In the summer of 2006, I began to feel mounting frustration about not being able to complete a growing list of projects—some of which were already underway, and others I'd hoped to take on. I felt I didn't have enough time, help, or money to tackle them all, and it seemed that very little was actually moving forward. At the same time, I began to struggle with sharp pains in my back, as well as in my leg and foot. Sitting or lying down was very uncomfortable, although I found some relief when standing. I hadn't been praying much about my frustrations, but I prayed earnestly about the pain.

Using Christ Jesus as my model, I've come to trust prayer as an effective means of healing, with wonderful results. This time would be no different, I was convinced. A favorite passage from Science and Health with Key to the Scriptures says, "To grasp the reality and order of being in its Science, you must begin by reckoning God as the divine Principle of all that really is" (Mary Baker Eddy, p. 275). To me this meant that my prayers had to consistently and sincerely acknowledge—at the very start—that God is all. Praying further included seeing myself as an individual spiritual expression of that allness, and striving to recognize that "the reality and order" of my being were intact because forever embraced in God's loving government. Holding to these divine facts was reassuring and brought some comfort, at least temporarily, over the next days and weeks.

However, several long-distance trips, which included sitting for extended periods of time and some less-than-comfortable accommodations, seemed to undo the progress I'd made. But there were moments of tremendous joy as well. Gaining the conviction of "God as the divine Principle of all that really is" provided me with glimpses of the utter perfection of His stunning creation as well as the profound impossibility of any situation that could compromise it.

Then I began to study the Bible story of the man Jesus healed at the pool of Bethesda (see John 5:1-9). I looked carefully at how the story described the man as "impotent," or without power, helpless. He told Jesus that "I have no man, when the water is troubled, to put me into the pool: but while I am coming, another steppeth down before me." This was the whole of his life and what he considered to be the only option for his healing: waiting to get into the pool and always being disappointed.

I began to think of those places where I thought I was stuck, without help, as well as my occasional struggles with discouragement. Of course, the many uncompleted projects came to mind. As I pondered how Jesus tenderly annulled the mental sense of limitation that constrained and confined the man at the pool, and revealed to him a completely different model—one of strength and courage and healing—I began to reconsider my own feelings about the tasks before me.

I saw that the constant refrain, "these will never get done," was really only mental in nature, because I realized that God didn't create roadblocks to frustrate us in fulfilling His purpose, nor leave us alone to struggle with seemingly insurmountable obstacles. I decided to rethink my viewpoints. Just like the impotent man at the pool, I'd simply accepted that it was impossible to accomplish all that I hoped to do.

In humble prayer I first apologized to God for not turning to Him in my initial state of helplessness. Then, affirming His omniscience—His total intelligence—I asked for guidance. Several names for God found in the Bible occurred to me: Truth, Love, and Spirit. Thinking deeply about each of these synonyms, I considered how full God's power is and how very much He was caring for me. It was then that I realized that God already knew what to do. These weren't just words; I really felt it.

All at once I began to consider first and second steps, and even solutions to a number of the projects. I also saw that some other activities, which I had only moments earlier considered very precious, could be let go. Writing down the ideas as they came to me, and with tears of gratitude streaming down my cheeks, I quickly filled a sheet of paper.

Both spiritually and physically invigorated, I imagined in small part what the man at the pool of Bethesda must have felt as he stood—perhaps for the first time in 38 years—and picked up his bedroll and went home. The action of the Christ—God's healing truth—had completely dissolved his limited and confining view. I felt equally free. And a few days later I realized that the pain in my back and leg had entirely disappeared.

It's no coincidence that consecrated prayer in one area will bless and transform another. The opening up of my thought through the prayerful consideration of a Bible story enabled me to see that pain was, in reality, only a belief because it couldn't be attributed to God, the all-space-filling Creator of only good. I discerned that I was a complete and whole expression of that good.

The pain never returned, and over the past year, I checked a number of those projects off my list as I completed them. I've also devoted myself all the more wholeheartedly to the study and practice of Christian Science.

MELISSA HAYDEN
SALEM, OREGON, US