I have been healed of recurring sore throat; the effects of puncture wounds from a rusty barbecue fork being accidentally imbedded in my foot; colds; deep cuts in both hands and feet; and many other difficulties. The healing I would like to share now is of a problem that occurred while I held a job as an administrator in a facility that was enmeshed in financial and directional challenges. The biweekly board meeting were long and arduous. I was driving a hundred miles a day, often staying the night to complete my heavy workload. At the same time, our younger teenage son had become involved with friends and activities that dismayed and frightened my husband and me. I keenly felt it was up to me, personally, to resolve all these issues and was totally "stressed out" as things got worse instead of better.

When these challenges began to affect me physically, I engaged a Christian Science practitioner to give me treatment through prayer, and I admitted myself to a Christian Science nursing facility, thinking that after a few days of quiet rest, while others looked after my personal needs, I would resume my normal routine. Those "few days" turned out to be seven months of extreme physical, emotional, and mental troubles. The main bodily dysfunction was an apparent inability to digest food properly, along with many other symptoms. I lost a great deal of weight, and much of my hair fell out. At one point, friends and family feared that I was passing on.

Although I seemed to be in the pit of hell much of those seven months, there were incredibly inspiring experiences as well. One of these came after weeks of struggling with a relentless temptation to go get X-rayed in an attempt to put a name to what was troubling me. When I finally told the practitioner this, he glanced out the window into the gathering early evening darkness. Then he quietly told me I could certainly do that if that's what I wanted to do. But he urged me to think about it for a minute, pointing out that because they only show images of matter, X-ray photographs can't indicate reality. He asked if I really wanted more images of matter in my life. I didn't, and with a smile of relief, I thanked him.

I was now able to turn my thought away from wondering what might be wrong with me back to the spiritual facts of what is right with me as God's child.

Another sweet release came when this same practitioner called my attention to the fact that while my attempts to cool my overheated body with cold showers were only bringing temporary relief, I had the balm of Gilead permanently available if I would learn to "drink of the river of thy [God's] pleasures" (Ps. 36:8). That was the end of the cold water—and of the fevers.

One of the most precious lessons learned during this long struggle was to let go of self-imposed feelings of false responsibilities and trust God's ability to guide all His children. This came in the middle of one sleepless night when I found myself thinking about the Biblical account of Christ Jesus' raising of Lazarus from the tomb (see John 11:1–44). For years I had been grateful for Jesus' unique (to me) approach of thanking God before any healing had taken place. But this time I began thinking for the first time about Lazarus's part in this demonstration.

When Jesus called, Lazarus didn't have to respond; he could have just lain there, all bound up in grave clothes—after all he'd been dead four days. But Lazarus heard Jesus, and in obedience he rose. He came forth into renewed life as an awe-inspiring example to those gathered outside that day, and to those of us reading about it some two thousand years later.

Suddenly, with great certainty, I knew that I, too, could claim my heritage as the ageless, deathless idea of my Father-Mother God. I humbly realized that everything at home and at work was, and always had been, totally, absolutely, safely, under God's control, and that I could quietly, calmly, and confidently trust Mind, God, to reveal to others what needed to be done without my indulging in a heavy sense of personal burden. My responsibility was to respond to the spiritual truths I was gaining through the study of Christian Science and to come forth from the entombing lies of material existence.

As the full impact of these and other lessons I was learning took root, healing steadily progressed. I was able to go home to my family's care. I resigned my job and turned the major responsibility of our son over to God and to my dear, capable husband, striving to continue to love, support, and appreciate all involved. I rejoiced in watching a stronger relationship develop between father and son, which benefited both. Some months later, I applied for and was ultimately hired to return to the demanding and rewarding work environment of an administrator's position, though with a different organization in another part of the country, where we relocated when I was given the job. I am still loving my work, and am humbly able to carry it out eight years later.

I am deeply grateful to be a student of Christian Science, which embraces the precept that as the spiritually perfect children of God, we honestly need not "fear what flesh can do" to us (Ps. 56:4). I am also grateful for the faithful practitioner who unfailingly treated me through many dark hours; for the gentle Christian Scientist "angels of mercy" who nursed my every need and saw only my divine sonship while I was under their care; for my patient, loving husband; and for my niece who, though not a Christian Scientist, cared for me at my home.

Through the completeness of this healing experience, I feel I've glimpsed some of the meaning of the Bible's ringing declaration "With God nothing shall be impossible" (Luke 1:37).

Aileen M. Cord
Tigard, Oregon