Feel the presence of Love, surrounding, abounding, infinite, undiluted, never-ending Good, filling all space and thought. Behold the light rising on a new day, steadily filling the darkness as it comes – irresistible, unstoppable, invincible, unflappable.
The birds stir and sing in a new morning. A gentle breeze filled with the fragrance of sweet life wafts by us. The world wakes.
Before the day begins before the headlines and breaking news I wake in the quiet of the middle of the night, climb into the lap of universal Mother-Love and feel her pull me close, comforting, assuring, “All is well. All, all is well.” I nestle in under Her shoulder, and feel the vibrations of Love’s cosmic humming.
The light is beginning to fill the sky now and I prepare for the new day with Love’s assurance still with me, “All is well. All, all is well.”
I’ve been hesitant to share this because I’m not sure how people will react to it, but… what the heck, right? I think it would be shameful if I let my cowardice prevent me from expressing my gratitude.
A couple of weeks ago I began feeling a pain in my tooth that felt suspiciously like the pain I’d had that had led to a root canal a few years ago. Two weeks ago on Friday I ate something hot and the nagging pain went to a throbbing pain that lasted for hours. My dentist’s office isn’t open on Fridays, or the weekend, so going to the dentist was not an option for me.
I reached out to a Christian Science practitioner for her prayerful support, and very soon I felt the pain diminishing. She gave me some thoughts to work with on the topic of “substance.” As I prayed, I focused on these three ideas: 1) Love, God, made everything, and everything Love made was good. So there is no bad substance. 2) There is no lack or limitation of good substance because Love is infinite and unlimited. 3) Disease is unnatural. This became my mantra – “There’s no bad substance. There’s no lack of good substance. Disease is unnatural.”
At some point that weekend I felt like I’d been healed. The pain was gone. I called the practitioner and thanked her for her support, and told her I was going to take it from there. But doubts continued to enter into my thought. I’m going to visit family in California in a couple weeks, and the idea of dealing with tooth pain while I’m down there was concerning.
So on the next Monday morning I called my dentist and went in to see him a couple days later. I described what the pain had felt like the week before, and he did some tests and looked at some x-rays and said everything pointed to a root canal. His office made an appointment for me to see a periodontist the next day.
As I was driving to the periodontist I listened to CS hymns on my CD player. As the singers were singing about “light,” the light shone through the clouds and landed on me. And I realized I wouldn’t be surprised if the periodontist told me I didn’t need a root canal, after all.
X-rays were taken, tests were performed, and guess what? The periodontist told me I didn’t need a root canal, after all. He said one of my old fillings was going to need to be replaced by a crown at some point, but my regular dentist could do that for me.
Love, God, laughed with me all the way home.
I haven’t felt any tooth pain at all in the last couple of weeks.
Peace. Be still. Listen. Do you hear the song of Love calling to your heart? Do you feel the cool breeze of kindness blowing over our humanity’s fevered skin? Do you see the kinship in the sun and moon, oceans and air we all share? Does the sweet fragrance of spring remind you of things more important than hate and fear and war? The call to Love is universal and irresistible. It will not be ignored.
My dad’s birthday is today. He would have been 107. I’ve put other stuff on my wall about Pop – recycled stories and videos (and have I mentioned Dad is in Wikipedia?) But I thought I’d gift him with something new for his birthday. He’s not really gone, you see. I still feel his presence here with me – not as a ghost or anything – but I feel his smile with me, his humor and his love.
Daddy, I miss our drives together. I miss the conversations we managed to have, even though we were both hard-of-hearing. I remember you sitting in the passenger seat, your head going back and forth as you took in the landscape, telling me about the geologic history of whatever area we were traveling through, and often saying, “I made a field trip out here for the USGS,” or “I hiked that trail,” or “I climbed that,” or “This would make a good painting.”
One of the greatest gifts you passed on to me was a love for the outdoors, and an appreciation of the natural beauty around us. I followed you up to the summits of Hood and Rainier, Baker and Adams – and when I look at those peaks now I’m sort of in awe that I climbed them – who was I to think I could do that?!
I was Dee Molenaar’s daughter, that’s who.
You instilled a confidence in myself that’s gotten me through some really challenging years. Thank you for that gift, too.
Through your travels and connections you met some amazing, fearless people. Your community of fellow adventurers was filled with brave, heroic visionaries. You introduced me to people of all races and all major religions, and exampled for me what it means to love the world’s people without bigotry or discrimination. As a youngster, I hiked with Tenzing Norgay! As a twelve-year-old, I ran a mile down our country road with Doris Brown!! Governor Evans came to our house to borrow climbing equipment one time. And it wasn’t out-of-the-ordinary for me to pick up the phone and find myself talking to Edmund HIllary. You were comfortable moving among both the famous and the not, and always enjoyed meeting new “mountain people.”
You could be stubborn. You could be critical. You could be bossy. But I always knew you loved me. I always felt your support. You let me know you were proud of me. I’m glad I had you for my Pop.
Happy birthday, Daddy!
(Photos: My feet next to Dad’s – I think this was on our climb of Mount Hood when I was 15; a screenshot of what came up when I googled “Dee Molenaar”; Dad, my brother, Pete, and I on Mount Rainier.)
I can imagine it – all the world waking up one morning as if from a strange dream – shaking our heads to clear the last of it from our thoughts and looking around at the beauty surrounding us – the beauty that’s always been here – as if we’re seeing it for the first time. I can imagine us blinking our eyes at the wonder of the first sunrise after our collective awakening. Looking at each other with new eyes – recognizing the Love that’s always bound and connected us to each other. Seeing in each other the splendor of our universal body. I can imagine it like it’s happening right now.
My newsfeed was full of dark and scary things when I turned on my cellphone this morning and I felt myself slipping into the abyss. I knew I needed to get myself up to Bellingham for a therapy session with sunshine and fresh air and smiling people and pups.
As I was walking down the boardwalk towards Boulevard Park, a man on a bicycle approached from the opposite direction. As he went passed he smiled and pointed back the direction he’d come. “Two eagles in the second tree!” he said.
I knew exactly the tree he was talking about and thought maybe if I climbed up to the top of the knoll I’d be closer to the eagles. But when I got up there, I realized the eagles were on the other side of the tree, and I’d actually have a better view of them from down below.
When I got back down on the trail I could see the pair of eagles right above me. I pointed them out to a young woman named Lisa who stopped to enjoy them with me for a bit. Then three women – maybe of three different generations? – stopped to watch the eagles with me. I told them that I’d often seen one eagle up there, but I hadn’t seen two in the tree before. The younger woman said something to the other women and I recognized the Spanish word for “two” – “dos.” I nodded and smiled, “Yes! Dos!” And they all grinned with me. I thanked them for sharing that moment with me. They nodded and smiled. New friends!
When I got down to Boulevard Park, I went into the coffee shop to get an iced coffee. A woman in a pretty dress walked into the coffee shop. Her dress was cheery and colorful and it made me smile. I told the woman I loved what she was wearing and she smiled and thanked me. Then I took my iced coffee out to a picnic table to watch passersby and the boats on the bay.
Pretty soon a fluffy puppy walked by with his humans – a father and a young son. I asked Mario if I could meet his puppy and take a picture and he smiled and said sure. Little Yoshi is a Burmese Mountain dog, and he’s going to get much bigger before he’s done growing. He’s wonderfully photogenic – seemed to know exactly how to pose for me – and Mario told me that Yoshi has his own instagram account with thousands of followers. I am not surprised by this.
A woman stopped at my picnic table with her friend to ask me if I was Karen from Facebook. And this is how I came to at last meet my Facebook friend LaVonne in the person. LaVonne and I travel in a lot of the same FB circles – birding groups and The Seeing Bellingham group. It was very cool that she recognized me. LaVonne and her friend, Gina, sat and chatted with me for a while about birds and sign language (Gina is an expert in this) and the beauty of the day and Gina’s amazing purple hair.
From the picnic table, I could see the pair of eagles still sitting in their tree. It occurred to me that if I went back to my car by way of the road to Boulevard Park, I might actually get a great view of the eagles. So that’s what I did. By using the road, I was able to get pretty close to the raptors. It was cool.
Just as I was getting back to my car, I saw the woman in the pretty dress again – this time with her husband and a pup. I learned her name is Stephanie, and her husband’s name is Nick, and I learned their pup is named Zena. They all (including the pup) graciously agreed to pose for me.
This morning I went in search of magic – and I found it!
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.
June 1: Last night I learned my friend Liz passed on Friday. I’d just sent her a card the week before. I hope she got it. When I think of Liz, the first thing I picture is the laughter in her eyes. Liz knew how to laugh, and she knew how to make me laugh. She actually appears in a couple of my books. Here’s an excerpt from The Madcap Christian Scientist: All Things New:
Last year I served another term as first reader at the local Christian Science church. For those of you who aren’t familiar with Christian Science church services, the first reader puts together the readings and conducts the mid-week testimony meetings, and, together with the second reader, presents the weekly lesson-sermon on Sundays…
…I could not have asked to have a better partner on the podium. Liz served as second reader last year, and she is a joy – fun, smart, great sense of humor – and she’s a really classy dresser, too (which sort of balances out my own “dang!-what-do-I-have-to-wear-that’s-clean?” look).
Most Sundays Liz beat me to church, and had already put the hymn numbers up for me, had her second reader stuff laid out on the podium, and was looking classy and put-together when I came bursting through the door.
But there was one Sunday when I actually beat her by about ten minutes! I was feeling pretty smug about it, too. “Liz! I got here before you this morning! Aren’t you proud of me?”
“Yes,” Liz said, “I’m very proud of you. Every day I pray, ‘God, please help Karen get her shit together this week’ and I’m so glad to see my prayers worked.”
Ohmygosh. The laughter just burst from me – I was laughing so hard I bent up double and had to wipe the tears from my face. I had a hard time keeping a straight face during the service that day. I still get a grin on my face when I think about Liz’s response to me.
Liz is exactly the kind of person I’d like to see reading from every Christian Science podium.
And here’s a dialogue between Liz and another friend, Karen Ann, when I posted a sale that Google was having on me a couple of years ago (I’ll attach the photo of “the sale” in the comments below):
Elizabeth E. Fisher I’ll have 2. And can I get those gift wrapped?
Karen Ann You’re giving them away???
Elizabeth E. Fisher Karen Ann actually, I’m going to raffle them off!
Karen Ann Wow! You’ll be able to retire to like a desert trailer park or something! Wish I’d thought of that!!!.
Elizabeth E. Fisher Raffle tickets are $1.00 a piece or 4 for $5.00. How many do you want? Desert trailer parks aren’t cheap!
Karen Ann I’ll take two at the 4/$5 rate. That’s $2.37 I think.
Elizabeth E. Fisher Depends on whether you are paying in bitcoin or greenbacks.
It’s been 20 years since I published Blessings: Adventures of a Madcap Christian Scientist. I remember giving bound copies of my manuscript to my mom and my aunts for Mother’s Day. It was a way for me to honor them – to honor the lives they lived and the good they brought into my life by exemplifying what it means to live with kindness and integrity.
But I also wrote Blessings because I wanted to share with my friends what being a “Christian Scientist” meant for me. When a friend who had known me for years asked me, “If I was hit by a car and was bleeding in the street, would you just pray over me and let me bleed to death?!” I realized that she was burdened with a huge misconception about me, and about my beliefs. It shocked and saddened me. I assured her that I would do everything I needed to do for her humanly – I’d use my First Aid and CPR training; I’d call 9-1-1. And I would also be praying.
I felt the need to demystify this way of life for my friends.
Fittingly, Blessings has brought many blessings into my life! Through my book I’ve met new friends from a wide array of religions and non-religions – atheists and agnostics, Methodists, LDS, Lutherans, Muslims, Jews, Buddhists, Pagans, Catholics, Unitarian Universalists. It was through *Blessings* that I was first invited to speak at the local UU fellowship (I’ll be making my fifth trip there as a speaker next November.) And through my book I’ve met other CSists who share a similar “take” on this way of life.
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
Here’s the AI-generated summary of the reviews: “Customers find the book inspirational, particularly appreciating its prayerful approach to life. They describe it as heartwarming and an interesting memoir, with one customer noting how the author shares her life stories with joy. The writing style receives positive feedback for being beautifully written, and customers value the author’s honesty in sharing her experiences.” (AI-generated from the text of customer reviews.)