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Preface
As a freshman in college, I began questioning the value of Christian
Science. My parents had me enrolled in Sunday school since the
age of two, but now it was time to make my own decisions, so,
to be fair, I made myself a promise - I would pray about everything
for one semester and then judge its value. The following experience
occurred shortly after I had made that promise.
I had driven home from college one cold winter night. The following
day, I needed to work outside, and it was well below freezing.
By the time I had finished, I was soaking wet and half frozen.
Sometime during the night, I was jarred out of sleep with all
the symptoms of pneumonia. I was desperate for air. There was
almost no breath to call out for help. No one could hear my distress.
Within moments I began to fear that I would not survive. I slumped
down into a chair, mentally grasping for any idea that I could
hold on to. Only one simple thought came - one that I had heard
since childhood - 'I am the child of God.' I can honestly say
that I had almost no idea what those words meant, but this was
a desperate time, and it was all I had. My prayer was very simplistic.
I used this statement like ammunition. Pain argued,
'It hurts,' and I mentally demanded, 'But I am the child of God.'
Fear said, 'You are going to die,' and I insisted, 'But I am the
child of God.' Over and over I fought against my distress. This
was war! The battle raged on for quite a while, but I did not
desert
my post. I probably affirmed that I was the child of God a thousand
times. After a while, I lost all awareness of my body
and surroundings; pain was just floating out in front of me like
a separate entity, but I kept holding my position until that,
too, gradually subsided. All was still and silent. I was unconscious.
Then, all of a sudden, as if someone had
snapped their fingers,
I was wide awake and in exactly the same condition that I was
before the mental war: I was still slumped in a chair, and I still
could not breathe. But after a few moments, I felt a sensation,
like a gentle wave, as the fluid in my lungs passed right through
the front of my body and disappeared. I stood up completely well.
In awe of what I had just witnessed, I asked myself, 'What does
it mean to be the child of God?' I did not have any clear answers
but was now ready to explore why calling myself the child of God
had such power. It was significant to me that I was not healed
in my sleep; I was not supposed to miss the experience of feeling
God's grace.
This is the first healing that I experienced
with my own prayer.
George Denninger ©
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