"dreaming of elephants..."

"Oh dreamer,
leave thy dreams
for joyful waking..."

My sister-in-law, Lisa Redfern's recording of "Oh, Dreamer,"  is the perfect accompaniment for this post. And, I so love her voice.

Two weeks ago I was facing a demanding travel schedule. In order to be at the airport early on the day of my departure, I made plans to drive over the pass the day before, have dinner with my sister, and stay the night with her and her sweet husband.

After a lovely evening we all turned in and I was grateful to fall asleep quickly and peacefully -- as I was anticipating very little sleep during my 25 hours of in-flight travel the next day.

About two hours later I woke with a start. I was feeling the symptoms of something coming on. The symptoms were aggressive and the thought of heading into that demanding weekend-- so physically challenged -- was alarming. Immediately I began praying for clarity and freedom. Although the symptoms persisted, my prayers were actually quite joyful.

At some point I must have dozed off in the middle of my prayers because again, I woke with a start. This time I was drenched in a cold sweat. "Oh my gosh," I thought, "I don't want to disappoint Alison." Alison is the Ranch Director at a summer camp near our home in the mountains. I'd dreamed that I was supposed to bring two elephants from camp to the Denver airport for her, and I couldn't figure out how to fit them in my car. The feeling of panic was visceral. It had woken me up, and I was actually -- physically -- covered in damp perspiration.

Then, within moments, I was fully awake. Whew!  I was in my sister's house. There were no elephants. I had not promised Alison that I would bring two elephants to the airport.  Because, there were no elephants. I sat up and giggled quietly. It was just what I needed.

There were no elephants -- and there were no symptoms. Both were dreams that I could wake up from. Within a few moments the perspiration had dried, and I realized that I was also fully free of all of the symptoms that had seemed so real only an hour before.

Over the course of that weekend, there were many issues that presented themselves for healing. Each time I reminded myself:

"there are no elephants..."

And each time it broke the mesmerism -- the suggestions that tried - over and over again - to convince me that whatever I was "dreaming," was actually going on. I simply needed to wake up - more fully - to the truth of God's omnipresent goodness and harmony.

It was helpful to remember that panic I had felt that night in my sister's house -- it had felt so real. The perspiration that had drenched my nightgown -- it too had felt so real. But it was all based on a false premise -- the premise that there were elephants that needed to be taken to the airport. And from that premise, the human mind had projected a whole story about how I wouldn't be able to get them in the car,  and how, if I couldn't, Alison would be disappointed in me, and then I would feel horrible for disappointing her. When, in fact -- there were no elephants. Without the elephants, my car wasn't too small, and Alison's disappointment in me vanished.

It's the same when we find ourselves feeling symptoms of fever, or pain, or depression. The human mind thinks those feelings are as real as the perspiration that drenched my nightgown, or the rapid beating of my heart. Then it -- the human mind -- works backwards searching for a cause. But just as there were no elephants to legitimize the cause of my panic and perspiration, there was no legitimate cause for the symptoms of illness -- that seemed as real as the perspiration on my nightgown. When I could see that both were a dream, the symptoms disappeared even more quickly than the perspiration dried.

One of the "dreams" I had to challenge on this trip was the one that said, "Kate, you never sleep on planes. It is impossible. Your legs are too short to reach the floor, and the angle of the seat makes it impossible to find a comfortable position.  And since you will have no time to sleep, once you get to your destination you are going to be too tired to do what you are going there to do.   And that doesn't even account for jet lag."

But, as I sat in my seat on the plane that night I thought, "there are no elephants." What that meant to me was that there was no reason -- no basis for -- why I could not rest peacefully on this flight. So I found the small travel pillow in my bag, laid my head back, and within minutes I was fast asleep. And according to the woman in the seat next to me, I slept peacefully -- and without fitfulness -- for the next nine hours. When I awoke, I was rested, and could hardly believe that we were being told to prepare for landing.

So much of our lives are spent in a semi-wakefulness. We go about our day like sleepwalkers. Lulled into believing that we are supposed to transport elephants, over a mountain, in the back of a Toyota. When there are no elephants!

In her primary work, Science and Health with Key to the Scriptures, Mary Baker Eddy offers this profound observation:

"Lulled by stupefying illusions,
the world is asleep in the cradle of infancy,
dreaming away the hours.”

And in her Miscellaneous Writings 1883 - 1896 she further assures us that:

"Waking from a dream,
one learns its unreality;
then it has no power over one."

Sleeping can be lovely, and dreaming fun. But when we are awake, we have the right to be fully awake, and to know that we are awake. It's important to claim our right to leave those dreams for joyful waking.  To rise and sing, "I am free."  We have the inalienable right to know that there are no elephants.

offered with Love,

Kate

"fear has to face the God you know..."

"O my soul
you are not alone,
there's a place where fear
has to face the God you know..."

There are spiritual experiences that defy being framed adequately by words. Mary Baker Eddy once wrote about this inability of words, saying that, "she lisped in numbers, for the numbers came." That is how I feel.

Sometimes it is more the sound of a song, than its words, that represent the heart's story. That is the case for me with this experience. But Casting Crown's beautiful "O my Soul."  speaks to the grace I felt, but can still barely hint at.  There is no way to adequately describe the full breadth of what this healing means to me.  But I will try.

For weeks I was in constant pain. Day and night. Nothing brought comfort or relief. The symptoms were aggressive and frightening. I was being bombarded with suggestions of specific diseases -- names, prognoses, timetables. And as frightening as it was, I had to get up each morning and persevere. I had to constantly ask myself, "Kate, what can you do -- right now?"

This moment-by-moment stepping into what I could do -- was all that kept me from abject terror. I was still a mom with the day-to-day responsibilities of raising our youngest children. I had work that I loved and am devoted to. Patients that I was committed to seeing spiritually. I needed to be able to go on. But it was getting more difficult. Day and night I prayed, claiming my spiritual freedom from the specific symptoms.

When I found it hard to think clearly I called a Christian Science practitioner to pray with me. Her unwavering clarity about my spiritual wellness was a lifeline. I can't tell you the specifics of what she said, but one night it became utterly clear to me that I was playing a metaphysical game of whack-a-mole. I would address one symptom, or suggestion of mortality and physical vulnerability, and another would raise its ugly head. Each symptom brought with it, a whole family of reasons to be afraid. I would get on top of one fear, and another would taunt me anew.

That night, as I was lying in the dark praying, the thought came so clearly, "This is not about what you think you are afraid of, it is all about the fear itself."  Typing that sentence now - and reading it - it looks so benign and so "well, of course -- duh!?!?!?" But in that moment,  it was such a big thought, so radical, so paradigm-shifting -- that it took my breath away.  I could see that fear existed without the symptoms, without the specific suggestions, without any reason for the fear.  Fear was the "enemy," not what I thought was causing my fear. Not what I believed I was afraid of.

The symptoms, the names of the disease, the prognosis, the "what-ifs," the pain that had grabbed my attention and had not let go -- were not the cause of fear. Fear was the cause of the symptoms. Like I said, I am lisping in numbers here. It is so much bigger for me than what I can possibly describe.

In that moment, everything took a turn. I wasn't trying to get rid of a disease, its symptoms, or its evidence -- so that I would not be afraid. I was going after fear itself. I stopped thinking that I was afraid of something. Or that fear was the by-product of a scary physical situation. Fear was the master manipulator -- suggesting symptoms, names of diseases, reasons it all "made sense" : heredity, contact, association. Fear was creating a story that justified itself, and reasons for its hold on my thoughts. Fear was keeping me focused on getting rid of symptoms that fear had compiled, and then added up to present as a forgone conclusion which it called a frightening disease. Fear kept me chasing after decoys. But I was no longer duped, I was going after fear itself -- not its minions.  I knew I was on the right track.

Yet that was only the first "aha" of the night -- the next one was even more vital. And it came so swiftly that I gasped. It wasn't me going after anything. This was God's "battle." God, Love, loved me. Love had never left me alone. Love had never neglected me. John gives us this promise in Scripture:

"there is no fear in Love..." 

The presence of Love in our hearts, destroys even the possibility of fear in us. Because Love is so clearly present in our hearts and lives, fear just cannot be. Love and fear can no more coexist than light and darkness. It wasn't a matter of me loving in a certain way, so that I could eradicate fear from my life.  That was God's province.  I felt love,  I knew the power of love, I had witnessed the presence of love -- therefore fear had never, could never, and would never be able to exist in this Love-based environment. The kingdom of God that is my heart and fills my life. Love destroys fear -- period. And I was as sure of the presence of love in my heart, as I was of my own existence.

Each time a symptom would assert itself, each time the name of a disease would suggest that I was doomed, each time the thought would come, "I am afraid of..." I would reaffirm -- I am not fear-susceptible.  I am Love-based, Love-filled, Love-aware, Love-driven, Love-defined.

I found myself turning to Mary Baker Eddy's autobiography, Retrospection and Introspection, for courage, and confirmation that what I was glimpsing -- was true. In the chapter, "The Great Discovery," she writes:

"Science saith to fear, “You are the cause of all sickness; but you are a self-constituted falsity, — you are darkness, nothingness. You are without ‘hope, and without God in the world.’ You do not exist, and have no right to exist, for ‘perfect Love casteth out fear.’" 

She didn't say perfect love casts out disease, pain, sickness, symptoms, etc. But that perfect Love casteth out fear. She didn't say that the patient, or the practitioner, saith to fear, "you are nothingness..." But that Science saith to fear, 'you are nothingness...'' Science is doing all the talking.  Science, the laws of God, saying to fear, you are nothing. Moment-by-moment I felt my trust in this Science -- in this law of God operating, universally and without partiality -- grow and strengthen.

All symptom-based thinking, all disease-based treatment fell away. This had nothing to do with symptoms, pain, or disease.  This was all about God saying to fear,  "you are nothing." Not me.  Fear didn't have to face me, it had to face God -- the God I know to be all-powerful,  ever-present, always knowing Love.  Silly fear. 

And yes, this symptom-based thinking is insidious.  For example:  I remember at one point thinking that I should reach out to someone -- for spiritual treatment -- who had faced the same symptoms or disease, and found healing. As if the symptoms, or the name of a disease, would lead me to a healing perspective, or a healing solution.  As if a disease could inform my search for spiritual tender-kindness, absolute confidence in the presence of Truth.  Those who needed healing hadn't sought out Jesus -- to heal their leprosy -- because he'd been healed of those symptoms himself. They didn't seek him out because he had been blind, lame, deaf, lunatic. Experiencing disease didn't recommend him -- Love did. And his understanding of Love rendered fear nothing.

The specifics of a claim -- poverty, pain, hatred, disease, anger, death -- are distractions. They are not at the root of our fear. Fear is at the root of their symptomology. And fear is nothing. It is without hope -- without God in the world.

This healing has been one of the most beautiful awakenings in my life. And yet, if you had asked me before this experience if I thought that I already understood the truth of this Truth -- I would have said, "well of course, yes..." But I hadn't -- really. And you know, as profound as this insight feels,  I know that this Truth will just continue to evolve and grow even deeper in me.  But tonight, I am just so deeply grateful for what I have begun to glimpse -- day-by-day.  As I said, I lisp in numbers...


offered with Love,

Kate

"where shall the gaze rest…"

"It is well,
it is well,
with my soul…"

When I consider the Truth behind the following healing, I can almost hear Amy Grant's, "It is Well," echoing in my heart.

This healing starts with my friend Emily. One Wednesday evening, she stood up at our mid-week testimony meeting and shared a recent healing she'd experienced.

She said that during an overseas expedition she broke her collarbone. The injury required that she return home early and have it attended to by a physician. She was grateful for his/her kind care. After the initial examination and stabilization of the shoulder, Emily thanked him -- moving forward in praying, exercising movement, expecting healing, and expressing freedom.

And yet, when she later went back for a follow-up visit, the physician was not surprised by what new x-rays reported. The healing was proceeding according to his expectations. There was no exclamation of a miraculous healing. He was not at all surprised by the progress that had -- or hadn't, in his assessment -- taken place.

You may think that this sounds a bit anti-climatic, but for me it was amazing.  It was exactly what I needed to hear. Emily was fine. Emily was the one that was somewhat surprised his assessment. She was pain-free and was able to hike and bike with full range of motion. She was surprised that the x-rays and the doctor's evaluation didn't reflect the freedom that she was feeling.

But isn't that wonderful!  To realize that there was little, or no, correlation between the freedom that Emily was actually experiencing, and the x-rayed image of the bone, or the doctor's opinion. It didn't change the fact -- Emily was free.

I can't even begin to express how much it meant to me that the "body" could be reporting -- through an X-ray -- that nothing had really changed, and yet Emily was free.

It begged the question: "Where are you getting your information from?" and "What evidence are you letting inform your prayers, your hopes, your confidence?"

This realization had an immediate effect on a physical situation I'd been praying about for weeks. Yes, I'd felt the power of the Word in my prayers. I'd felt freedom from the paralyzing fear that this situation was persistent and incurable. I'd felt inspired and clear. But each day when confronted with persistent aggressive symptoms, I'd be on  my knees wondering what more I needed to know, pray, feel. 

Emily's healing gave me the courage to, as Mary Baker Eddy suggests in Science and Health with Key to the Scriptures:

"Look away from the body,
into Truth and Love…" 

Suddenly it became ludicrous to me that I had been looking to the body for an "all clear." I'd been listening for its report, waiting for it to tell me whether I was whole, sound, strong, and free. 

Instead I began asking Truth and Love -- God -- what was true, and what I was capable of. Could I love? Yes. Could I pray? Yes. Was I capable of answering the phone, walking to my office, being still, helping others? Yes.

The body and it's reports of discomfort, weakness, exhaustion -- the chronic rehashing of symptoms -- was no different than that x-ray Emily had been shown, or the doctor's  interpretation of its message.  He assessed it based on his best thinking, but was it true?  In like fashion, I had been looking at, listening to, assessing, and interpreting what my body was saying -- but was it true?

When I stopped asking it for information -- and then giving weight and meaning to that information -- I was free. Free from taking the pulse of the situation, and then determining my peace, my capabilities, or how to pray, based on its report.  I stopped trying to read meaning into that report. And at some point, I realized that I was free from believing that it told me anything about my life.

Elsewhere in Science and Health with Key to the Scriptures, Mary Baker Eddy asks:

"Where shall the gaze rest
but in the unsearchable
realm of Mind?

We must look where we would walk,
and we must act as possessing all power
from Him in whom we have our being." 

I realized that I could - at any given moment - get my information from God, and immediately act as possessing all power from Him in whom I have my being. And I did.

This deeper, Soul-sense has changed everything.  When we are willing to be still -- nevertheless, constant, consistent -- we are going to God for our information, and we know exactly what we need to know.  This report is changeless  -- I am well, you are well, we are well -- whole, pure, complete, strong, kindly-affectioned, God-sent, free.

offered with Love,

Kate