Love has no choice but to love Truth has no choice but to be true Life has no choice but to live I have no choice but to do the will of my Creator to express Love reflect Truth manifest Life all we are comes from God all we can be is what God made us to be – happy, whole, healthy, and free -Karen Molenaar Terrell
An alpine butterfly flits among the flowers on Table Mountain. Photo by Karen Molenaar Terrell.
Such a strange weave today. Yellow butterfly flits in the flowers and flaps higher and higher into the evergreens before I can get my camera out. But she’s so pretty! I round the curve in the path and look across the river and see half a dozen officers in blue, surrounding a body, I think. Red emergency vehicle. And Whatcom Falls brings peace in a white sound of rushing rapids over boulders, over logs. And then I hear a man yelling and cursing the world, but I can’t see him – is he ahead of me? or above? or below? And now the butterfly is back and this time she poses in the flowers for me, then flutters away and is joined by another butterfly. “Did you see that?” I ask the man coming down the path towards me. “The dancing caterpillars?” he asks. “Yeah,” I say. “Wasn’t that cool?!”
Cussing and rushing water, a body, and butterflies. It has been an interesting morning. -Karen Molenaar Terrell
Butterfly posing for me. Photo by Karen Molenaar Terrell.
This new day holds a promise of opportunities to do something good see something beautiful meet a new friend have a good laugh heal someone’s pain find the magic -Karen Molenaar Terrell
“To those leaning on the sustaining infinite, to-day is big with blessings.” -Mary Baker Eddy
Sunrise over Skagit County, WA. Photo by Karen Molenaar Terrell.
You know what? I can’t promise things will get better. I can’t promise that people will care. I can’t promise that things will be easy. I can’t promise here will be better there. I can’t promise we won’t ever go backwards. I can’t promise we won’t lose what we’ve gained. I can’t promise our country will heal. I can’t promise that there won’t be pain. But if we leave this story in the middle we won’t know how this story ends. If we leave this story right now we can’t be part of helping it mend.
I can’t sleep and go to my friends’ FB walls treasure-hunting for hope; for love that calls to all creation; for jewels of inspiration and wisdom that go beyond human rules and resonate with the rhythm beating in my own heart. And I bring back these gifts: A poem about father-love; A photo of a puppy nestled in her new human’s arms; A painting of a golden sunrise; Posts about epic bike rides and happy-together times; Pictures from mountain climbs; The blessing from a flute; Photos of home-grown fruits; and everywhere magic. -Karen Molenaar Terrell
So much has changed in the last day, week, year – and I feel great fear. But then Clara Kitty curls up on my lap and I see Love is still here and a butterfly flutters by the window and flits through the blue sky and I feel Life moving ‘round me in an eternal satisfied sigh. Life and Love: what’s true and real can never change or die. -Karen Molenaar Terrell
experienced navigator moves with brave caution – ready to move when conscience says to go, but listening for the echos that warn of looming ego -Karen Molenaar Terrell
I have felt really stretched and fragile and on the edge the last little while. I know the last few years have been challenging for all of us – and we each have our own slant and perspective on the challenges. A lot of my perspective comes from the point of view of someone who is hard of hearing.
Imagine being someone who depends on hearing aids and smiles and reading lips and facial expressions to communicate with others. And then imagine lips and smiles being covered, voices being muffled through masks, and hearing aids getting all tangled up in mask strings and falling out. I have been conscientious about wearing a mask when I knew it was helping others and helping allay fears – I felt it was something I could do for the good of my community. But I think two years of feeling shut off from the voices and smiles of others had slowly pushed me to the breaking point. So when a loved one suggested I wear THIS kind of mask because it had THESE kind of strings that wouldn’t get tangled in my hearing aids – I reacted more strongly than I might have two years ago. NOOOOOOO!!!!! No, no, no, no, nope. I pointed out to my loved one that he has hair that’s an inch long – and I have hair to my shoulders – how was I going to get those strings through my hair? And and and… earrings, hearing aids, sunglasses…. NOOOOOOOOO…. it was, like, the last straw for me. I told my loved one I never, ever wanted to hear another word about masks. I’ll wear them when I need to, but I don’t want to talk about it. He got the message and we moved on to happier topics.
So a couple days ago a friend called for a chat on the phone. I have to take off my hearing aid when I’m on the phone so it doesn’t whistle at me. I was sitting in the dining room, picked up my hearing aid from the window sill, and moved to the family room while I was talking to my friend. And somewhere between the dining room and the family room I lost my hearing aid. I mean. It completely vanished. Disappeared. Poof. Gone.
I felt like I had finally broken. I wondered if I was going crazy. I had a kind of panic attack about it. I might have made a sort of cursory prayer about it – “there is nothing lost that won’t be found” and “nothing is lost to God or outside Her consciousness” and “everything is exactly where it needs to be – nothing is misplaced in God’s universe” – but really, I felt like I couldn’t even deal with one more thing right then. So I gave up and went to bed and hoped for happy dreams about smiling unmasked faces.
Fast forward to Father’s Day. We’re all sitting around the table – the husband, the sons, and the sons’ wonderful wives – and I start talking about my missing hearing aid, and my youngest son gently taps me on the arm and says, “Kyla is wondering if that might be your hearing aid over there?” And I look over to where the son is pointing – and there’s my hearing aid! – sitting on top of a candle on the window sill!!! My daughter-in-law, Kyla, had been listening to me tell my story and her eyes had gone to the window sill behind me and she saw the hearing aid sitting right there!! (Insert the music of a heavenly choir here and rays of light shining down on the hearing aid.)
Hugs and rejoicing all around! For me, that hearing aid had come to be symbolic for my life, and it was found again!
Amen.
My Father-Mother never stopped loving me, or took a break from being All-Good, everywhere. She is always now, always here – Love Be-ing. -Karen Molenaar Terrell