A Force for Good

Diane Sue and I had met, once, years ago, at a gathering at a mutual friend’s house. We’d both worked for the same school district then – she as a counselor and me as a teacher. She was one of those people that I immediately connected with; one of those people that I’d never forgotten. She had heart.

A decade later, we reconnected again when Diane’s close friend, Noemi Ban, a Holocaust survivor, died at the age of 96. Diane knew that I loved Noemi, too.

I’d come to know Noemi when I’d invited her into my school to speak to our students about her experiences during the Holocaust. After Noemi had given her talk, she asked me if I’d drive her back to her home, and invited me to come in. The first thing I’d seen when I’d stepped through the door was a framed photo of Noemi’s family before the Holocaust – her mother and father and siblings. Noemi and her father had been the only survivors, and this photo – which her father had found in the rubble of their house after the war – was the only photo left of her family.

Noemi embodied love and forgiveness and strength. There was a powerful presence in her compact form.

After she died, Diane began to put together the story of Noemi’s life Noemi had asked her to write. When she was nearing completion of the book, Diane sent me a copy of the manuscript to get my feedback.

Here’s my response to Diane:

Dear Diane Sue –

It is two in the morning and I just finished the book and I’ve got tears pouring down my face. Wow. You and Noemi have created a masterpiece together. This book – her story – is so beautiful! You’ve captured Noemi’s essence beautifully.

I’m always a little nervous when someone asks me to read a manuscript – I’m never sure what I’m going to find waiting for me – but you are a wonderful writer! I’m so glad you stepped up to do this for Noemi – and for all the rest of us, too.

I’ll attach the manuscript with my suggestions highlighted in red – but these are just suggestions, and there is absolutely nothing you need to do with them.

Your writing is exceptional, and this book is perfect!

Love,
Karen

Diane published Remarkable Resilience in April 2022 and invited me to be a part of the Zoom book launch. I felt so honored by her request.

Diane asked me to join her for a walk in Bellingham not long after this. It was such a joy to spend time with Diane one-on-on, talking about our community and Noemi, education and the world. I remember apple blossoms were blooming on the wild apple trees along our walk, and everything was new and green. It seemed fitting that I should be walking with Diane on a sunny spring day when the world was starting to wake up from the winter.

Like Noemi, Diane is a powerful, but gentle presence. Like Noemi, she is a force for good.

It is a blessing to know her.
-Karen Molenaar Terrell

“And Loss Is Gain”

podcast link: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/karen-molenaar-terrell/episodes/And-Loss-Is-Gain-e2fof90

A “short” I wrote entitled “No Separation in Love” appears in November’s Christian Science Journal. (An audio recording of the article is available, too.)

In my newest book, Looking Forward: More Adventures of the Madcap Christian Scientist, I talk more about my experience with loss in the chapter titled “And Loss Is Gain.” I think that chapter dovetails really well with the short in the Journal. There are details you’ll find in the Journal article that you won’t find in my book, and there are details in my chapter you won’t find in the Journal article.

Here’s the chapter from my book:

“And Loss Is Gain”

“O make me glad for every scalding tear,
For hope deferred, ingratitude, disdain!
Wait, and love more for every hate, and fear
No ill, — since God is good, and loss is gain.”
– Mary Baker Eddy, “Mother’s Evening Prayer”

When I learned Andrew and Christina might be moving to, literally, the other side of the world, I went through a period of deep mourning. It felt like someone I loved had died – like another huge loss in a long series of huge losses.

And then I started pulling together all the tools I had been collecting over the years – the insights and healings and epiphanies – and I constructed a bridge for myself over the deep mourning.

I remembered the dream I’d had when the sons had first started moving out of the house and creating their own lives: In the dream I was in some building that just went on forever. I was walking in a leisurely pace from room to room, and periodically this voice would ask, “Karen, do you want to turn around or not?” I’d grin like it was a joke, and just keep moving forward. I didn’t want to turn around. I didn’t want to go back. I didn’t want to be like Lot’s wife in the Bible, who turned around and became a pillar of salt – fixed in time. I didn’t want to yearn for what WAS, but I wanted to look forward to what was to come.

And then I remembered the time when my youngest son showed me yet another tattoo he’d had etched on himself, and I’d felt so grieved that he was covering his beautiful skin with these permanent etchings that I’d reached my thoughts out to God for help. The voice of Love had immediately answered my prayers with these words, “Xander doesn’t belong to you. He belongs to himself and he belongs to Me. What he does with his body and his life is NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS. Xander is fine, and will always be fine. And so are you.” I’d immediately felt the fears and grief lift from me. And when, the next day, Xander showed me the new tattoos on his knuckles, I found myself saying to him, “Oh! Those are cool! What do they mean?” He’d looked a little surprised by my reaction, and then he’d gone through and told me what each tattoo meant – the pine tree represented the Pacific Northwest; the top hat and smiley face represented humor; the mountain range represented our family heritage; the feather represented freedom; and the crown represented purpose. Isn’t that beautiful?

Another tool I pulled out was the memory of a time when my family was scattered out across the United States – I was in Chicago for my Christian Science Association, Andrew was living in Los Angeles, Xander and Scott were in Washington State – and I had a sort of revelation. Did our physical separation in any way weaken my love for my family? Did the fact that we weren’t in close physical proximity in any way make me love my sons and husband less? The answer, of course, was no. And then I thought about the loved ones who have died through the years and realized that death hasn’t stopped me from loving them, either. It became clear to me that NOTHING can separate us from the love we have for each other.

One morning, a couple of weeks after I’d learned of Andrew and Christina’s possible move, I woke up feeling full of joy. I walked out and stood on our back deck in the sunshine, breathed in the morning air, and listened to the birdsong. The thought came to me that something amazing is coming. I realized that not only does God have wonderful plans for Andrew and Christina, and Xander and Kyla, but She has wonderful plans for me, too.

-Karen Molenaar Terrell

My new grandbaby and me getting acquainted.

I’m Siding with Love

podcast link: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/karen-molenaar-terrell/episodes/Im-Siding-with-Love-e2fofg1

I’m siding with peace
not just the kind where wars cease
but the kind where we work together
to make the world a BETTER
place

I’m siding with compassion
I’m not just siding with whatever faction is in fashion
but I’m siding with the Source of kindness
that underlies what blesses
ALL of humanity

I’m siding with Love –
below, around, above –
the only lasting power, always here,
bigger than hate, bigger than fear.

-Karen Molenaar Terrell
(Photo by Karen Molenaar Terrell.)

A Prayer of Peace

Love is all-powerful, ever-present, all-wise, ever Good.
Feel the force of infinite Life unfolding, unfettered,
unrestrained, unhampered, untouched by hate
and war, vengeance and ego and human history.
Love and Life are All,
and we all are of Love and Life, and everything Good –
created for Good, by Good, of Good.

Amen.
-Karen Molenaar Terrell

Check It Out! (From the Library.)

I was curious and did some googling and discovered that some of my books can now be checked out from the Bellingham, Burlington, Washington State University, and University of Washington libraries. How cool is that?! Check it out:

“If This Isn’t Nice, I Don’t Know What Is.”

Kurt Vonnegut said, “I urge you to please notice when you are happy, and exclaim or murmur or think at some point, ‘If this isn’t nice, I don’t know what is.'”

And this morning I took notice. This morning was magic – from beginning to end – this morning was magic:

I decided today would be a good day to make my monthly drive to La Conner and pay my broadband bill. As I was getting in my car to head out, I had my first snow geese sighting of the year – a flock of them flew right over our house!

I stopped on the way to La Conner to take a quick walk on the Padilla Bay Dike Trail, and saw a blue heron flapping around a couple of egrets – that was very cool – I don’t often see egrets up here. And I don’t think I’ve ever seen them with a heron.

Jolyne and Jeri were both manning the broadband office today – I always enjoy seeing them every month – they are a comedy team. Jolyne was talking today about starting a “J and J” podcast and I would watch that, for sure.

After I paid my bill I headed towards the La Conner boardwalk for a walk along the Swinomish Channel. On my way to the boardwalk I spotted a squirrel hopping along the street, one of the last of this year’s dragonflies, and a bee on the last of this year’s flowers. I met a man named Don on the boardwalk, in La Conner for a reunion with some of his friends from the Seattle University class of 1962. As we chatted I found out he’d grown up in Winlock – he didn’t think I would have even heard of Winlock – but, coincidentally, I have a couple of friends who grew up there! It was fun to find that connection.

I hadn’t been planning this, but when I got to the Calico Cafe, I decided to turn in there for lunch. I asked for a seat outside, and the hostess led me to a nice seat in the sunshine where I could watch the seagulls and pigeons winging over the water, and the fishing boats motoring by on the channel. The hostess was cheery and helpful and brought me a mocha and punched my espresso card while I waited for the waitress.

It was perfect out there – just the right temperature – I could feel the sun warming my back. I felt safe and happy. I had everything I needed in that moment. And I looked around at all the life going on around me – the birds and the people and the little ladybug in the potted plants. Such joy!

When Kaya, the waitress, came for my order, I ordered a pesto froccacia scramble – scrambled eggs full of spinach, tomatoes, feta cheese, and focaccia bread. When Kaya brought it out, I just looked at the beauty of it for a moment. Took a picture of it with Kaya – I told her she had to be in the picture, too – and she graciously let me include her in the photo. I asked Kaya her name and she told me and then I told her my name was (pause for dramatic effect) “Karen” and she started laughing, passing my Karen Test.

Two women came into the outside dining area with a little girl skipping along behind them. The way the little girl approached life just tickled me. She was just so happy to be there. I chatted to the women and found out that they were sisters and the little girl was the daughter of one of them.

Kaya came up to give me a box for my leftovers and to give me my bill. I told her everything was just perfect. I was enjoying one of life’s perfect moments. She smiled and got a little teary and thanked me for sharing that.

As I got up to leave the mother of the little girl turned and wished me a good day, and I told her then that I love the way her little girl approached life – just so happy.

As I walked back to my car I passed a couple on the sidewalk and said, “Isn’t it a perfect day?” And they smiled and agreed it was.

I stopped to wave to the balcony of the apartment where Mom and Dad used to live, and felt Moz waving back to me. I felt her walking with me in Love.

This morning was perfect. And I’m so glad I let myself be conscious of that.