T’was two weeks afore Christmas and all through Eff Bee not a creature was stirring – not a they, she, or he. We were prostrate and spent from the holiday bustle not a twitch could be seen from the teeniest muscle.
We lay all unblinking in our respective beds while visions of gift-wrapping swirled through our heads. And clad in our jammies and our way cool madcaps we had the vague hopeful hope our bodies would take naps.
Holiday jangles and jingles pinged through our brains – Presley, Crosby, and Mathis taking us down memory lanes – and would we remember every member to be gifted? We mentally went through our lists, hoping none were omitted.
There were homes to be decorated and cards to be sent; parties, caroling, and cookie-making, and we hadn’t made a dent. But with a collective sigh we remembered there and then that it’s really about good will to all creatures – every they, her, and him.
And so our thoughts finally settled and our bodies relaxed as we thought of those we love and a world festooned in pax. With our hearts wrapped in kindness and the world as our ‘hood We’re all brethren and sistren – and verily, It’s all good! – Karen Molenaar Terrell, The Madcap Christian Scientist’s Christmas Book
Today may you love the hell out of the world. May you open the floodgates of Love and let Love water the weary hearts athirst for kindness and caring. May you refuse to allow fear and hate to steal your hope and courage. May the bigots, bullies, and busybodies be transformed by your open hearts and good will to all. May the stodgy, stuffy, and stingy be transformed by your irrepressible joy. May you bring laughter to those in sorry need of a good laugh, and hope to those ascared of the future.
Kurt Vonnegut said, “I urge you to please notice when you are happy, and exclaim or murmur or think at some point, ‘If this isn’t nice, I don’t know what is.'”
And this morning I took notice. This morning was magic – from beginning to end – this morning was magic:
I decided today would be a good day to make my monthly drive to La Conner and pay my broadband bill. As I was getting in my car to head out, I had my first snow geese sighting of the year – a flock of them flew right over our house!
I stopped on the way to La Conner to take a quick walk on the Padilla Bay Dike Trail, and saw a blue heron flapping around a couple of egrets – that was very cool – I don’t often see egrets up here. And I don’t think I’ve ever seen them with a heron.
Jolyne and Jeri were both manning the broadband office today – I always enjoy seeing them every month – they are a comedy team. Jolyne was talking today about starting a “J and J” podcast and I would watch that, for sure.
After I paid my bill I headed towards the La Conner boardwalk for a walk along the Swinomish Channel. On my way to the boardwalk I spotted a squirrel hopping along the street, one of the last of this year’s dragonflies, and a bee on the last of this year’s flowers. I met a man named Don on the boardwalk, in La Conner for a reunion with some of his friends from the Seattle University class of 1962. As we chatted I found out he’d grown up in Winlock – he didn’t think I would have even heard of Winlock – but, coincidentally, I have a couple of friends who grew up there! It was fun to find that connection.
I hadn’t been planning this, but when I got to the Calico Cafe, I decided to turn in there for lunch. I asked for a seat outside, and the hostess led me to a nice seat in the sunshine where I could watch the seagulls and pigeons winging over the water, and the fishing boats motoring by on the channel. The hostess was cheery and helpful and brought me a mocha and punched my espresso card while I waited for the waitress.
It was perfect out there – just the right temperature – I could feel the sun warming my back. I felt safe and happy. I had everything I needed in that moment. And I looked around at all the life going on around me – the birds and the people and the little ladybug in the potted plants. Such joy!
When Kaya, the waitress, came for my order, I ordered a pesto froccacia scramble – scrambled eggs full of spinach, tomatoes, feta cheese, and focaccia bread. When Kaya brought it out, I just looked at the beauty of it for a moment. Took a picture of it with Kaya – I told her she had to be in the picture, too – and she graciously let me include her in the photo. I asked Kaya her name and she told me and then I told her my name was (pause for dramatic effect) “Karen” and she started laughing, passing my Karen Test.
Two women came into the outside dining area with a little girl skipping along behind them. The way the little girl approached life just tickled me. She was just so happy to be there. I chatted to the women and found out that they were sisters and the little girl was the daughter of one of them.
Kaya came up to give me a box for my leftovers and to give me my bill. I told her everything was just perfect. I was enjoying one of life’s perfect moments. She smiled and got a little teary and thanked me for sharing that.
As I got up to leave the mother of the little girl turned and wished me a good day, and I told her then that I love the way her little girl approached life – just so happy.
As I walked back to my car I passed a couple on the sidewalk and said, “Isn’t it a perfect day?” And they smiled and agreed it was.
I stopped to wave to the balcony of the apartment where Mom and Dad used to live, and felt Moz waving back to me. I felt her walking with me in Love.
This morning was perfect. And I’m so glad I let myself be conscious of that.
So yesterday I’m eating breakfast by myself at the Harris Cafe. Some young folks come in and sit at the table next to me – two women and a man probably in their early twenties. And, of course, I’m listening into their conversation. And they’re funny and laughing at themselves and supportive of each other and they’ve got that energy, you know? And I find myself sitting there with a big grin on my face – just soaking in the joy.
After I’m done with my breakfast, as I get up to leave, I just have to stop and say something to these young ‘uns. So I turn to them and explain that I’m a retired high school teacher and the mother of two sons who are now all grown up – and that I’ve been missing the energy of young people. I tell them how much I’ve enjoyed their kindness to each other and their laughter. And they smile these warm, open smiles back at me, and nod their heads in understanding, and one of the women says, “Thank you!” and “You need to call your son!”
I ended up going to a movie, “Blackberry,” with my youngest son and his wife yesterday afternoon. And that was so fun! And then when I got home I called my oldest son in Australia and videochatted with him – I told him the story of meeting the three young people at the restaurant and told him I was obeying the orders of the young woman who told me to call my son. We had a wonderful chat together – and laughed and hugged each other over the phone. It was good.
And now I’m sitting here smiling and crying simultaneously. I do this a lot lately. There’s a feeling that can’t be put into a nice neat box and labeled “sad” or “happy” or “bad” or “good.” It’s deeper than all of those things. It goes beyond “bad” or “good.” It just IS.
Sitting next to those young people yesterday – soaking up their energy – was a gift for me. -Karen Molenaar Terrell
“When the heart speaks, however simple the words, its language is always acceptable to those who have hearts.” -Mary Baker Eddy, “Heart to “Heart” in Miscellaneous Writings
I step out of the door for a walk around the block and am instantly surrounded in the magic of a spring evening in the ‘hood – immersed in birsong and frogsong and the fragrance of spring flowers as the cool air embraces them and in the sky a star twinkles at me connecting me to the divine – to a cosmos bigger than my problems, enveloping me in Its peace and joy
I am a part of something amazing -Karen Molenaar Terrell
On this day six years ago – and it was a Monday then, too – my mom was brought by ambulance to our home to begin hospice. We weren’t sure how much time we had left with Mom. I wasn’t sure how we were going to make this work – Scott and I were still working full-time then and we planned on taking turns caring for Mom, but we hadn’t, exactly, figured out when we were going to sleep. We just threw ourselves into this and trusted that it would all work out. We didn’t want Mom to be brought from the hospital to an institution where she’d be surrounded by strangers. We wanted her here with us. It felt right.
Mom and I spent the day telling each other how much we loved each other. At one point she became very tired – too tired to talk – but I was greedy and asked her, once again, if she loved me. Her eyes fastened on me and the look she gave me was pure love- I still see that look in her eyes at times when I need to remember her love.
I went to bed at 9:00 to sleep for a few hours while Scott took the first shift. I’d just fallen asleep when Scott came up to the bedroom to tell me that Mom wanted to talk to me.
I came downstairs and saw Mom sitting up from the hospital bed with a grin on her face. She looked all excited, like she was going to a party or something. I explained to her that I was going to sleep for a little bit, but that I’d come down to be with her at midnight. I told her she wasn’t going to be alone. One of us was going to be with her all the time. She grinned and said, “Okay!”
When I came down at midnight, Moz was sleeping. I gave her some medication when I first came down and some more an hour and half later. I stretched out on the couch next to Mom’s hospital bed to rest a little. About 3:00 in the morning I had this beautiful dream of green fields and rolling hills and butterflies – my dream was full of joy. And I felt something brush by me – touch me – and I felt love and peace as this presence brushed by me.
I woke up then. Mom wasn’t struggling to breathe and I thought, “Oh, I don’t need to give her any medication.” I started to go back to sleep and then… I realized. I got up and felt her and she was starting to feel cool. I went upstairs and got Scott and told him I thought Moz had passed. But I wasn’t sure. There’s such a thin veil between this life and whatever comes after. Scott came down and felt her pulse and told me, “Moz is gone, Sweetie.”
We called hospice, and a nurse came out and talked us through what happened next. I’ll be forever grateful to Hospice of the Northwest for their help through this process.
Moz’s passing was one of the most holy and beautiful things I’ve ever experienced. I’m so grateful that we brought her into our home that last day. -Karen Molenaar Terrell
inside the twirling house in Wizard of Oz tilting and spinning around in circles without a pause scared and alone in the dark the walls and floorboards creaking and popping and then suddenly I’m bopping and hopping to Alison Krauss’s rendition of “I Will” in an irredescent bubble of joy and peace floating above the troubled rubble until it gets smaller and smaller and disappears into the nothing it is and I see all there is, or ever has been, is Love, and nothing can stop the joy -Karen Molenaar Terrell
Others talk of an admonishing god – a lecturing god, an angry and exasperated god – a strict father who gives eternal time-outs to his children in hell.
But I have the God I need – Father and Mother, smiling on me laughing with me protecting and guiding me through Life’s playground, taking my hands and swinging me and spinning me over the bumps until I’m laughing so hard with my Father-Mother-Friend that I have tears on my face.
I want to hibernate – just go to sleep until we’re all together again – only be awake for those moments when you’re all near. Maybe I can function while I sleep – look like I’m awake and appear to do all the things that society requires of me – until your return.
Or…
Alternatively, I could fill those waiting moments with love and joy – I might as well, right? And then when we all meet again one day around the family table I’ll have something valuable to share – I’ll be ready and able.
Adventures of the Madcap Christian Scientist 