Thousands of men and women have fought in Iraq. Millions of civilians have endured the horrors of war. Gradually they are coming home.

Millions are returning home in a different way. These are the viewers who are turning from virtual reality battlegrounds to everyday concerns. Many of us are now leaving our electronic bleachers where, along with the rest of the world, we've been watching for the first time in history, the real time flow of a war from multiple vantage points. Are we, any more than the Iraqi people, going back to life as it was? That's probably impossible.

The world is like a baby awaking from sleep and crying out to be fed. There are those who grieve for lost loved ones, those who feel humiliated, those who have seen their life's work destroyed, those searching for family members.

Some have seen their compatriots fall in battle. We, the observers, have witnessed the anguish, heard the protests, seen coalitions and rifts among nations take form. We are all hungry for more than the peace that's only a hiatus in conflict, wondering how long even the pause in conflict will last.

The prayers of countless individuals of all persuasions have played a vital, usually unseen role in bringing an end to the war. But it doesn't end there. In fact, the most important phase is already underway. The healing process. This process includes far more than the reconstruction of buildings, far more than rehabilitation of families and communities, far more than establishing a new government and reviving an economy.

This magazine's founder, Mary Baker Eddy, having lived through the devastation of the American Civil War, knew well the need we're feeling today. "The poor suffering heart needs its rightful nutriment," she wrote, "such as peace, patience in tribulation, and a priceless sense of the dear Father's loving-kindness" (Science and Health with Key to the Scriptures, pp. 365–366).

Prayer will provide this nutriment. As the rebuilding begins, forgiveness, charity, patience, and an appreciation of each individual's right to be comforted will speed and secure restoration efforts.

The urgent provision of basic daily needs—food, water, healthcare, and shelter, as well as reestablishing basic services—is the immediate concern in Iraq. But relatively few people in the world community will be called upon to respond hands-on to the expanding demand for humanitarian aid. Relief workers and humanitarian organizations need our support and appreciation. Much of the work will be done by volunteers—those willing to leave their homes and personal comfort to aid others.

There is another way to volunteer. The work doesn't require travel or special training, and weather and climate aren't factors. It's the nurturing work of prayer, motivated by an unselfish caring and based on an understanding of the universal and impartial love of God. And nothing—no fears, doubts, attitudes, skepticism, theories, or history—can hinder the tangible results of even a single individual prayer inspired by divine Love.

Prayer is activism. It's an activism that goes beyond mere human affection, as important as that is. It's an activism that is more than being a "do-gooder." Showing affection and doing good are effects of God's love. Prayer that seeks the cause of all things good brings improvement, restoration.

Such prayer asks something of us. It asks one to be humble enough, willing enough, and obedient enough to practice what many believers consider the two great commandments—to love God with complete and unconditional surrender to His government of creation and to love our neighbor as ourselves.

The world wants something more reliable than entrenched opinions. It is hungry for love not hate, security not instability, freedom not domination, unity not divisiveness—in a word, it is ready for peace. Jesus' opening words in what has been called the Sermon on the Mount include this promise: "Blessed are they which do hunger and thirst after righteousness: for they shall be filled" (Matt. 5:6).

Could it be that we have been lulled into dependence on achieving peace, through emphasis on human reasoning, theories, technology, bargaining and compromise, and have underestimated the reach and power of spiritual resources? Material power may produce awesome results on the ground, but the establishment of peace comes quietly into the heart through true rehabilitation, regeneration, restoration, and renewal in individual lives.

Over a century ago, Mary Baker Eddy commented that "material philosophy, human ethics, scholastic theology, and physics have not sufficiently enlightened mankind. Human wrong, sickness, sin, and death still appear in mortal belief, and they never bring out the right action of mind or body. When will the whole human race have one God,—an undivided affection that leaves the unreal material basis of things, for the spiritual foundation and superstructure that is real, right, and eternal?" (Miscellaneous Writings 1883-1896, pp. 340-341).

I've been asking myself, "Am I willing to answer that question with my own life?" The prophet Isaiah offers a direction to take and pictures the results of committing to that way: "And the work of righteousness shall be peace; and the effect of righteousness quietness and assurance for ever. And my people shall dwell in a peaceable habitation, and in sure dwellings, and in quiet resting places" (Isa. 32:17, 18).

Volunteer prayer-work for the world's healing process begins with our own thought. That, after all, is where our world is—in consciousness. A peace-loving heart hungers for unconditional love in all relationships. And actually, it's warlike to harbor criticism, resentment, judgment, or condemnation. The work of righteousness involves nurturing healthful thoughts and winnowing out harmful ones.

Praying for ourselves first might appear to be escapism. And I suppose it would be, if we went no further. But Truth is universal and impartial. A scientific fact doesn't need to know who's contemplating it in order to be true for that individual and all humanity. Whatever we see clearly about God's control in our own life silences fear. It convinces us that God's control is universal, so blessing not only ourselves and those near us, but everyone within prayer's range.

We might wonder, what about the specifics? What should I be praying about? Inspiration comes as human reasoning is silenced. A listening prayer immediately reduces the overwhelming to one simple thought: God, who is good, alone is caring for His own creation. He's feeding, nurturing, loving each one. To those praying, His nutriments come as the exact ideas that will benefit others. We may be like hungry infants crying to be fed, but we are ready for a spiritually mature approach to humanitarian aid.

We are indeed one family. Yes, we're diverse in many ways, but I believe we're moving toward recognition that we have a common Parent. We're increasingly conscious that we are all the children of God in a household that would naturally be characterized by peace and harmony.