It is Nothing trying to be Something

The rest of Bailes’ epic is a simple story.  He was better but 6 years had passed and he was not yet completely well. He was healing for sure, but not completely. Of what he was learning about his healing process, he was holding onto some kind of hidden reservation. Somewhere in his prayers; his directions to the Servant, there was some imperfection of which he was not fully aware.

Driven by the necessity to be rid of his terrible disease, he persisted in groping to find the master thought that would overcome the imperfect thought in him, doing away with the interference to God’s restoration of his health. He had reached the point where there was only “Sugar, a trace.”

Soon after, he sat, with head in hands, eyes closed; Then he started, quietly and confidently, to declare something like this:

“Whatever is blocking my complete recovery must be some hidden strand of thought that holds some mental reservation. I am not aware of its nature, where it started, or what keeps it active. But it must be mine, whether I can trace my way to it or not.

I do not want it to keep operating, therefore I now declare that it is a vestige of my former destructive thought. I emphatically state that it is completely out of line with the Infinite Thinker’s thoughts which are trying to manifest perfectly through me. It is a squatter living on territory where it has no rights of any sort. I call in the law to evict, dissolve, and negate it right now.

I wash my hands of it. I do not have to fight it, worry about it, or pay any attention to it. It is nothing trying to be something. It is no more real than the bogey man that scared me as a boy. I turn every last thread of my thought to the contemplation of that steady movement of the thought of God in me and through every single cell of my body.

I think of Its beauty, Its unutterable harmonies, Its total unawareness of any resisting force, Its breathing of ‘It is good’ as It contemplates the universe It has brought into being. Quietly now I let myself drift into the innermost parts of that Infinite Mind, catch something of its unshakeable peace, knowing that this Mind flows through me as my mind.”

He went on affirming the power of the Infinite and Its perfect image of his body, concluding by expressing his gratitude for the healing that he declared was taking place. His last words were, “It is so.”

He then went for a walk along the banks of the river, looking at the stars, trees, and the river; and quietly said, “They are good; for they too are ideas held by God.”

The next laboratory report said, “Sugar negative.”

It was so. It never returned.

Angela

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