You ever want to just step out of life?

Yeah. Me, too, sometimes. Woke up at 4:00 in the morning and found Science and Health with Key to the Scriptures on my Kindle… opened it to a random place. Not sure now, exactly, what I read, but these are the thoughts that came to me afterwards…

I want to take a break, I said.
Can I step out of life for a moment,
or maybe stay in bed?
Can things go on without me awhile?
Can I just disappear?
Can you get on with your lives without me
and just pretend I’m not here?
For life is a messy business
and I’m tired and I am weary
I’ve made too many mistakes to count today
And I’d like to not make anymore, not any.

Will things get better?
Will life come out alright?
Will the hero find true love?
Will tomorrow be sparkly and bright?
Will there be a happy ending?
Will the ones I love know they’re loved?
Will I see any more rainbows?
Will sun’s rays beam through the clouds above?

And the still, small voice reached into my thought
– gentle, peaceable benediction –
“All the good you seek and all that you’ve sought,
you can claim right now – and that’ s no fiction –
for Love is yours to express, to feel and to be
you are wealthy beyond description.
Nothing else matters, there’s no other power
no warring opinions, no need to cower.
You are loved and you’re loving
and that’s all there is to it
Love’s loving child, and there’s nothing else,
simply nothing.”
– Karen Molenaar Terrell, schmaltz-monger extraordinaire

When does a person stop being a miracle?


Just saw a commercial on the TV. It showed a man carrying around a tiny infant while he did laundry. Not sure what the commercial was advertising, exactly – appliances maybe? or… laundry detergent? – but the line that caught my attention was something about making miracles – alluding, I guess, to the baby in the father’s arms.

And, of course, being a mother myself I thought about my own “miracles”  –  sons now fully-grown. And it occurred to me that they didn’t stop being miracles to me once they grew out of babyhood. And then I started wondering… well… a lot of things. Like, for instance, we all started out as babies, right? So to society we all started out as little miracles. And… at what age do most people in society stop thinking of each other as miracles? Two? Four? Eighteen? Ninety? Should we EVER stop thinking of each other as miracles?

And then my thoughts turned to those little girls kidnapped in Nigeria, and that pregnant woman in Sudan who’s been sentenced to death for her religious beliefs, and it’s obvious to me those little girls and that pregnant woman are miracles, too – and I’m wondering how anybody else can fail to recognize that?  And THEN I realized that… well… the man who sentenced the woman to death, and the men who kidnapped those little girls…  they were all babies once, too – taking their first breaths, opening their eyes and looking on the world for the first time, wrapping their little arms around their mammas’ necks, taking their first steps – and I tried to see them through the eyes of their mothers… and are not they miracles, too?

I am praying. I am praying  to see the power of Love and Truth at work in our world,  to see Love expressed, and Truth acknowledged. I am praying to know the powerlessness of hatred and cruelty – to see that hatred and ignorance can never, never overcome Good. Darkness vanishes with the light. Hatred disappears in the radiance of Love. Error dissolves before Truth.

And you -yes,  YOU – you are still a miracle.

When the divine precepts  are understood, they unfold the foundation of fellowship, in which one mind is not at war with another, but all have one Spirit, God, one intelligent source, in accordance with the Scriptural command: “Let this Mind be in you, which was also in Christ Jesus.”
– Mary Baker Eddy



Happy Mother’s Day to Nurturers and Reflections of Love Everywhere!

“… when I came home from school, and told Moz that I didn’t think my first grade teacher liked me so much and that she was a crabby old lady, Mom’s response was, “Well, Sweetie, we just need to love the hell right out of her then.” Moz didn’t commiserate with me, didn’t call up the school and complain about this teacher – nope – instead she used this opportunity to teach me a life-long lesson about the power of love. I started my Campaign of Love the very next day,..”

Adventures of the Madcap Christian Scientist

Father-Mother is the name for Deity, which indicates His tender relationship to His spiritual creation. – Mary Baker Eddy

Man and woman as coexistent and eternal with God forever reflect, in glorified quality,  the infinite Father-Mother God. – Mary Baker Eddy

I love this video of Mom – it totally captures the essence of who she is – warm, loving, joyful. Here’s Moz, at age 80, singing her unique version of  Mamma Mia:

I couldn’t have been more blest than I’ve been to have this beautiful reflection of motherhood for my mom.

Moz was wise: I remember coming home from school in the first grade, telling Moz about my day. My first grade teacher was not what most people envision when they think of a first grade teacher – she was not sweet-voiced, smiling, or nurturing. She was, to put it starkly, kind of cranky, and didn’t seem…

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Coming to Your Senses

Sometimes you have to lose your mind to come to your senses. – Dan Millman

May is Mental Health Month. If you have ever struggled with mental health issues – or are struggling right now – I just want you to know that you are not alone; you are loved; there are people who care about you; and there are people (ahem… me, for instance) who have been through what you’re going through and have come out the other end of it in one piece – wiser, more empathetic, and more conscious than before.

We’re all in this together.

“You is kind. You is smart. You is important.” – Kathryn Sockett, from The Help

Drop Thy still dews of quietness,
Till all our strivings cease;
Take from our souls the strain and stress,
And let our ordered lives confess
The beauty of Thy peace.
Breathe through the heats of our desire
Thy coolness and Thy balm;
Let sense be dumb, let flesh retire;
Speak through the earthquake, wind, and fire,
O still, small voice of calm.
 – John Greenleaf Whittier