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.
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.
Would Love exist if no one had a brain? Is Love dependent on nerves and dopamine? Are we within Love or is Love housed in gray goo? When our bodies die, does Love die, too?
Love, I think, is bigger than goo, bigger than “me” and bigger than “you” – for I believe Love is EVERYTHING – the Source of the song all creation sings.
Christmas Eve, 1988. I was in a funk. I couldn’t see that I was making much progress in my life. My teaching career seemed to be frozen, and I was beginning to think my husband and I would never own our own home or have children. The world seemed a very bleak and unhappy place to me. No matter how many batches of fudge I whipped up or how many times I heard Bing Crosby sing “White Christmas,” I couldn’t seem to find the Christmas spirit.
I was washing the breakfast dishes, thinking my unhappy thoughts, when I heard gunshots coming from the pasture behind our house. I thought it was the neighbor boys shooting at the seagulls again and, all full of teacherly harrumph, decided to take it upon myself to go out and “have a word with them.”
But after I’d marched outside I realized that it wasn’t the neighbor boys at all. John, the dairy farmer who lived on the adjoining property, was walking away with a rifle, and an animal (a calf, I thought) was struggling to get up in the field behind our house. Every time it would push up on its legs it would immediately collapse back to the ground.
I wondered if maybe John had made a mistake and accidentally shot the animal, so I ran out to investigate and found that the animal was a dog. It had foam and blood around its muzzle. She was vulnerable and helpless – had just been shot, after all – but instead of lashing out at me or growling as I’d expect an injured animal to do, she was looking up at me with an expression of trust and seemed to be expecting me to take care of her.
“John!” I yelled, running after the farmer. He turned around, surprised to see me. “John, what happened?” I asked, pointing back towards the dog.
A look of remorse came into his eyes. “Oh, I’m sorry you saw that, Karen. The dog is a stray and it’s been chasing my cows. I had to kill it.”
“But John, it’s not dead yet.”
John looked back at the dog and grimaced. “Oh man,” he said. “I’m really sorry. I’ll go finish the job. Put it out of its misery.”
By this time another dog had joined the dog that had been shot. It was running around its friend, barking encouragement, trying to get its buddy to rise up and escape. The sight of the one dog trying to help his comrade broke my heart. I made a quick decision. “Let me and my husband take care of it.”
“Are you sure?”
I nodded and he agreed to let me do what I could for the animal.
Unbeknownst to me, as soon as I ran out of the house my husband, knowing that something was wrong, had gotten out his binoculars and was watching my progress in the field. He saw the look on my face as I ran back. By the time I reached our house he was ready to do whatever he needed to do to help me. I explained the situation to him, we put together a box full of towels, and he called the vet.
As we drove his truck around to where the dog lay in the field, I noticed that, while the dog’s canine companion had finally left the scene (never to be seen again), John had gone to the dog and was kneeling down next to her. He was petting her, using soothing words to comfort her, and the dog was looking up at John with that look of trust she’d given me. John helped my husband load her in the back of the truck and we began our drive to the vet’s.
I rode in the back of the truck with the dog as my husband drove, and sang hymns to her. As I sang words from one of my favorite hymns from the Christian Science Hymnal– “Everlasting arms of Love are beneathe, around, above” – the dog leaned against my shoulder and looked up at me with an expression of pure love in her blue eyes.
Once we reached the animal clinic, the veterinarian came out to take a look at her. After checking her over he told us that apparently a bullet had gone through her head, that he’d take care of her over the holiday weekend – keep her warm and hydrated – but that he wasn’t going to give her any medical treatment. I got the distinct impression that he didn’t think the dog was going to make it.
My husband and I went to my parents’ home for the Christmas weekend, both of us praying that the dog would still be alive when we returned. For me, praying for her really meant trying to see the dog as God sees her. I tried to realize the wholeness and completeness of her as an expression of God, an idea of God. I reasoned that all the dog could experience was the goodness of God – all she could feel is what Love feels, all she could know is what Truth knows, all she could be is the perfect reflection of God. I tried to recognize the reality of these things for me, too, and for all of God’s creation.
She made it through the weekend, but when we went to pick her up the vet told us that she wasn’t “out of the woods, yet.” He told us that if she couldn’t eat, drink, or walk on her own in the next few days, we’d need to bring her back and he’d need to put her to sleep.
We brought her home and put her in a big box in our living room, with a bowl of water and soft dog food by her side. I continued to pray. In the middle of the night I got up and went out to where she lay in her box. Impulsively, I bent down and scooped some water from the dish into her mouth. She swallowed it, and then leaned over and drank a little from the bowl. I was elated! Inspired by her reaction to the water, I bent over and grabbed a glob of dog food and threw a little onto her tongue. She smacked her mouth together, swallowed the food, and leaned over to eat a bit more. Now I was beyond elated! She’d accomplished two of the three requirements the vet had made for her!
The next day I took her out for a walk. She’d take a few steps and then lean against me. Then she’d take a few more steps and lean. But she was walking! We would not be taking her back to the veterinarian.
In the next two weeks her progress was amazing. By the end of that period she was not only walking, but running and jumping and chasing balls. Her appetite was healthy. She was having no problems drinking or eating.
But one of the most amazing parts of this whole Christmas blessing was the relationship that developed between this dog and the man who had shot her. They became good friends. The dog, in fact, became the neighborhood mascot. (And she never again chased anyone’s cows.)
What the dog brought to me, who had, if you recall, been in a deep funk when she entered our lives, was a sense of the true spirit of Christmas – the Christly spirit of forgiveness, hope, faith, love. She brought me the recognition that nothing, absolutely nothing, is impossible to God.
We named our new dog Christmas because that is what she brought us that year.
Within a few years all those things that I had wondered if I would ever have as part of my life came to me – a teaching job, children, and a home of our own. It is my belief that our Christmas Dog prepared my heart to be ready for all of those things to enter my life.
There are now four books in the Madcap Christian Scientist series (five if you count *The Madcap Christian Scientist’s Christmas Book*). Here’s the intro to the first book:
Years ago an old boyfriend said to me, “I can’t see that Christian Science has made you any better than anyone else.”
“I know!” I said, nodding my head in complete and happy agreement, “But can you imagine what I’d be like without it?!”
He raised his eyebrows and laughed. What could he say? He was looking at a self-centered, moralistic, stubborn idealist who saw everything in terms of black and white. But I could have been worse. I believe without Christian Science I would have been worse.
Let’s get one thing clear from the start: I am not the best example of a Christian Scientist. I’m not as disciplined as I could be. I have fears and worries and doubts. I’m a little neurotic. I am the Lucy Ricardo of Christian Scientists.
I should probably put in a disclaimer here, too—the views expressed in these pages are not necessarily the views shared by other Christian Scientists. Christian Scientists are really a pretty diverse group of people—there are Democrat Christian Scientists and Republican Christian Scientists, “Green,” and “Red,” and “Blue” Christian Scientists, and Christian Scientists with no political affiliations at all. Frankly, I like that about us. We keep each other on our toes.
I should also tell you that this book is not an authorized piece of Christian Science literature. If you want to actually study Christian Science you should probably read the textbook for this way of life, Science and Health with Key to the Scriptures by Mary Baker Eddy.
My purpose for writing this epistle is really two-fold (I don’t think I’ve ever used the word “two-fold” in my life, and using it now is making me feel sort of professorial. I like the feeling.):
First-foldly, to introduce you to one Christian Scientist so that if you ever hear someone talking fearfully and ignorantly (feargnorantly?) about Christian Scientists you’ll be in a position to say, “I have a friend who’s a Christian Scientist, and, although it’s true she’s a bit of a nut, she’s also…” and you can go on and talk about how your friend has used her study of Christian Science to try to make the world a happier place.
Second-foldly, I feel the need to acknowledge God’s blessings in my life. I don’t want to be like those nine lepers in the Bible who couldn’t take the time to thank Jesus for healing them. I want to be like that one leper who “fell down on his face at his feet” before Jesus and gave him thanks (Luke 17). Through my study of Christian Science I’ve witnessed some incredible proofs of our Father-Mother God’s love for Her creation in my life. God has filled my life with infinite blessings and it’s time for me to acknowledge these blessings to others. -Karen Molenaar Terrell
Note to self: Be patient with others, and with yourself, too. We are living in a society where people will assume the worst of others, and attribute the worst intentions to each other. People are on the defensive and in pain – shattered from years of being bullied and shamed and denigrated. Be patient. Be kind. Look for the good in others. Look for the good in yourself, too.
We’re all doing the best we can. -Karen Molenaar Terrell
Things I learned on the Amazon Discussion Forums (the forums were on Amazon from 2007 to 2017 and I was involved with the forums from 2007 to about 2011):
1) Read and reread and edit. You don’t have to shoot from the hip. The beauty of written discourse is that you have time to think about what you want to say in your responses to others. Don’t be afraid to use the delete button.
2) You actually don’t have to respond at all. Just because someone has tagged you in a comment or a post doesn’t mean you have to invest time and energy in responding. You get to choose how you want to spend your time.
3) If you’re going to respond to someone, take the time to actually read their comment/post and try to see their perspective. See if there’s something you can learn from them.
4) Don’t be afraid to apologize if someone catches you in a mistake. Humility is a beautiful thing.
5) When possible, bring humor into the discussion, and especially don’t be afraid to laugh at your own foibles and flaws. We all have them.
6) If you find yourself launching a personal attack on someone – delete, delete, delete. Personal insults never ever ever solve anything or make anything better.
7) If you see someone being bullied, step up and come to their defense.
8 ) Do not take offense. Do not get all fluffed-up and indignant if someone disagrees with you or appears to be criticizing your beliefs. Don’t take any of that personally. People will disagree with you sometimes, and it’s okay.
9) Don’t expect everyone to have the same beliefs as you, and don’t think that they’re “stupid” if they don’t. There are as many perspectives as there are people on the planet.
At two in the morning on the day of the election I woke up feeling like I was riding on a collective wave of joy – like I was part of a cosmic celebration. I hadn’t had that feeling before an election since… well, I don’t think I’ve ever had that feeling before an election, so I took this feeling as a good sign – as a sign that everything was going to go as I hoped it would.
And when things didn’t go as I hoped, I found myself in a crisis, wondering if everything I believe about the power of Love and Truth is a lie. Wondering if there really is a God.
What was kind of odd, though, was that – even as I was having these dark thoughts – I could feel Love with me, loving me. But I turned away from that sense of Love-with-me and tossed and turned for a while before I finally got to sleep.
Here’s what happened today:
– The youngest son called to see how I was doing and just hearing his voice through the line – and hearing his wife’s laughter in the background – lifted me up.
– I decided to go for a hike at Lake Padden. On the way I pulled over, and put my emergency lights on, to take a picture of a reflection on Lake Samish. Before I even got out of the car, another car did a u-turn and the driver – a twenty-something with piercings on her face, and a kind smile – pulled in behind me to check on me and make sure I was alright. I was so grateful for her kindness in stopping to check on me! I felt myself lifted up a bit more.
– As I sat at a picnic table at Lake Padden, a little dog named Lock trotted over to me for a pet on his back. He sat with me for several minutes as I petted him, every now and then looking up at me with a look of pure love on his face. It was like having my own emotional support dog there, comforting me with his sweetness.
– I passed a woman named April, with her dog, Aspen. Like Lock, Aspen approached me for a scratch behind the ears. And when April and I got to talking we realized we were both processing the same election shock. Pretty soon we were joined by Judy, who also was dealing with election trauma. We gave each other a group hug, and then Judy let us know that there was a young woman sitting up at the picnic table who was struggling. So April and I (and Aspen) went to join the woman at the picnic table. She was wearing a gay pride rainbow hat, and she was soon joined by two friends who let us know they were from the LGBTQ community. The woman in the rainbow hat and her friends were all feeling scared and abandoned by their country. April and I let them know that they aren’t alone – that we’re standing together with them.
– When I got home I clicked into Facebook and found my friend, Jay Bowen, had posted a post about a vigil being held at the Burlington Lutheran Church. So I zipped my jacket back on and headed for the church.
I hadn’t really cried, yet, but as soon as I entered the church I felt tears welling up in my eyes, and by the time I’d seated myself on a pew I was quietly sobbing and shaking – I hadn’t know that was in me until then. A woman in the pew ahead of me turned around and it was Becky! – a parent of one of my former eigthh graders. Becky went up to the first pew and grabbed a box of tissues for me and then came back and gave me a hug. Not long after I saw Becky, I recognized another friend, Kaci – who was seated in the second row. I approached Kaci and touched her arm, and when she turned around and saw me, her eyes opened wide and she reached out for a hug. We cried healing tears together for a couple of minutes, before I returned to my pew.
The speakers in the Lutheran church spoke of allowing people to mourn in their own way; spoke of the courage and endurance that have overcome tribulation in the past; spoke of the importance of community and family; spoke of the importance of appreciating every breath and moment; spoke of not letting ayone take our smiles and humor; and spoke of a loving God whose intent isn’t to bring us doom, but to bring healing to us and through us.
It was comforting to be with other people today who were dealing with the same things I’m dealing with.
And now, sitting here, I realize the message the Cosmos has been sending me all day: “You are not alone. The world is full of people (and pups) who care. You are loved.” And maybe that’s all the reason I need to celebrate with the Cosmos. Maybe the wave of joy I felt early in the morning on election day had nothing to do with the election, and everything to do with divine Love. Love is not dependent on human circumstances, and we can never be separated from it. -Karen Molenaar Terrell
Go out there and live this day like this is the last day you have to live. Show kindness with wild abandon. Look for every opportunity to express Love. Share laughter with people in desperate need of a good laugh. Lift hearts. Bring joy. Give hope. Let every hour be your finest hour. Treasure every moment you’ve been given.
Truth is the only power and presence – the Creator of all that is real. Love fills all space, reaching to infinity. Life is infinite and universal and eternal. All that Love creates expresses Love. All that Life creates manifests infinite Life. All that Truth creates is the reflection of Truth. All that is good comes from God, and God is all. All is good.
We are the image and likeness of Love; the reflection of Truth; the manifestation of Life; the children of the one Mind. We are the expressions of Good, God.
The belief that we can feel fear, anger, hate, or confusion is a lie for we are made by divine Mind and all we can feel is what divine Mind feels. There isn’t the teensiest, tiniest part of us that can feel fear or anger or hate because we are made wholly in the image and likeness of divine Mind. The belief that we have our own little mortal mind is a lie. Mortal mind is no part of our real identities as God’s children. Fear is no part of us. Hate is no part of us. We were made by Love and for Love, and anything that’s not of Love is a lie and has nothing to do with us.
God – Life, Truth, Love – governs the universe in perfect, indestructible harmony. God governs Her creation with the unfailing, unceasing, irrepressible, unstoppable, insurmountable power of Love. The belief that God’s government can be usurped is a lie for nothing can usurp Love’s governing of Her own creation. Nothing has the power to usurp Truth’s government.
Feel the presence and power of Love enfolding you in Her loving embrace. You are safe. You are loved. You are Her precious child, never separated from all that is good. -Karen Molenaar Terrell
Adventures of the Madcap Christian Scientist 