For a number of years I’ve enjoyed competing in “masters” (age-group) rowing or, more precisely, sculling. Rowing involves multiple persons each handling one oar, while in sculling one or more rowers each has two oars. In both cases, the rower sits on a sliding seat, and leg strength is very important.

In 2006, early in the year’s training, I began to experience pain and limited movement in one of my legs. I prayed about this, and also asked a Christian Science practitioner to pray with me, but my leg became worse. It got to the point that when I first got up in the morning, I couldn’t take a step. If I needed to get someplace in the house quickly, I literally had to go on my hands and knees. With the passage of a few minutes, mobility would improve, and I would go from a pronounced limp to one that was barely noticeable before I left for work. My more extreme limping reminded me of the limp of an older acquaintance, and I became rather frightened that I was facing a permanent disability.

About this time I auditioned for a play with a company I had performed with before. The audition involved three parts: reading, singing, and dancing. I had to excuse myself from the dancing portion.

I talked to the practitioner virtually every day, and drew much comfort from his uplifted thought. My daily commute then involved about 40 minutes of walking, and I was able to accomplish that, although stepping up on a curb as I crossed a street was a big deal. While I walked I would pray, and my prayer often included phrases from the Bible, from the writings of Mary Baker Eddy, and from familiar hymns. 

I began with one of the ideas in Science and Health, which talks about muscles not being self-acting (see p. 160). I couldn’t tell if I was dealing with muscles, tendons, or nerves, but I knew these statements could be applied to any of them. But the statement I turned to most frequently was: “Let us rejoice that we are subject to the divine ‘powers that be’ ” (Science and Health, p. 249). Sometimes I would just say that to myself over and over again as I walked. 

Mrs. Eddy is quoting there from Paul in the book of Romans: “For there is no power but of God: the powers that be are ordained of God” (13:1). And the context in which her statement appears is: “Let us feel the divine energy of Spirit, bringing us into newness of life and recognizing no mortal nor material power as able to destroy. Let us rejoice that we are subject to the divine ‘powers that be.’ Such is the true Science of being.” 

I focused on the rejoicing. Even though I was not seeing any physical improvement, I was gradually becoming more convinced of the reality that there could not be any power but of God—and that was something to rejoice over! Implicit in that, of course, is that God is good, and I had no doubt of the essentiality of that fact. Also Hymn 139 from the Christian Science Hymnal was a frequent companion. The first verse reads:

I walk with Love along the way,
And O, it is a holy day;
No more I suffer cruel fear,
I feel God’s presence with me here;
The joy that none can take away
Is mine; I walk with Love today.
(Minny M. H. Ayers)

I realized there was a “divine energy of Spirit”—and I was feeling it as I had felt it and experienced it many times before, and I gradually lost my fear.

Two months after the auditions for the play, rehearsals began. Rehearsals always got started with stretching and dance moves, and many of the exercises I could not fully perform, although I did the best I could. 

My rowing was also severely curtailed during that period, and I missed the early season races. I had learned to be willing to let the rowing go, but I had come very close to winning the national championship in my age-group and weight class the year before, and I had been looking forward to taking another shot at it.

I continued to work with the practitioner, to pray, and to rejoice. Sometimes it took a little effort to rejoice—not in the sense that I had to force it, but in the sense that I had to move my mental frame of reference from one that had slipped into accepting the material evidence of disability as real, back to remembering that the essence of reality is depicted in the statements of St. Paul and Mrs. Eddy referred to earlier. When this mental altitude was recovered, rejoicing was easy.

About a month and a half after rehearsals began, the play opened. The run lasted five weeks, and we still began preparation for each performance with stretching. At some point during this time, I noticed that I could do all of the stretching and dancing without pain or restriction. I was ecstatic!

I ramped up my rowing, but decided to skip the upcoming Southwest Regional Regatta because of my lack of conditioning. But a friend asked if I would race with him and two other men in a “quad,” at the regatta. I had a sense that this was a little message from divine Love not to limit myself, so I agreed. I decided to enter the single event as well. The quad was fun, but to my surprise I won the single rather handily. That encouraged me to go to the Masters National Championships the next month, where I did win my event.

To go from disabled to free, from fearful to confident in God’s goodness, and to recognize that the same kind of persistence could be applied to prayer that I was already accustomed to applying to rowing, were the blessings of this experience. It doesn’t get any better than that.

Daniel Bort
Richmond, California, US