For 23 years or so I knew myself through the roles I filled: teacher, mother, wife, homemaker. As a lifelong Christian Scientist, however, I had always found great fulfillment in identifying myself spiritually. Three years ago I had an experience that was a turning point in viewing myself from this deeper basis.

Partway into the school year, when our two daughters were still in college, I decided to take advantage of an early teacher retirement package that my school district was offering. But I was surprised to learn that my summer birthday would force me to leave at the end of that same school year in June, rather than the following June, which was when I had planned to retire.

My husband had sold his business years before and become "Mr. Mom," and I was concerned that I might be under his feet, interrupting his routine at home. I wondered what interests would fill my days. Although I looked forward to sharing more time with my husband, I felt I should pray, listen to God, and let divine Love guide me into my own new directions.

That November, several months after my retirement, I slipped down some concrete steps while raking leaves, twisting my body to avoid hitting a large object at the bottom. Unable to get up, I prayed immediately to stay calm and allay the pain, as well as anger and annoyance at myself for having been rushing around. Many spiritual truths from the Bible and Science and Health came to my thought at that moment, and I held firmly to them. I had seen the effectiveness of praying with such truths in so many instances in my life.

My husband pulled into the driveway some minutes later and helped me up. He insisted I have X-rays. So while driving to the doctor's office, I began to pray for myself more specifically. It was clear to me that God knew nothing about a fall. Mary Baker Eddy said in Science and Health that "whatever indicates the fall of man or the opposite of God or God's absence, is the Adam-dream, which is neither Mind nor man, for it is not begotten of the Father" (p. 282). I recall thinking: "What a travesty of God's creation it is to believe His children can fall from grace! God has made me upright, whole, and free. I am God's complete, unbroken idea."

Yet, at the time I was feeling just the opposite—that I was without purpose and that I needed someone else and something else for my completeness. I had been wondering, "If I'm not a teacher anymore, who am I?" AS I thought more about this, I realized that my identity had nothing to do with a human role, but with my relationship to God, who knew me as His complete, whole child. Gradually, I felt embraced by this divine Love as my husband and I headed to the doctor's office.

Although I wanted to continue relying on prayer for healing, I was willing to have a bone set if that was necessary. While waiting for the orthopedist, I decided to call a Christian Science practitioner for prayerful support. In my purse I had the full text of the Christian Science Bible Lesson for that week, which I reread, and this reassured me of God's love for me.

The initial X-rays showed no breaks in my leg, but found two fractures in my shoulder. My husband and the doctor examined the film. I continued to pray. The doctor ordered an MRI to determine whether surgery was needed to align the fractured bones in my shoulder. Two days later, with the results in hand, the doctor said I was lucky and that surgery wouldn't be necessary after all. The breaks now seemed to be in a place where they might naturally knit, which I attributed to prayer. He laid out a program that involved regular office visits, then physical therapy three times a week. My recovery would take a full year, he predicted, and he cautioned me that he couldn't guarantee I would have full use of my arm.

When I returned home, at first I could do nothing but be still, since I could barely move. What I soon realized was that more than physical stillness, I needed spiritual stillness—to quiet every suggestion of the carnal mind that was coming to me, saying I was useless, in pain, and helpless. What I needed to do was to "be still, and know that I am God" (Ps. 46:10). I was God's child, and I needed to cherish every spiritual quality that I had as His expression. I didn't need to worry about what human roles I was filling. It was enough just to be God's spiritual idea.

During this time of praying more deeply about identity, I started cherishing my home, myself, and my family more. My fear of being stuck at home in suburbia, with not as much money to play with as I would like, gave way to gratitude for the beauty around me, which I recognized as an expression of God, and gratitude for just being able to move with more freedom each day—and, within a short period, to walk without a problem. The words from two loved hymns in the Christian Science Hymnal were especially helpful, and kept me on track with my prayer and study. One of the hymns begins with the words:

I was most grateful for the practitioner's prayers during this time, and soon I was able to continue praying on my own. As I basked in the fact that I was divine Love's reflection, I felt more and more that my identity and my very being existed in the now, without definition from any occupational role, activity, or paycheck. My identity was not lost; I wasn't someone who had left her primary roles, who was shouldering indecision, lack, and uselessness. Rather, as Mind's idea I was filled with purpose and a commitment to fulfilling God's role for me.

The day after Christmas, a dear family member in another state suddenly needed my help—and within an hour I had thrown a few things into a carry-on bag and was at the airport. I recall that I was unable to lift the bag to stow it away, but that I had the strength that was necessary for each aspect of her physical care for the three weeks I was there. My focus, though, was on seeing her as Jesus would have. Mrs. Eddy said: "Jesus beheld in Science the perfect man, who appeared to him where sinning mortal man appears to mortals ... Thus Jesus taught that the kingdom of God is intact, universal, and that man is pure and holy" (Science and Health, pp. 476—477). This was how I felt I could be of the greatest help to someone I cared for a great deal.

How wonderful it was to bear witness to "the perfect man," to the true identity of all of God's children, including this dear family member. I returned home with joy and gratitude, not realizing until afterward that on the return flight I had lifted my bulging carry-on bag without a thought.

I went back for a scheduled visit to another orthopedist. He confirmed to my husband that I had full use of my arm. Both he and the doctor were amazed, since the complete healing of my shoulder had occurred within a two-month period and I hadn't needed any physical therapy.

Our Christly nature—our identity as God's own sons and daughters—is the only identity worth claiming. Holding hard and fast to this spiritual view of myself is my primary work, and enriches every aspect of my life. CSS