I am my own country,
just a visitor in this one,
passing through on my way
to home.
In my country I am enjoined
to be kind, to be honest, to share,
to dare to be fair, and to care
for those I pass on my journey.
I am my own country.
-Karen Molenaar Terrell
Going minimal-
ist. My only task in this
moment is to breathe.
-Karen Molenaar Terrell
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
My dear Humoristians –
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.
Go out there and work your magic!
Karen
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
Life gave me an incredible gift today.
A month or so ago an old student of mine from Emerson High School texted me to see if we could meet for coffee. I was surprised, but not, to hear from Hector.
I’d been thinking of him – remembering the time we’d been taking turns reading out loud from an astronomy book, and he’d read a passage that said something like: “The stars you see in the night sky are bringing you a story from thousands of years ago.” His head had popped up and his eyebrows had come together in a puzzled frown. “What’s that supposed to mean?” he’d asked.
I told him that the light we see from the stars took thousands of years to reach us – so we’re not seeing the light from the stars as they are right now – we’re seeing the light from the stars as they were thousands of years ago.
His eyebrows lifted then and his eyes got huge. “WHOAH. That’s CRAZY!” he’d exclaimed. And then he’d started talking about how cool it would be to be an astronaut.
I hadn’t seen Hector for several years and was wondering how he was doing – hoping all was well with him – so when he’d texted out of the blue, it felt like a cosmic coincidence to me.
We arranged to meet today at Whidbey Coffee in Burlington. And oh! It was so good to see Hector again! He is a remarkable young man.
We hugged and I bought us coffees (he told me I didn’t need to buy his coffee for him, but I insisted) and we settled into a couple of comfortable chairs near the window. And for the next two hours we talked and laughed and got caught up. Hector’s life has changed a lot since I last saw him. He felt the need to make a new start for himself and moved to Seattle to work with his brother in carpentry.
He loves his work as a carpenter – he showed me the houses he’d helped build – he said he did everything in building the houses except the drywalling. He’s excited about all he’s learning on his job. He showed me photos and videos from his backpacking trips – he said he found a group of friends in Seattle who introduced him to hiking and rock-climbing – and he’s totally hooked on outdoors adventures now. Last summer, he told me, he hiked 25 miles in one day in the Enchantments. I told him I’d backpacked there years ago with a friend, and remembered how beautiful it was. He showed me his photos from the trip – and his photos showed his talent for capturing the beauty around him.
Then Hector told me that he’s gotten big into jujitsu – trains for competitions – and during the course of his training he discovered one of his favorite sparring partners was a pastor at a church in Seattle. And in connecting with this pastor he found a church community and found God. He was so excited about all he’s learning about God’s love, and so eager to share what he’s learned.
He said one of his favorite passages in the Bible is the one about building your house on sand. When we’d talked about Hector’s carpentry, we’d talked about the importance of a house being “plumb” – if the first floor is plumb, square, and level then the floors above the first floor will be, too. So the parable of the house built on the sand means something to Hector, the carpenter. He said if you build a house on the sand you can keep adding on to it – floor after floor – more and more – and it can be a 10-story house, but if that first floor is built on sand then it’s all going to come down in a windstorm. You need to build your foundation on the rock, he said – on God.
I told him it seemed that God had been leading him to this spiritual place, and he smiled and nodded and agreed. He asked me, then, about my own experience with God – and, for the first time – because he’s no longer my student – I felt free to share my own spiritual journey with him.
I asked Hector what had led him to text me. He thought for a moment and then said that he’d had struggles in high school, hadn’t really liked school until he came to me as a contract-based student, working with me one-on-one. He said he felt heard when he was with me. He felt safe. He felt loved.
I started tearing up then. The Cosmos knew what I needed today – and the Cosmos sent me Hector.
-Karen Molenaar Terrell
The despicable, hateful, fear-inducing, violence-inciting things he says that target my friends in the LGBTQ community and the Haitian and Puerto Rican immigrant communities, and those who’ve served and died in the military, tell me everything I need to know about his “policies”
No, I was not better off under his presidency. And the economy is only going to get worse if he’s elected and his plans for the economy are implemented – his tariffs would bring up the cost of groceries and deporting millions of farm workers would, too.
I don’t want to hear even one more person say they don’t like him, but they like his policies. His policies are all based on hate and greed.
I’ve been debating with myself if I should put this out there – most of us have probably already voted by now, and I’m pretty sure nothing I write here is going to make any difference anyway. But… on the flip side, I think I’d have a hard time living with myself if I didn’t say something. So. Yeah. Here goes.
I’m pretty sure the swing states are getting bombarded with a lot of political ads that never reach us here in Washington State. But every now and then – usually when we’re watching some nationally-televised sports show – one will pop up. And there’s this one I’ve seen a couple of times now that triggers something in me every time – and I don’t think I’m triggered in the way the politician who sponsored the ad expects me to be triggered.
This ad shows this tall, masculine-looking athlete playing sports on a women’s team. And then the narrator says this: “Kamala’s for they/them. President Trump is for you.”
And that, right there, is just so…. just writing this I’m finding myself triggered again. “Us versus them.” This is the language of haters. This is the language that politicians use to divide us, and to incite violence in us. This is the language politicians use to bring the fearful and ignorant to their flag. This is bigotry, pure and simple. And it scares me for the safety of my LGBTQ friends.
I’m a Boomer AND a former English teacher who, in the olden days, spent time correcting my students’ improper use of the words “they” and “them” – “they” is the plural I’d tell my students and “her” is the singular. I grew up in a generation of people in which society was divided into male and female – and, being a heterosexual female who’s always felt female-ish, I never really thought too much beyond society’s binary system for the sexes. I had friends and acquaintances in the olden days who I knew were gay, but it was never a big deal to me who other people were attracted to and it never occurred to me that I should hate anyone or judge them because of their sexual orientation.
Now, as time has gone on and my circle of friendships has grown, I also have had the opportunity to develop friendships with several transgender people – in the case of my friends, they were assigned the label of “female” when they were born, but have never FELT female, and self-identify as male. And, in recent years, I have witnessed my friends – good, caring, kind, brave people – become more urgent in their cries for help as they’re bullied, threatened, legislated against, and hated on.
And I’m scared for their safety.
So when I see that poltical ad from the Trump campaign, targeting transgender people, I’m triggered. Feeding the fear and hate – feeding the “feargnorance” in others – is shameful and low. It’s despicable. That ad validates, for me, that I voted for the right person by NOT voting for Trump.
Shouldn’t our president be for ALL of us?
“There is neither Jew nor Greek, there is neither bond nor free, there is neither male nor female: for ye are all one and the same in Christ Jesus.“
– Galatians 3:28
I want to share a healing I had this week.
Monday night I discovered that there had been a weird billing error – well, TWO weird billing errors, actually – one from my insurance company and another one from the optometrist’s office. The errors had resulted in the wrong person getting charged for one of my visits to the optometrist – a bill that should have been covered by my insurance, in the first place. When I first learned of the snafu(s), I was pretty stressed, and a little angry on behalf of the innocent family member who’d erroneously been listed as the “guarantor” for my bill.
I couldn’t get to sleep, and eventually came downstairs to read this week’s Bible Lesson Sermon and pray about this situation. This passage from Science and Health was helpful: “We can, and ultimately shall, so rise as to avail ourselves in every direction of the supremacy of Truth over error…” Soon I was filled with this feeling of joy and well-being and it felt like Love was laughing with me about the absurdity of it all, and reassuring me that all was well.
The next morning I woke up early, and at exactly 8:00 am I called the insurance office. A man named Loren answered the phone. I asked him if he had time to hear a really weird story, and he said he did, so I began to lay out the problem I was having with this bill. He listened and every now and then interjected some comment or question. He was very patient with me as I pulled out all the cards from my wallet, trying to find the one with my ID number on it, and when I thanked him for his patience, I could hear the smile in his voice as he told me it was okay. At one point I apologized for being so chatty when I knew he must be tapping away on his keyboard and trying to figure out what the problem was – and he laughed and said he was fine – he was good at multi-tasking. He was kind and patient and had a sense of humor, and in a short time he’d pinpointed the problem and assured me that I didn’t need to worry about this anymore – the insurance company would take care of the bill for me. I asked, “So I didn’t do anything wrong?” And his voice smiled again and he reassured me that I’d done everything right. I told him I wanted to give him a good rating, and he thanked me for that and said he would try to send me through to his manager. I started laughing. “Yes, I am Karen and I want to talk to your manager.” He started laughing then, too. (He was able to transfer my call, but it was never picked up – so I’ll find some other way to give Loren a high rating.)
At 8:30 on the dot I called the optometrist’s office, and a woman named Savannah picked up. When she looked at my account she said a note had already been made there by the insurance company and that I didn’t need to worry about this bill anymore. “I don’t need to worry about this? It’s taken care of?” I asked. And she said yup, I could just throw this bill away. Then I asked her if I could have something in writing about this – I told her I am Karen AND a Virgo AND a boomer – basically, “I’m the trifecta of annoying” – and she started laughing and said she’d send me an email. Within minutes after we’d ended our phone call she had sent an email telling me that the bill was being sent back to the insurance company for payment and I didn’t need to worry about it.
It was such a lovely untangling. There was so much joy and humor and kindness involved in the whole experience. I’m really grateful for this opportunity to prove Love’s power.
– Karen Molenaar Terrell
Little jewels from the last couple of days:
I pull into the Fred Meyer parking lot and park off to the side near the gardening center. As I’m getting my shopping bag and backpack-purse out of my car a tall man – probably a little younger than me, with the build of a retired quarterback – returns to his truck. His truck is parked near my car. He is wearing a red hat and I’m pretty sure I know what it says on it.
I feel suddenly impelled to exchange a greeting with him, but I let the Cosmos decide what’s going to happen here, and finish getting out my stuff. When I go to get a shopping cart in the little cart corral, he’s pushing in a small cart. His red hat does, indeed, say what I thought it would say.
“It’s getting colder!” I observe – weather is always a good place to start, right? He smiles and agrees with me. I notice him glance at my little Fiesta hatchback and I’m sure he’s taking in the bumperstickers there: “GOD BLESS THE WHOLE WORLD. NO EXCEPTIONS.” “MAKE AMERICA GREEN AGAIN.” And whatnot. He glances back at me and smiles. I’m pretty sure he knows we’re from different tribes.
“Do you need a cart?” he asks, offering me the one he just put back, and I smile back at him and thank him, and take the cart from him into the supermarket. I’m still smiling as I enter the store. There is kindness in every tribe.
I pick up the items I need to pick up and check out, then head to the Starbucks counter. The barista – tall, Black, with a longish goatee dyed flamingo-pink – steps up to take my order. I love this guy. He never fails to make me smile. He asks what I’d like and I tell him this will be my first coffee in a month. He gasps. “Honey!” he exclaims in horror, “We need to fix that for you!” While he’s making my pumpkin spice latte he regales me with tales of his dogs and his husband and his grocery-shopping experiences. By the time he hands me my latte I have had a whole day’s worth of laugh out louds. He is like a one-man comedy show. As I leave, I tell a couple of the workers who are sitting at the exit that “I love that guy!” And they nod their heads and laugh. They get it.
I go to the Target parking lot to take pictures of the autumnal trees and then go in the store to explore what they’ve got in there. As I’m browsing I wander down the coffee aisle and see there are a lot of coffee options for Keurig owners, but we are not Keurig owners – so that’s not going to work. There are also, though, bags of ground coffe, and I think, “Oh! I should get one of those French presses and press my own coffee!” So I ask a man stocking shelves if he knows where I might find French presses. He’s really helpful – tells me his wife uses a French press every morning to make her own coffee – and then clicks into his Target device and tells me what aisle I can find French presses in.
I proudly bring my French press home…
The next morning I’m back in Target to return the French press. I tell the customer service lady what happened: “I came home and showed my husband the French press and he said, ‘Karen. We already have two of those.'” The customer service woman starts cracking up and, as she’s efficiently taking care of my return for me, suggests maybe I should buy one for every day of the week. I love people who make me laugh.
On the way home I decide to turn onto Allen West Road just to see what magic I can find there. And there’s that amazing pumpkin display I remember seeing last October! Darla, the owner of Eagle View Farms, comes out to greet me, a big smile on her face. “Karen!” she calls – she remembers my name! It’s so good to see Darla again. It’s our annual reunion, I guess. We talk about her son, Adam, who was in my eighth grade class a couple decades ago – a very cool person – and laugh and chat and laugh some more. She’s covered in mud. She says she’s been cleaning out the gutters while her husband went shopping. I say, dreamily, “Sounds like a Hallmark movie,” and she laughs out loud.
I snap some pictures of her display, and then buy a big yellow pumpkin from her. I ask her how much – there are no signs indicating the price – and she says, “Seven dollars.”
“How much REALLY?” I ask. And she insists it’s seven dollars. Right. So I write her a check for ten, she calls me a stinker, and I ask her how much it really is. She admits it’s ten dollars.
We hug one more time – mud and all – and I drive home with a big yellow pumpkin and my heart full of humanity’s goodness.
-Karen Molenaar Terrell
Adventures of the Madcap Christian Scientist 