My 1st Physical Healing

I am relatively new to Christian Science, having attended my local branch church in Bothell, WA, just in the past couple of years. I was not raised in the church, but rather learned about it from a coworker of mine, who is now a dear friend. Before this time, I had heard of Christian Science but hadn’t really known what it was. But as I learned more about the church and about its founder, Mary Baker Eddy, I became more interested and started attending Wednesday evening testimony meetings and Sunday services.

About a year ago, I had my first physical healing as a student of Christian Science: a healing of severe menstrual cramps. This is something that I had suffered from for over 15 years, and that I had just accepted as part of my reality. On this particular day in October 2010, it seemed worse than ever. I was at work and I didn’t seem to be able to do much more than just slump over my desk. Every once and a while I would try to sit up and answer some emails, but it was not a very productive morning at all. I tried to move around a little; I tried to drink some water, but no matter what I did, the pain did not abate.

After about 3 hours of this, the thought came to me to talk with my friend. I walked over, sat down, and shared with her what I was struggling with. This friend took one look at me, gave me a loving smile, and told me that I did not need to believe in this lie of discomfort and pain. She talked about the story from Genesis of Adam and Eve, and how the claim that there was a curse on women from Eve's sin was not true. She said that I did not have to accept this into my reality, and that I was God’s beautiful daughter, wholly spiritual. She reminded me that we were made in the image and likeness of God, and we could trust “God saw every thing that he had made, and, behold, it was very good” (Genesis 1:31). She told me that we were blessed, not cursed, and we didn’t have to put up with anything less than good.

We talked for only about 5 minutes, but when I stood up I noticed that the pain was significantly less. A minute later, it was completely gone. Furthermore, I don't experience this pain anymore, and it has been such a freedom for me.

This first healing means a lot to me as it was a turning point in my study of Christian Science. It was an example in my own life that I could base other healings on, and it has also helped me in talking with other people about Christian Science and its healing effect. Shortly after this healing, I became more involved in church, and am now a member of my branch church and of the Mother Church. I am so overjoyed to have experienced such a wonderful expression of God’s healing love.

One God

Last weekend, I had the wonderful opportunity to attend a church retreat in Toronto with people from all over the world. The attendees are all involved in branch churches in their own communities and also involved in the overall broader movement of the church. At this weekend retreat, which was called a youth summit, I made a lot of new friends, reconnected with people I had met before at previous church retreats/events/church services, and had a lot of great spiritual insights. The theme of the weekend was "Unity: One world, One family, One God." Over the 3 days of the retreat, we kept coming back to this idea of One God, and the One Mind that unified us all; not just those of us at the retreat, but that unified everyone in the world.

I returned back to Seattle late Sunday night, so inspired and amazed at the wonderful weekend I had had. I couldn't wait to share these insights and spiritual ideas with my friends and family.

On Monday morning, I got a text from my mother saying that there had been a stabbing at Snohomish High School, where I had attended, and where my little sister currently attends. (This was a huge surprise, Snohomish is a very peaceful and safe place overall.) My mom's text was brief, just a fragment of a sentence. I quickly texted my sister, who thankfully had her phone with her and who immediately sent me a text back, saying she was okay. She seemed a little shook up, but said that she had gone home early, along with many of the other kids. I mentally wrapped my sister up in a blanket of love, and texted her back telling her how much I loved her. I did a quick search online and read that while 1 stab victim's injuries were serious, both victims had survived the attack.

Over the past few days since Monday morning, there has been such an outpouring of love from the community and neighboring communities. Not just love shown and expressed for the 2 victims, but also for the young suspect who is obviously having a rough time and made some incredibly poor choices. People who grew up in Snohomish but have since moved away have commented on the online news stories, expressing their love for the community and everyone who still lives there, the high school, the teachers and students, and anyone else involved. Neighboring high schools, rivals when it comes to football and soccer games, have sent over huge signs, filled with signatures and notes of support and love. A fund has been set up for people to donate to help the 2 victims and their families. A big boulder in the town, which is frequently spray painted to advertise upcoming football games/birthdays/events, now says, "Small town, big heart." And, yesterday, the rival high school decided to show solidarity and support for the students and staff at SHS by wearing SHS's school colors. There are pictures on Facebook showing a sea of students, all dressed in red, black, and white, and raising their arms towards the camera for the picture. These pictures brought tears to my eyes. The caption of one of these pictures reads, "2 schools. 1 Snohomish."

Last night I was thinking about this expression of unity, of 1 town, and how it related to the weekend summit's theme of 1 God and 1 source of good. We all come from 1 source, we are all made by the same Creator, and we are all created to be reflections of God. As Genesis says, "Let us make man in our image, after our likeness" (Gen. 1:26). If we are all made in God's image, we all share the same God-like qualities and can express those qualities. The qualities of love, compassion, tenderness, generosity, and many others are certainly being expressed through the support of members of the community and surrounding areas. And what I love seeing is how that love and support and compassion extends to the young girl who hurt the 2 other girls... The entire high school and the entire community is wrapped up in this love, inclusive and not leaving anyone out. What a beautiful reality of truth, that nobody can be outside of God's love and care.

This unity is healing. It has already brought people of the community together, and already promoted feelings of love and affection for everyone involved. In just a few days, there has been such an outpouring of love. There have been so many true examples of these wonderful God-like qualities... the same God who created each and every one of us to be expressions of these qualities.

A Language of Love

Yesterday as I was driving, I was listening to my Farsi audio lessons on my car stereo. At one point, a Persian woman's voice joined in conversation with the Persian man who had thus far been leading the audio lessons. As soon as she started speaking, I was taken aback, as her voice sounded just like the voice of my best friend's mom. There were slight differences, but the similarity was so strong that I had to turn the stereo off for a minute to let my brain process this new information and the sudden memories I experienced in that moment. I wasn't sure what I was going to do next; but for that moment, I needed it to be quiet.

Here's some background:
One weekend in 2002, my Persian friend needed a ride to her parents' house up in Vancouver, Canada, and I was more than happy to take her there. Our college was a mere 20 minutes south of the Canadian border, which made the entire trip less than an hour long. She asked if I wanted to spend the weekend with her and her family, and I thought that sounded wonderful. She is such a lovely, fabulous friend, and I was excited to meet her family. Well, to make a long story short, I spent many weekends there, and grew closer and closer to her family. I started to pick up some Farsi, and then actively studied it so that I could communicate with my friend's grandmother, who didn't speak much English. I also loved to talk with my friend's mother, Atefeh, who was always so impressed with each new word and phrase I learned; her encouragement and delight with my progress in the language were what made me want to learn as much as I could, as fast as I could. And I not only enjoyed learning the language, but also just listening to it; at the time, to me Farsi was a language that was spoken by a woman who had so much love in her, so much love to share with people, and who was a light to those around her. In that sense, Farsi was a language of love for me. It was a sense of love that constantly called out terms of endearment such as, "Pisheh man," "Batcham," and "Azize delam." The very sound of it was like a big hug that wrapped me up in warmth.

In 2007, Atefeh became suddenly ill, and passed away 6 months later at the age of 57. I took it pretty hard. I didn't feel much of anything for 3 weeks; I was walking around in a haze. I don't even remember much of that time, except that there were a lot of visitors, and a lot of tea. LOTS of tea.

During that time, I worked with adult ESL students, many of them Iranians. Before, when Iranians would come to our office and to our classes, it was as if my soul would light up. I quickly would walk over and strike up a conversation with them. I was often called to our office lobby to translate for them as they were signing up for classes, and also just to give them a sense of comfort or of comraderie if they were nervous about the test-taking process to get into the classes. I loved these interactions. However, after Atefeh passed away, I dreaded being called into the lobby and having to speak Farsi. It was like my brain suddenly rejected Farsi, and I couldn't stand the sound of it anymore. My thinking, however erroneous, was that I didn't want to hear Farsi unless it was coming out of Atefeh's mouth. Otherwise, it just made me cry. I wanted her to be the one talking to me in Farsi, wanted her to be the one saying, "Ofareen!" or "Ghourbounet beram", or the dozens of other loving things that just flowed out of Ati's mouth when she spoke to me. As loving as my Persian students were and as appreciative as they were when I fumbled through my Farsi in my attempt to help them, my heart wasn't there. Or, maybe it was there too much; every word, every sound, and every Persian-style gesture that my students demonstrated as I talked with them was so painful for me. As soon as I could, I would retreat from the lobby back to my office and then try to shove the Farsi out of my brain as quickly as possible.

As time went on, the pain lessened and I was able to communicate more effectively in Farsi, with both my students and with my friend and her family. I didn't strive to learn new Persian words as I had before, but the sound of Farsi became like a beautiful song to my ears once again. I started listening to Googoosh (a Persian singer) again, I attempted some conversation with my friend, and I didn't have that same sense of sadness anytime I was newly introduced to someone from Iran.

After a year or two, I started becoming more involved with Christian Science. I had been introduced to CS by a coworker and dear friend, and started attending Wednesday evening testimony meetings and then eventually the church service on Sundays. And I started feeling a sense of healing in regards to Atefeh. One significant point of healing was a year or 2 after she passed away, when she appeared in my dream one night. She was smiling and laughing, and I remember that she came up to me and gave me a big hug. With that hug, I suddenly realized that she had not gone, that she had always been there. In that moment, I saw that the idea that she was no longer with me was a lie. It was as if a horrible untruth had suddenly been exposed for what it was, and the glorious, correct Truth was standing in front of us in the form of her presence! She was right next to me, she was in my heart, she had been there the whole time, and she always would be. That next day, I gave a testimony about this dream at a Wednesday evening meeting at the church. This dream was a revelation to me.

A few months later, I started talking with a Christian Science practitioner for help with the lingering feelings of grief and loss. We talked about Atefeh, about how she was always with me even when I couldn't see her, and about the love that she gave me. We talked about how this love was God's love, reflected through her onto me, Father-Mother Love. Through this time, I gradually started wanting to learn and speak Farsi again. It just seemed like something I wanted to do, something I had a desire to do. And it was the first time in almost 3 years that I truly wanted to continue my Farsi study again. Talking with this practitioner and feeling the overwhelming sense of God's Love and Truth guiding me and our conversations, I suddenly felt that Farsi no longer had the sadness or the grief attached to it; in the past, it had been a representation of such a strong sense of love for me, and what could possibly change that, ever? Love is by definition God, and God cannot suddenly change from something loving to something sad. God is unchangeable, and could never represent anything mournful or filled with regret or loss. With these thoughts, Farsi again became the beautiful language that it had been for me before, a language of Love.

Over the past few months, I have again strived to learn new vocabulary and carry on conversations in Farsi. What was once a joy in my life, learning a new language, has returned and become a joy again, and the sadness that was attached to it for a couple of years has disappeared. It also became clear to me that what was once a blessing and a comfort to me, my love of Farsi and of everything Iranian, didn't change into something negative; I had thought, mistakenly, that when Atefeh passed away, her love for me and her comforting presence left me alone, and the sudden loss made me want to expunge Farsi from my brain. I know now that Love never left my side. It was always there, unchanging and constant, as God's everpresence and steady comfort.

Yesterday in my car, as I was listening to the Farsi audio lessons, I felt again that Ati was there. After a several-year-long hiatus of learning Farsi, when I finally decided to come back to something that I loved, I was blessed with the memories and the effects of her love on my life, and how she reflected God's love. Hearing a voice that was so similar to hers, it was as if she was telling me, "I'm STILL here, STILL encouraging you, and I have been with you this entire time." It just took a decision on my part to return, and the love that I had always felt when communicating in Farsi was right there waiting for me.

God, Vinnie, and me

I recently adopted a puppy from a local animal shelter. After some deliberation and brainstorming, my friend suggested the name "Vincent" for my puppy, and it stuck, but I call him "Vinnie" for short. He is a medium-sized dog, a mix between a yellow labrador and a beagle. He has a lot of energy and always keeps me on my toes. While raising and training a puppy is challenging at times, I am amazed by how much this dog teaches me about life and even about my own relationship with God.

When Vinnie gets hurt or scared, he comes running to me, and he whimpers if I don't immediately notice that he is in pain. He trusts me and knows I will take care of him. I feed him every day, give him affection, create safe boundaries for him, make sure he acts appropriately with gentle but firm reminders about his behavior, and am there for him and with him every day.

Vinnie trusts me and feels secure in my presence. His innocent trust and reliance on me remind me of the reliance and trust that are in my relationship with God. When I feel hurt or am dealing with a challenge, I should be going straight to God, like Vinnie comes straight to me. God is always there for me, always feeds and comforts me, and is with me every day just like I am with Vinnie every day. But sometimes I wonder if I have the same trust in God that Vinnie has in me. Do I pray as soon as I am in discomfort, or do I try to figure it out by myself first, as if I know better than God?

Along the same lines, what would it look like if Vinnie tried to solve all his problems on his own? I imagine Vinnie running out of food, and trying to open the front door of our place so he can run to the nearest PetSmart. Poor little guy wouldn't know what to do when he found out he couldn't turn the doorknob without thumbs. And when he DID get to PetSmart, I have no doubt that he could sniff out his favorite food. But then how would he pay for the food, once he dragged the 38.5 pound (17.4 kg) bag to the counter? I've certainly never seen the little guy sporting a wallet, and I don't give him an allowance or anything.

I start to wonder if I am as ineffectual when I try to do things on my own, without looking to God as my source of good. I just don't have the tools or the resources, much like Vinnie lacks the thumbs, to get the job done or to care for myself effectively. All I need to do is trust in God, and all these things will be provided for. "Therefore take no thought, saying, What shall we eat? or, What shall we drink? or, Wherewithal shall we be clothed? ... But seek ye first the kingdom of God, and his righteousness; and all these things shall be added unto you" (Matthew 6: 31, 33). In my almost 30 years on this earth, I have never suffered from not having something; God has always provided. This also reminds me of a quote in Science and Health with Key to the Scriptures, by Mary Baker Eddy: "Divine Love always has met and always will meet every human need" (Pg. 494).

So is the conclusion that Vinnie is smarter than me when it comes to knowing who to turn to in times of trouble? Quite possibly. But Vinnie seems to demonstrate many wonderful qualities that I would also like to demonstrate. There is so much in him that is God-like; he is so loving, trusting, affectionate, comforting, supportive, kind, and he is always there. I saw a video on YouTube that really spoke to me, about the qualities that dogs have that remind us of qualities that God has. The link to the video is here. One of my favorite lines of the song in the video is, "They (God and dogs) would stay with us all day; I'm the one that walks away. But both of them just wait for me, and dance at my return with glee" (GoD And DoG, Wendy Francisco).

That childlike sense of innocence and trust that Vinnie shows me every day inspire me to relate to God in that same way, without giving a second thought to "fixing things my way" or trying to solve problems myself before going to Him. Why wait to run to him? He has been there right by my side for every step of my life, and He will be with me forever. All I have to do is reach out and take His hand.