A prayer. Love, Truth, and Life fill all space. Love, Truth, and Life fill every moment. Love is always with us. We are never outside the reach of Truth. Life never ends. Love, God, is the only Mind, the only Intelligence, the only power.
Mankind is the expression, reflection, and manifestation of Life, Truth, and Love. All we can know is what Truth knows. All we can feel is what Love feels. All we can be is infinite Life living Itself.
The belief that bureaucracy can interrupt the flow of Truth is a lie, for Truth is the only power – nothing has power over Truth. The belief that disease can stop Life is a lie, for Life, God, is never-failing, never-ending, always present and full – nothing has power over Life. The belief that cruelty can touch any of God’s children is a lie, for all of Creation lives safe in Love, hid with Christ in God.
There is no spot where Truth is not. There is no moment when Love is not. Nothing can usurp Love’s control over Her own Creation. Love is here right now, forever and always: Endless joy; forever Love; never-ending Truth. Amen.
Sunset over flooded fields in Skagit County, Washington State. Photo by Karen Molenaar Terrell.
I expect to see her at the door tail wagging on our walks nostrils quivering one paw raised mid-stride nose covered in dirt from her latest hole unaware of her own beauty sleek and shiny as a black panther, but goofy as a Disney character exhausting exuberant extraordinary friendlly, fetching frisbees and finding – like magic! – every tennis ball that ever landed off a trail. It was a gift she had. Her first night with us she ate a chunk out of our ottoman – which we will now call “The Samantha Terrell Memorial Ottoman.” Then she went through an “electronics”phase – the cellphone (chomp), the remote control (crunch).
Sam loved her neighbors – the dogs and their humans – and her walks around the neighborhood included frisky, friendly greetings – dog greetings and human greetings. And now the neighbors send us flowers and notes: “She was a good girl.” Our neighbors were good friends to Samantha and their notes make me smile – seeing the love. I miss our Samantha the Wonder Dog. -Karen Molenaar Terrell
I saw a terrible thing yesterday – Involving a mama duck and her baby ducklings and a freeway and a car next to me rolling through feathers. I saw a dead body, and downy feathers on little webbed feet scurrying into the woods without their mama. I pulled over and moved the mama’s still-warm body off the road, tried to call to the babies to come out, wanting to gather them in my arms and bring them home, and keep them safe. And who can I talk to about this ache in my heart? Who would understand?
There was a misunderstanding months ago in the supermarket, involving a woman in a Seahawks mask – I thought she could be a new friend. I tried to connect to her in the aisle between bulk foods and olive oil – “Go Seahawks!” I said, muffled behind my mask. She looked at me above her mask, and frowned, and I knew the Seahawks fan didn’t understand what I’d said – – she couldn’t read my lips or see my smile, and I’d scared her – she was Black and I am White and we live in a time of distrust and fear. The Seahawks fan left quickly, before I could explain. And who can I talk to about this ache in my heart? Who would understand?
I drove by a big rhododendron bush with fat red flowers and thought of Mom and the rhododendron bush she’d planted by the front door of our old home and felt a sudden yearning for her warm hugs and her words of comfort and reassurance. If she were still here I could talk to her about the orphaned ducklings and the woman in the Seahawks mask and my fears and worries and insecurities and she would love me. And who do I talk to now about this ache in my heart?
And the answer came in an instant – a joyous Presence enfolded me in peace and love, without question or judgment or condition or hesitation, affirming the power of Good: Love’s communication of never-ending Life and never-ending care for Her creation – care for ducklings, and a woman in a Seahawks mask, and Mom and me. Love knows what’s in my heart. She knows my intent. And I know I can let it all go – She’s got this. Love gives all Her children exactly what we need, exactly when we need it, and in the exactly right way – including Her ducks and Her child in a Seahawks mask and Her child who is my Mom, and Her child who is me.
Who can I talk to about the ache in my heart? My Father-Mother Love. Always and forever. -Karen Molenaar Terrell
“The intercommunication is always from God to His idea, man.” -Mary Baker Eddy
I want to take a break, I said. Can I step out of life for a moment, or maybe stay in bed? Can things go on without me? Can you just pretend I’m not here? For life is a messy business and I’m tired and I’m weary I’ve made too many mistakes to count today And I’d like to not make anymore, not any.
And the still small voice reached into my thought – gentle, peaceable benediction – “All the good you seek and all that you’ve sought you can claim right now – and that’s no fiction – for Love is yours to express, to feel, and to be – you are wealthy beyond description. Nothing else matters, there’s no other power no warring opinions, no need to cower You are loved and you’re loving and that’s all there is to it Love’s loving child, and there’s nothing else but loving, simply nothing.” – Karen Molenaar Terrell, A Poem Lives on My Windowsill
I spent years searching for those perfect moments and then in a perfect moment it became perfectly clear that each and every moment I am closer than near to Love and Truth and Life right now right here every moment is perfect There is never a separation between all that’s good and me. -Karen Molenaar Terrell
Dad is in bed. His eyes are closed. He’s very still, but I see his chest moving. He’s still with us. I lean over and kiss his forehead and say into his ear, “Hi Daddy. It’s Karen.” (There’s no response at first. Then his eyes open and he looks at me.) Dad: (Weakly.) Karen. Karen: I love you, Daddy. Dad: (I can feel the effort he’s making to mumble the words.) Ah uv you. Karen: (Smiling at Dad – my heart filled with tenderness.) You old mountain goat. (That’s what Mom had always called Dad – and it comes to me – out of the blue – to call him that. Dad smiles at me. And now I find myself singing to him – that old Jeannette McDonald-Nelson Eddy song that he and Mom used to sing to each other…) When I’m calling you-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh… (I see Dad perk up a little. I get this sense that Mom is calling to him.)
We don’t say much after this. I stay for a while, stroking Dad’s forehead, and watching “Maverick” on Dad’s television. Every now and then Dad opens his eyes and checks to see if I’m still there. Eventually he falls back to sleep. I leave to go home and fetch my husband and son for a return visit. When I arrive home and describe Dad’s condition, the husband and son immediately let me know they’re with me and we go back to Dad’s house.
We enter Dad’s room and approach the bed. He’s sleeping. We pull up three chairs and watch him for a while. His foot is moving back and forth. I approach Dad’s bed. Karen: Hi, Daddy. It’s Karen. And Andrew is here. And Scotty. (Dad opens his eyes and looks at me.) Karen: I love you, Daddy. (Dad’s eyes are locked on mine and he nods his head at me once, twice. An affirmation. I nod back at him. He reaches up and holds my arm and squeezes it gently. I hold his hand and squeeze. He squeezes my hand back.) Karen: Here’s Andrew, Daddy. (Andrew sits close to his grampa. This is his time with Grampa. Love is exchanged. This time belongs to them and it’s not mine to share in words.) Karen: And here’s Scotty. (Scott grips Dad’s hand and receives a strong grip in return. They both grin at each other. Male bonding.) We all feel when it’s time to leave and let Dad get back to the business of sleeping. I get up and kiss Dad’s forehead and tell him I love him. Scott says his good byes. Andrew is the last to leave – he gets a strong good bye handshake from his grandfather before he leaves him to sleep.
Such a short time we are here! The gravestones remind me of this. Four lie near each other – all younger than I am now when they died: 42, 56, 59, 25. And I am still alive. But it’s such a short time we are here! And when we’re gone – have moved on – what will anyone remember of you – of me? What memories will remain? The accolades, awards, one star or five? How much we owned? How our jewelry shone? Or will we be remembered for our smiles, our kindnesses, our generosity – the way we stood up to bullies, helped lift others up, shared laughter, shared life’s lessons, shared good fully? Such a short time we are here. – Karen Molenaar Terrell
Today the cosmos danced for me at the cemetery. Sitting on a bench, feeling the peace I always feel there, the sun came out and a breeze moved across the grass and autumn flowers at the edge of the grounds. I love you, always and forever, a voice said. Fear not. All is well. Do you feel me with you? Celebrate with me. And how could I not? -Karen Molenaar Terrell
My joy is not dependent on matter – not dependent on flattering chatter – my clothes can be in tatters, my ego-dreams all shattered, and possessions scattered – but I’m alive! I can love! I can learn! Joy is not something I have to earn – not something I need a reason or a special season to feel. – Karen Molenaar Terrell
“Although the fig tree shall not blossom, neither shall fruit be in the vines; the labour of the olive shall fail, and the fields shall yield no meat; the flock shall be cut off from the fold, and there shall be no herd in the stalls: Yet I will rejoice in the Lord, I will joy in the God of my salvation.” – Habbakuk 3:17,18
“Happiness is spiritual, born of Truth and Love. It is unselfish; therefore it cannot exist alone, but requires all mankind to share it.” – Mary Baker Eddy
Adventures of the Madcap Christian Scientist 