In Mourning for My Country

I’d never heard of Charlie Kirk until his death. It doesn’t sound like he and I had much in common, politically or otherwise. But his death has put me in mourning – not for him, personally – as I said I’d never heard of him – but I’m in mourning for my country. I’m in mourning for all the schoolchildren killed by guns, and the resort to violence that has taken the lives of people on both the left and the right. I’m in mourning for the death of basic civility and respect for life. I’m in mourning for the death of decency in our political system.

But here’s what’s keeping me going through my mourning: Every day I encounter people who still show kindness, who still show generosity. These aren’t celebrities and politicians – these are just “regular” people who have the courage to get out of bed every day and face whatever the world throws at them. These are our world’s real heroes. For our world’s kind people, I am grateful.

, , ,
, , ,

I Told Him He Wasn’t Alone

(Originally posted June 15, 2016.)

About once a week I walk into town to buy a hummus roasted veggie sandwich and to see my friend, Frank, who works at the sandwich place. Frank is gay. We’ve never talked about his gayness or my not-gayness or anyone’s whatever-ness in conversation – I mean – it’s not like people usually approach a new friend, shake hands, and introduce themselves by their labels – “Hi, I’m Karen and I’m a progressive bleeding heart liberal heterosexual female Christian Scientist of mostly European ancestry (although there might be some Basque Reptile Alien in there, too) – and how about you? What are your labels?” – but, yeah, Frank is gay.

This week when Frank asked me how I was, I gave the usual, “I’m good. And how about you?” And he gave the usual, “I’m good.” But this time something made me stop and really look at Frank. And I asked, “Frank, how are you really?” Frank said it had been a rough week.

He said he’d been in a bar earlier in the week, and he’d heard people at the next table over saying – in deliberately loud voices so Frank could hear – “Yeah. Those people in Florida deserved it.” Frank had tried to remain civil to them – he and the bar-tender had had their own conversation – loud enough to be heard – about the terribleness of the tragedy. And the people at the next table spewed out some more hatred. And Frank wondered about them: Hadn’t they ever been targeted for being different in some way? Didn’t they know what that felt like?

I started tearing up. “Frank, where does that hate come from? I don’t understand it.” Frank shook his head sadly, and said he thought it came from ignorance – from people being afraid of what they don’t know. He said he leaves those people in the hands of the Lord – and he didn’t mean that in a vengeful way – but in a “God will help them” way.

I told Frank that I was with him. I told him that he wasn’t alone. And he thanked me and gave me a hug.

Later on I was thinking about what Frank had said – his wondering if those people had ever been targeted for being different – and it made me remember a time, years ago, when I’d been watching a local “town meeting” on television and I’d heard someone say that “All Christian Scientists should be lined up against a wall and shot.” It had been strange and disturbing to hear someone who didn’t know me wish me dead. It stuck with me. I learned something from that.

Anyone could become a target – hatred is a form of insanity, really, and it doesn’t have to make sense – maybe tomorrow it will be stubby people, or extra tall people, or people with green eyes, or left-handed people, who will become the targets.

I think when we take the time to get to know each other – to try to understand each other without judgment or condemnation – to listen to each other – when we take the time to get rid of our own ignorance – we are doing a lot to make the world a better place. It’s been said so many times, but I think it’s true: Love really IS the answer.

Thoughts on This Memorial Day

Thoughts on this Memorial Day:

In 1961 – when I was just four – our country went through the tensions of the “Bay of Pigs.” I don’t remember anybody explaining to me what was going on, but I remember my mom and dad exchanging secret looks. I remember knowing the grown-ups were afraid.

Two and a half years later, our president was assassinated. I was in second grade. An announcement came over the school’s loud speakers that all students should return to their rooms. I was alone, walking in the hall – I think I’d just delivered a message to the office or something. I could feel the urgency in the voice over the intercom. We all were sent home from school. The next week was Thanksgiving, and I remember my dad and my Uncle Emery (retired Army officer) weeping. I didn’t often see my dad or my Uncle Emery weeping. It was a dark time.

Five years later, Civil Rights leader, Rev. Martin Luther King, Jr., was assassinated and, a few months after that, JFK’s younger brother was assassinated. By that time, my dad had climbed Mount Kennedy with Bobby Kennedy and considered him a friend. The assassinations of MLK and Bobby Kennedy brought more darkness to our country.

In 1969, our country began drafting young men – most of them still teenagers – to fight in a war on the other side of the world. The draft ended in June 1973 – a year before I graduated from high school. I wonder how many of the young men I passed in the halls of my high school were ordered to Vietnam?

Conflict and war didn’t end with the Vietnam War. I don’t need to go through the list – you all know.

But when I was asking myself this morning to try to identify that time in my life that might be called “the good old days” – I realized that I’ve always lived in a world with tension and conflict, hate and killing. I was blessed to have a happy childhood with loving parents, inspiring teachers, and healthy adventures in the outdoors – but beyond my own personal circle, there was darkness.

My teaching major was history. As I studied world history, I remember having an epiphany that all the wars fought in the world have been connected – that we’re really still fighting the First Peloponnesian War. Greed for land, greed for spices, greed for oil, greed for money and power – all the wars are related – leaders sending young people off to kill and be killed so their leaders can get more of whatever it is they want.

The world has always had its heroes, too – the humble unknown people who go about quietly doing the right thing, sharing the good they have, creating beauty, treating others with kindness and compassion. I meet these people every day on my walks and trips to the store – heroic people who don’t even know they’re heroic – people who do the right thing because they can’t NOT do the right thing.

And I see the progress towards liberty and love that humanity continues to make. Nothing can stop the progress. Once we’ve moved forward, it’s impossible to go back.

We live in challenging times – some might say “unprecedented” – but that in itself gives me hope. The more blatant and brazen evil becomes – the more it exposes itself for what it is – the easier it will be to see it and overcome it. With love. With the courage of progress. With the quiet heroism of kindness. Nothing can stop progress. Nothing can stop the power of Love.

Why Do Hobbits Live in Her Shoe?

She was trying to understand the unfathomable –
trying to find a reason and cause for the hate and insanity
the greed and racism, willful ignorance and inanity.
And finally she realized she was looking at it upside-down:
Trying to find a source for a story that’s not true
is like trying to find the reason fairies exist
or hobbits live in her shoe;
It’s like asking why Road Runner and Wiley Coyote
are always in a fight;
It’s like trying to find the source for darkness
instead of turning on a light.
– Karen Molenaar Terrell

(Photo by NASA.)

Where Does That Hate Come From?

(I stumbled upon this old post from 2016 and thought it would work well in 2025, too.)

About once a week I walk into town to buy a hummus roasted veggie sandwich and to see my friend, Frank, who works at the sandwich place. Frank is gay. We’ve never talked about his gayness or my not-gayness or anyone’s whatever-ness in conversation – I mean – it’s not like people usually approach a new friend, shake hands, and introduce themselves by their labels – “Hi, I’m Karen and I’m a progressive bleeding heart liberal heterosexual female Christian Scientist of mostly European ancestry (although there might be some Basque Reptile Alien in there, too) – and how about you? What are your labels?” – but, yeah, Frank is gay. This week when Frank asked me how I was, I gave the usual, “I’m good. And how about you?” And he gave the usual, “I’m good.” But this time something made me stop and really look at Frank. And I asked, “Frank, how are you really?” Frank said it had been a rough week.

He said he’d been in a bar earlier in the week, and he’d heard people at the next table over saying – in deliberately loud voices so Frank could hear – “Yeah. Those people in Florida deserved it.” Frank had tried to remain civil to them – he and the bar-tender had had their own conversation – loud enough to be heard – about the terribleness of the tragedy. And the people at the next table spewed out some more hatred. And Frank wondered about them: Hadn’t they ever been targeted for being different in some way? Didn’t they know what that felt like?

I started tearing up. “Frank, where does that hate come from? I don’t understand it.” Frank shook his head sadly, and said he thought it came from ignorance – from people being afraid of what they don’t know. He said he leaves those people in the hands of the Lord – and he didn’t mean that in a vengeful way – but in a “God will help them” way.

I told Frank that I was with him. I told him that he wasn’t alone. And he thanked me and gave me a hug.

Later on I was thinking about what Frank had said – his wondering if those people had ever been targeted for being different – and it made me remember a time, years ago, when I’d been watching a local “town meeting” on television and I’d heard someone say that “All Christian Scientists should be lined up against a wall and shot.” It had been strange and disturbing to hear someone who didn’t know me wish me dead. It stuck with me. I learned something from that.

Anyone could become a target – hatred is a form of insanity, really, and it doesn’t have to make sense – maybe tomorrow it will be stubby people, or extra tall people, or people with green eyes, or left-handed people, who will become the targets.

I think when we take the time to get to know each other – to try to understand each other without judgment or condemnation – to listen to each other – when we take the time to get rid of our own ignorance – we are doing a lot to make the world a better place. It’s been said so many times, but I think it’s true: Love really IS the answer.

Love Has Been Preparing Us

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 the Current Administration

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.

Karen

“I’m Right Here.”

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.

I love when the Cosmos has fun with me.

It Ain’t Easy

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.

Note to a Friend

Note to a friend:

I know that God loves you no less than She loves me. I know that God loves all of Her children without limit. And I trust that She is continually leading and guiding each of us down our own paths in life, with our own lessons waiting for us – and it’s not my business to decide how you should think or feel or be. But it IS my business to follow God’s direction in my own life – and that includes taking a stand for what I know is honest and right, and confronting evil when I see it.

In love, Karen