In the weeks after the US-Iraq war began, there was talk of potential terrorist retaliation. Because I work in Washington, D.C.,—one of the targets in the September 11, 2001, attacks—terror alerts and wariness of potential disaster were constant features on my landscape.

Some friends talked about carrying gas masks on their subway commute, in case of terrorism. One said that he wasn't concerned about taking the subway to work now, so much as later. He said, "I'll be worried when people think the threat is over."

Last year, on the first anniversary of the 9/11 attacks, it was easy to wonder if my building might be a target, since I work on Capitol Hill. Despite attempts to think levelheadedly about my situation, I was constantly fearful. Chronic fear is exhausting to live with, and I knew I needed something more than sheer stamina to overcome my anxiety.

That night, as I left work, red splotches and bumps were spreading over my body and were becoming increasingly itchy. At first I was convinced I'd been poisoned at work. My job involves handling mail, and I wondered if I had come into contact with anthrax or another substance. Although mail to congressional offices is radiation treated before delivery, my fears took my imagination for a run.

Although I was disturbed by the symptoms, I knew that if I thought quietly about God and His healing presence, it would help. I also knew that my fear of being attacked was not helping my physical situation, and might even be at the root of the skin condition.

I called a friend who practices Christian Science healing to see if she had some ideas that might help me pray. At one point in our conversation, she said that no matter how afraid I might be of ghosts, my fear couldn't make a ghost real. The truth, she said, is ghosts just don't exist—whether or not you are afraid of them, they are not real.

This analogy broke my fascination with the rash and my concern that I could have been contaminated. Even if I was afraid of the symptoms, I thought, my fear couldn't make real something God never caused, and God doesn't cause or allow disease. As my thinking changed, I relaxed. All the symptoms of that skin condition disappeared as I prayed that evening. The condition reappeared the next day, but prayer brought permanent healing that night.

In light of this experience, I'm thinking more about my mental environment and seeing it as impervious to contamination. Sentinel founder, Mary Baker Eddy, quoting the Bible, wrote: " 'God is Love.' More than this we cannot ask, higher we cannot look, farther we cannot go" (Science and Health, p. 6). Love, then, is present everywhere and is a universal force shaping the world political climate. Love is the sure source of health and well-being. The skin condition has never returned.

As I've reflected further on what my friend said about ghosts, I've seen that fear has no inherent power to make something real. It has only the momentary power we give it by believing its projections. God, the changeless Principle called Love, creates and fills our moments and our days, and His presence is neither diluted nor contaminated.

I've noticed recently how many of my fellow subway passengers spend the morning commute enjoying the quiet and peace of the train. I believe that this peace is our natural, God-given condition.

Piper Foster
Washington, D.C.