"Let's feel what we cannot feel.
Know what we cannot know.
Let's heal where we couldn't heal.
Oh it's a mystery, Love is a mystery.
Oh it's a miracle, a miracle..."
I've already written about this experience in a post from 2009 titled, "And He walks with me..." It continues to inspire me almost daily -- evaporating the mists of pain, lack, fear, inharmony with the sunlight of pure Truth. And in light of some recent realizations I've had about faith, trust, evidence, and the forms that our desires take when we allow them to be moulded and exalted by God, it begs to be re-visited.
There is no obvious or direct relationship between Sara Grove's beautiful song, "Miracle," and this experience. But there is something about the way they both make me feel that connects them in my heart. They beget an effortless sense of trust in God's presence.
Now the story. It started with a fall that left me unable to walk -- or even crawl -- to the bathroom through a long night of pain.
A friend's kindness lifted the burden of how to navigate the logistics of getting the girls to school and caring for our puppy. But I was still in grave discomfort and unable to move after she got everyone out the door. I was alone in bed, the house was quiet, and I could barely think beyond the pain.
But it is what happened in the pulsing silence that still takes my breath away. I looked to my left, and there -- opened on the pillow next to me -- was the full-text of weekly Bible Lesson, a small leaflet-sized collection of Bible verses and inspirational citations from Mary Baker Eddy's Science and Health with Key to the Scriptures.
And one Scripture, at the top of the page -- from the story of Joseph in prison -- caught my eye. It read, "And the Lord was with Joseph."
As I read it, something in me shifted. No, it was not the unnatural alignment of bone in my ankle, or an irritated nerve -- but my heart. I suddenly felt -- with complete confidence -- that if "the Lord" was with Joseph in prison, then of course I could trust that He was with me in my warm, clean, comfy bed.
And I stopped being afraid. Period. It was enough. I knew that if the Lord was with me, there was no better, safer, more wonderful place to be -- in all the world, than right where I was -- every moment.
I knew, without a shadow of a doubt that I was with God. And I knew, that there was nothing more to know about that situation. I never gave another treatment. I rested my case. I returned to that single Truth -- that the Lord was with me -- countless times. And I can honestly say that I never tried to figure out what more I needed to know.
The change in my ankle didn't happen quickly -- or even slowly. But I wasn't concerned. I didn't feel steeped in process -- spiritual or physical. I felt healed of any sense of separation from God. I felt peaceful and confident. I knew I was perfectly at one with my divine Source. I trusted this deep spiritual calm to be all the proof I needed. I trusted that my peace was the evidence that I was whole.
One day, more than six weeks after the fall, I was still on crutches and unable to put any weight on my ankle in the morning. The picture had not changed one bit. But by lunchtime, I was walking freely and not needing crutches or assistance.
I had done nothing more than return to the truth that, "the Lord is with Kate." That thought filled my heart with peace. It was all the proof -- or evidence -- I needed.
It still is. It fills my life.
shared with Love,