal vision appears to fail us. I once found this to be true at a time when I had felt spiritually prompted to move in a somewhat unconventional direction. Although the initial sense of guidance seemed full of light and promise, setbacks and severe self-doubts followed. At times the feeling that I'd been following divine direction vanished. But gradually my sense of spiritual selfhood grew stronger. My motives became purer and my spiritual resolve deeper. Eventually, the pursuit again stood forth as having potential for good, and outward events also pointed to its merit.

Even if it appears that we've made an outright mistake, no misstep could be final. That's because God doesn't know mistakes. They exist only within mortal belief. So past misdeeds can be redeemed by our present acknowledgment that God's kingdom alone prevails and by our obedience to His government in our daily experience.

The mistake we must always be alert to is the belief that we're mortals, subject to chance and disaster, sin and defeat. Christ Jesus proved this belief to be false. It looked as though the divine order and harmony he'd brought to light in his healing ministry didn't mean much when he was crucified. The carnal mind with its sheer lawlessness seemed to prevail. But Jesus showed God's order to be inviolable. When he rose from the grave, he proved that the real man is never tossed about by the vicissitudes of material living or the supposed cunning of hatred. Man is spiritual, and this spirituality is a present strength.

In reality every living thing is held within God's holy order. He directs us all. When we blend our thoughts with His, we find the harmony and purpose through which we serve His will.