Freedom from persistent back pain

About a year and a half ago, I threw my back out and was barely able to move for several days. When I was finally able to get up out of bed, all sorts of aches and pains lingered.

As I turned to God in prayer, which was my choice for treating this condition, I found I was experiencing some relief from pain as well as making mental strides, and I was basically able to continue with my daily activities. But sometimes it seemed as if the progress I was making was slow, as the pain would intensify at different periods.

I’d been praying about this situation for a while. One morning, a complete stranger, who saw me moving very slowly, came up to me as I was leaving a building and said, “Oh, you’re dealing with a nerve situation. It’s connected to your back, and you’d better go check it out.” I knew he was trying to be helpful, so I just smiled and thanked him for his concern. In fact, I was actually “checking in” regularly—with a Christian Science practitioner who was praying for me—and was continuing to gain some good ground with spiritual insights. One thing that was particularly helpful to me was the practitioner’s conviction of my true spiritual identity—the idea that I was made in God’s image and likeness.

Regular conversations with the practitioner, along with my spiritual study, brought me comfort. Strength and love were two spiritual qualities that stood out to me. When we talked together, the practitioner would tell me things that came to her in prayer, such as the fact that my true spiritual being couldn’t be invaded by pain, and that, since I was a spiritual idea of God, I wasn’t held hostage to a dysfunctional body. My freedom, mobility, and function were all sustained by God. We discussed how I was the “embodiment of Spirit.” Those spiritual truths really spoke to me, and they brought me added relief from pain and the accompanying frustration.

As months went by, I diligently kept in my thought that this material picture before me, no matter how aggressive, was simply not the truth about me and didn’t have to be permanent. It had no place at all in a life filled with Love and its expression, so I wasn’t going to give it any legitimacy or power in my thoughts.

When I walked to work, I knew I was supported by my two angel buddies mentioned in the Bible, Michael and Gabriel. This was something a co-worker once shared with me, when he saw I was struggling. A passage from Science and Health with Key to the Scriptures by Mary Baker Eddy describes the different offices, or functions, of these angels: “Michael’s characteristic is spiritual strength. He leads the hosts of heaven against the power of sin, Satan, and fights the holy wars. Gabriel has the more quiet task of imparting a sense of the ever-presence of ministering Love. These angels deliver us from the depths. Truth and Love come nearer in the hour of woe, when strong faith or spiritual strength wrestles and prevails through the understanding of God” (Science and Health, pp. 566–567). And so I knew that both strength and love were helping me to defeat the lie of pain and the fear of ongoing limited mobility. Although I knew about these “angels” through my prior studies, somehow a view of them as constituting my support system really clicked.

I felt so strongly that I was making progress and that healing was taking place. Sometimes, I’d literally say “No!” out loud to the fearful mental suggestions about this condition. And I’d notice how the pain would then actually lessen.

During this time, I also prayed specifically to see I wasn’t a vehicle for irritation, inflammation, or agitation. For instance, when little things would happen to upset me, I’d often become impatient and react negatively toward people. At times, my response seemed way overblown and really the result of some other inner struggle. I knew it wasn’t right for me to behave that way, and yet, on those occasions, I didn’t really have my prayerful mental defenses shored up enough to defeat those “inner demons” that were trying to disrupt a normally harmonious environment.

I realized I needed to “let the Christ go before me,” as I’d read in a biography of Mary Baker Eddy (see Julia Michael Johnston, Mary Baker Eddy: Her Mission and Triumph, pp. 138–139). To me this meant that I needed to trust that a divine power greater than human will was influencing my thought and governing my actions. Also, some familiar words in a hymn practically leapt out at me: “Speak gently, let no harsh word mar / The good we may do here” (David Bates, Christian Science Hymnal, No. 315).

This revelation helped me respond with love in future instances, and rather than being so willful, I felt a growing calm. I really focused on being the loving and compassionate individual God made me to be, and that I knew I truly was. And I trusted that it wasn’t possible for me to be separated from God’s goodness in any way.

Finally, at summer’s end, about four months after I’d initially thrown my back out, I took a stand for things I truly enjoy doing, like jogging with my dog and taking ballet classes (things which I hadn’t been able to do for months). I knew I was healed when I was able to participate in these activities with freedom.

About one year after the actual healing, it looked one day as though I were experiencing a relapse. But through the same prayer, this was defeated in a day or so, and I went waterskiing and jogging the following day in complete comfort. Since that time, I’ve been active and well.

I’m still singing for joy over this healing. And I’m learning more and more, all the time, how to respond to situations with love.

Mia Krishnaswami | Boston, Massachusetts, US