I went in search of joy – trusting Love to lead me to treasure beyond compare. I found birds – cormorants, ducks, swans, and geese – calmly doing what birds do and it brought me peace. Joy!
I passed by places where I’d spent time with loved ones and happy memories filled my soul and made me smile. I remembered the love and found the love was with me still. Joy!
I passed a woman with a bag of belongings on her back and asked her if she needed a ride. She pushed her bag in my car and got into the passenger seat. I asked her if she was hungry and we went to the espresso stand to find her something to eat. The barista understood what we were doing and gave my new friend extra crackers and we smiled conspiratorial kindness at each other. Joy!
And as I drove my passenger to her next destination she told me that God had sent her on her journey today with a message she’d had to deliver to someone up the road. And it came to me then that she’d been a message delivered by Love to ME today to help lighten my load. Joy!
I went in search of treasure today – looking for the things that bring me joy. I parked down near the Alaska Ferry Terminal in Fairhaven and walked up to 11th Street. Stopped in at Village Books and bought myself an anthology of Mary Oliver poems – joy! Then walked back down to Fairhaven Coffee, hoping I’d find Kenzie barista-ing to give her a copy of my latest book (she’s in it) – and she was there! Kenzie is studying to be a social studies teacher – and I was a social studies teacher for a good chunk of my career – so we talked shop for a while – joy! I walked up to the trail to the dog park and walked through the rookery – remembering when those nests were full of squawking tuft-headed babies – the memories brought me joy! Then I walked down to Marine Park and sat on the block where my 100-year-old dad had once sat and remembered our time together there – joy!
I took Chuckanut home. I passed a woman walking on the side of the road with a big bag full of her belongings. I pulled over to ask her if she needed a ride. She described where she needed to go in Burlington and I told her I could take her there, so she got in the car and I headed towards Burlington. On the way, I asked her if she was hungry. She said she’d had a banana today. I told her I could buy her something to eat at the Otter Bean Espresso down the road.
Ali was working at the espresso stand today, and I introduced her to my guest and explained that I wanted to buy her a meal. Ali’s face lit up. She went through the food options for my guest, who ended up choosing a cup of chili and a mocha. When Ali handed my new friend’s chili to her she let her know she’d added some extra crackers. Ali and I smiled big smiles at each other and I thanked her – joy!
I brought my new friend to her destination and then continued on to Fred Meyer’s for some quick shopping.
I ran into my old friend, Kim, from Youthnet there and we exchanged greetings. Then, as I was leaving, I saw Kelly, the parent of one of my former eighth graders, coming towards the store. Kelly was literally glowing with joy. She said she was there to work on fundraising for Meals on Wheels. She said working with that organization was something that meant a lot to her – it felt good to be part of it. Joy!
What an amazing day Love gave me today – so many gifts! So many opportunities for joy!
Mary Baker Eddy wrote in Science and Health (p. 107): “God had been graciously preparing me during many years for the reception of this final revelation of the absolute divine Principle of scientific mental healing.”
What did this “gracious” preparation look like? Well, let’s see… she was widowed at the age of 22, when she was pregnant with her only child. Her son was taken from her when he was four and she didn’t see him again until he was grown. Her second husband was a philanderer and they divorced. She suffered from debilitating illness from an early age. And at the age of 45 she slipped on an icy sidewalk and was so severely injured the doctor declared she was dying.
Maybe God has been “graciously preparing” all of us for what we’re facing now. Think back to all the challenges you’ve faced – the times you were terrified, the times when things seemed hopeless – and then remember the Father-Mother Love that brought you through. Remember the healings. “Hold fast to that which is good.” (Thessalonians 5:21).
I think Love has been preparing all of us – each in our own way, each with our own lessons, giving each of us our own gifts to use right now.
Dear friends who support our current administration –
I feel the need to clarify my feelings and thoughts about what is happening in our country right now. Some of you have accused me of hating our president, and have been puzzled about why I want to pay taxes on what you call “wasteful spending.” Here are my thoughts:
1) No, I do not hate our current president. I do, however, hate what our current president is doing to our country.
2) I actually feel good about paying taxes that support our federal workers, our federal infrastructure, and the well-being of my fellow Americans. For example: I don’t mind paying taxes to support our veterans; those who need medicaid to stay alive; the air traffic controllers who get us safely to our destinations; the rangers who maintain our parks, and rescue our kiesters from our misadventures; the FEMA workers who help our loved ones rebuild their lives after natural disasters; the scientists and researchers of NOAA who help us deal with climate change; or the farmers who, through USAID, provide food for those who are starving. I do not consider any of this “wasteful” spending.
I do not, however, feel good about paying taxes to give tax cuts to billionaires, or to subsidize their private companies.
There was another time – almost exactly eight years ago now – when I was terrified and felt like I was facing challenges impossible to overcome. Both my parents were in the hospital – Mom on one floor, Dad on the floor above her. I’d just learned that Mom was not going to be allowed to return to her retirement community apartment because they couldn’t provide the medical care she’d need. I had made calls to assisted living places and to offices that provided in-home nursing care and learned that the cost of my mom’s care – combined with care for Dad – would cost $8000 or more a month. Their savings might buy them a couple months, but then I might need to get into my own retirement savings to care for them.
And beyond the money terror, I was feeling a deep grief. Mom was dying. My sweet mama was dying. No one would ever love me like Mom loved me, or know me as she had known me. I remember sobbing with hopelessness.
I talked with my husband about our options, and he supported me in my decision to have Mom brought to our home. He agreed to help me care for her. The social workers at the hospital were concerned for me – they kept asking me if this is what I really wanted to do, and I said yes. I didn’t know how we were going to do this – my husband and I were both working full-time then, and I wasn’t sure when we were going to actually be able to sleep. But I knew it was the right thing to do. I felt Love leading me to make this decision for Mom.
Mom was brought by ambulance to my home on President’s Day eight years ago. A hospice nurse from Hospice Northwest came to show Scott and me how to care for Mom. We weren’t sure how long we’d have with her – I think we were told she wasn’t expected to live more than six months – but… I picked up on the signs from the hospice nurse as she examined Mom that we probably didn’t have that long.
Mom and I spent the whole afternoon telling each other how much we loved each other. Mom – who’d always been one of the bravest people I’d ever known – was scared. I can’t remember any other time when I’d seen her scared. She asked me, “What happens when I die? Will I see you again?” And I told her that nothing could separate us from the love we have for each other. Love doesn’t die. I assured her we’d meet again. She nodded her head and seemed to accept my words as the truth. Later, as it got hard for her to speak, I asked her one more time if she loved me – I was greedy. And she looked at me with such intensity – her eyes on mine filled with love – and nodded her head. I will never forget that look in her eyes. I carry it with me still, and it reassures me.
That night I slept on the couch by her hospital bed. I had this beautiful dream full of butterflies and green fields and felt this sense of joy and peace and love brush by me. When I woke from this dream I realized Mom wasn’t struggling to breathe and I thought, “Oh, she’s okay. I don’t need to give her any medication right now.” And I closed my eyes to go back to sleep, and then I realized… I got out of bed and felt my mama, and she was cool. I went upstairs to tell Scott I thought she had passed, but I wasn’t sure. Scott came downstairs and felt her pulse, and said, “Moz is gone, Sweetie.”
The hospice nurse came and walked us through what we needed to do. I’ll always be grateful for our hospice nurses.
But now my thoughts turned to Dad – he was soon to be released from the hospital and I still didn’t know how we were going to give him the care he needed. He was 98 then and suffering from a kind of dementia – and I didn’t feel equipped with the skills to help him. I prayed. I prayed desperate prayers, and I went for a walk to try to find some peace. As I was walking, a rainbow suddenly arched over the field I was passing, and I felt Mom with me.
The social workers at the hospital asked me if I’d ever looked into adult family homes, and gave me a pamphlet with phone numbers. On the second call I felt I’d found the right place for Dad and when my brother and I stopped by to check it out we saw bird feeders and dogs and cats – and we knew Mom would have loved the woman who answered the door. Again, I felt Mom’s presence with us. We’d found the right place for Dad – and within his budget, too!
I learned something from that experience. The answers are always there – even when things seem impossible. I hadn’t know that adult family home even existed the day before – and now here it was! Just waiting for Dad! Love had this place waiting for him!
Dad lived another three years and the people in his adult family home became like family to us. They are still very dear to me.
And I still feel Mom and Dad with me. We’ve never been separated. Nothing can separate us from Love. We’re connected by Love, forever and ever. Amen.
I apologize that it’s only available on Amazon right now (and please do not order it on February 28th).
Here’s the opening to Cosmic Community:
December 6, 2023
This morning I felt impelled to get out of the house and go for a drive. I ended up at the mall in Bellingham with the vague idea that I might go Christmas shopping.
As I headed into Macy’s a young woman approached me – she looked scared. She said her baby was locked in the car with her keys and she asked me if I could let security know. I went into Macy’s and let the customer service people know the situation.
They needed to know the model of the car and where it was parked, so I went back out and asked the young mother if I could watch her car and baby while she went inside to talk to the customer service people. She thanked me and I took up my post by her car.
When I looked in the window I saw her baby was crying – so I said, “Hi Sweetie! I’m right here with you!” and she started giggling then and smiling at me. There was a little toy suction cupped to the window and the baby reached up and started playing with the toy – like she was playing with me – and we spent the next minute or so laughing at her toy together.
The baby’s mom came out then, and pretty soon folks in uniforms joined her at her car to help her.
And the thought occurred to me that maybe that was the whole reason I’d felt like I’d needed to drive and ended up at the mall – I hardly ever go there, and it was weird for me to decide to go there today.
I bought a red vest and a new pair of jeans and then started my drive home.
And the clouds and the rain and the gray evening light enveloped me in a peaceful bubble. I’d put in a CD of hymns sung by a pair of young brothers with a youthful energy, and as I listened to the hymns I thought of my mom and remembered all the times she’d sung those hymns to me. I could feel her love with me.
As I drove through the Chuckanut Hills, I thought of the hikes I’d taken with Dad and felt his love, too. And then I remembered driving this same route when I was bringing the sons home from swimming lessons when they were preschoolers, and I could almost hear them laughing with each other in the back seat. It seemed a lifetime ago, and just like yesterday.
The young men on the CD sang, “He leadeth me, O blessed thought! O words with heav’nly comfort fraught…” (words by Joseph H. Gilmore). And suddenly I felt myself connected to all the other people in the cars moving with me on I-5. And for a moment our kinship with each other was so clear to me. I felt us all moving together in a cosmic murmuration. Normally I try to exit onto the backroads, but I found myself passing the exit I might normally have taken and I realized I WANTED to be with the other folks on I-5.
I woke up at 2:00 in the morning, feeling scared for the world. I went downstairs to commune with the Cosmos and the cats. Sparky cat settled onto the sofa next to me, and blinked his reassurance. I heard Love say, “I’m right here.”
I went back to bed to sleep a little more, and when I got up I drove up to Fairhaven for my walk on the boardwalk. I haven’t been there for a week and I’ve really missed it. But it seemed empty when I got there – almost like a ghost town. I wondered if maybe the cold was keeping people away, or maybe we aren’t getting as many Canadian visitors as we normally do. It was kind of weird. But then a young woman carrying a cup of coffee smiled at me, and I heard Love say to me, “I’m right here with you.”
I took the boardwalk down to the coffee shop in Boulevard Park and ordered a mocha. I sat on my favorite high chair and swung my legs back and forth while I sipped my drink and toodled around on my phone and watched people. When I left the shop, the baristas called out, “Have a good day!” I thanked them, and then called back, “You, too!” They laughed and nodded their heads. And Love said, “I’m still here.”
Going back on the boardwalk towards Fairhaven was warmer – my back was against the wind. I saw a man coming my direction turn around and walk backwards, and I smiled at him and said, “That’s better, isn’t it?” He grinned and nodded and said it was great exercise to walk backwards, and it was also a lot warmer.
A sweet pup named Remi approached me for a scratch behind the ears. He looked like he was hobbling a little and his human explained that he’d just been through two surgeries – one for his hip and another for his back. She said he’d been paralyzed at some point. But here he was – walking! I told Remi’s human that I was glad he had her, and she said she was glad she had him.
And Love said, “I’m right here.”
I had already decided I was going to treat myself to a breakfast at the Colophon. I hoped I’d get my favorite seat in the corner – but I’d take whatever I was offered. I also hoped Taryn would be there – she always makes me smile.
The hostess recognized me and welcomed me in. She asked me if I’d like my favorite seat in the corner! Then Taryn appeared – she was going to be my server! And THEN – when I got situated in my corner seat, the Four Tops came on the background music channel, singing, “I’ll be there…” and I started cracking up.
Okay. Here’s my current struggle: I’m trying to keep my wall kind and joyful; I’m also trying to be an ally to those in need of allies right now; I’m trying to nurture the good in people and trying not to feed what’s bad (and this includes myself); I’m trying to trust in Good – trying to trust that my fellow humans have the wisdom and courage to see and do what’s right and decent even when the odds are against them. And when I bring all of this to my wall it looks like a hodgpodge patchwork of swans and smiling pups, political insanity and heroism, frustration, anger, Christopher Walken and Borowitz. It’s a little messy right now.
I apologize. I’m trying to bring order out of chaos here and it ain’t easy.
If nothing else, please know this: I love you. I honor the good in you. The world needs all the good you have to bring to it right now.
Taking stock of my resources: I’m still breathing – so that’s something. I can still laugh. I can still love. I can still be kind. I think I can make a pretty good day out of these ingredients.
In the stillness before the sun rises – before the wordle and strand games; the Facebook feed and the “breaking news” – I give myself a moment to hear only You. I feel Your love with me right now and here, enveloping me in the assurance that we are dear to You and we don’t need to fear whatever may come. We are One in Love. -Karen Molenaar Terrell
Adventures of the Madcap Christian Scientist 