“In the end, it was actually my background in Christian Science that gave me the courage to get the vaccine.”
Several folks dear to me – family and friends – have asked me if I was planning to get the COVID vaccine. To those dear ones concerned about my well-being: I already got my first dose last week.
If you know me, you can probably imagine the thought that went into this decision. In the end I got the shot for my community – to help the people around me feel safe and comfortable, and to help alleviate any worries they might have for me. And I got the shot so I could travel and be with my friends and family without the guilt and responsibility I might feel if I didn’t get the shot.
I had to address a lot of fear in my thoughts before I got the vaccine. To be honest, I was more scared of the vaccine than the virus. I’ve always been less than enthused about getting vaccines – and not because I’m a Christian Scientist (pfft) – but because I’ve had this belief that my body was designed to heal itself naturally and I didn’t want to interfere with that “healing process.” In the end, it was actually my background in Christian Science that gave me the courage to get the vaccine. As I was thinking about my fears, metaphysically, it came to me that it made no sense to think it’s unnatural to put humanly-made vaccines in my body, but to accept the virus as “natural.” Metaphysically, none of it is natural, and none of it can touch my real, spiritual identity as the expression, idea, reflection, image, likeness, manifestation, and child of Love and Truth. I am safe in God. We all are hid safely in our Father-Mother.
So. There you have it. My second vaccine is scheduled in a couple weeks. -Karen Molenaar Terrell
“The temporal and unreal never touch the eternal and real.” – Mary Baker Eddy
“Let not your heart be troubled…” – John 14
“Your life is hid with Christ in God.” – Colossians 3:3
“Render unto Caesar the things that are Caesar’s.” – Matthew 22:21
“Whatever it is your duty to do, you can do without harm to yourself.” – Mary Baker Eddy
He was waiting outside the store when I came out with my groceries and I said hi. He smiled and said hi back. Give and take. Who taught him to smile? Who taught me?
I started to wheel my cart to my car mentally scrolling through my shopping list to see if I had anything to share with him. Tangerines! I rolled my cart back towards him. You want an orange? Sure! Can you catch it? Yeah! And he smiled at the idea of a game of catch. I tossed. He caught. Who taught me how to throw? Who taught him how to catch? My dad? His dad? And now our dads are connected in our give and take.
As Scott drove west, a train engine went west in reverse. Our car passed the train as the engineer sat facing me and I smiled across the tracks at him and he smiled and waved back to me. I caught his wave and returned it. Who taught him how to wave? Who taught me? All the cosmos connected in a giant give and take. -Karen Molenaar Terrell
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 have been a lot of people in my life – I’ve been the daughter, the sister, the wife, mother, grey-haired lady, and young lass. I was once the littlest girl in my class – thought too skinny by some who couldn’t see that playing was more fun than eating. I won the blue ribbon for the broad jump and the dash in fourth grade. I was the queen of multiplication tables in the fifth grade, and in sixth grade my teacher said I “ran like a deer.”
I was the new girl in school that year and someone wrote “brainbucket sits here” on my desk. Then I was the nerdy girl in black frame glasses who weighed more than 100 pounds and thought she was fat and my eighth grade PE teacher said, “We finally found something you’re good at” when I was always the last one standing in the volleyball elimination games – she didn’t see that I ran like a deer.
I was shy in high school, but some people thought I was a snob – I saw myself as an unmemorable blob. I was Karen when Karen Valentine was everyone’s favorite ingénue and I was Karen when it meant something else, too.
I’ve been chubby, pretty, plain, dazzling, athletic, awkward, confident, insecure, dull, creative, boring, funny, judgmental, self-centered, open-minded, and generous. And I guess “I” am still all of those things – depending on who’s looking at me.
But the I who’s not in quotation marks is what God, Love, sees when She looks at me. -Karen Molenaar Terrell
A kind of odd and sweet thing happened last night:
I’d been sitting in the recliner by the fire – getting toasty and comfortable and kind of nostalgic – and I’d impulsively grabbed Dad’s old alpine hat from the mantel and put it on my head. And his hat is so full of HIM, you know? It’s like an extension of him, really – a part of him. And my thoughts were suddenly flooded with memories of Dad. It was weird – because I was feeling Dad with me, but not as an aged father – I was feeling him with me as a man in his prime – and as a dear friend and hiking partner – as my contemporary, rather than as my dad.
I sat there quietly crying to myself, remembering our hikes and climbs together – and our times of laughter. Mom was with us then, too – standing with Dad, and smiling. The tears gathered and spilled and I made no effort to stop them. but I didn’t make any sounds – I thought I was being unobtrusive – my son, Xander, was sitting near me in another chair by the fire, working away on his laptop on some project, and I didn’t want to draw attention to myself. I’d thought I’d made my own private quiet space for myself there.
But I hadn’t taken into account Sam the Wonder Dog. Suddenly Sam lifted her head from where she was curled up in another chair and brought her eyes to mine and she just stared at me – intently and unblinking – for maybe two or three minutes – it was… I’ve never seen her doing anything like that before. And then she uncurled herself from the chair and walked over to me and stared at me again – watching and alert and just BEING there, you know? I wondered if maybe the hat was confusing her, making her think Dad was in the room or something – so I reached out and petted the nobby top of her head, and her ears, and her snout and asked her if she remembered Grampa Dee – and after a bit she went back to her chair and curled up again.
Xander left the room for a while then and came back ten or 15 minutes later. And he made an observation that surprised me, but made perfect sense, too. Apparently he HAD been aware of what was going on with me. And he said, “I think Sam came up to you – not because she thought you were Grampa, but because she’d suddenly realized you were crying and she wanted to comfort you.” Sam is very sensitive to our feelings, he said.
Whoah. I looked at Sam – curled up in the chair now – and I looked at her with new eyes. I went up to her and petted the top of her head again. And thanked her.
It appears I have my own emotional support animal. -Karen Molenaar Terrell
Notes to self: This will pass. You’ve lived long enough to know that. Ride on top of the wave and let it take you to the other side.
Think of all the sunsets and sunrises and new friends you haven’t met, yet, still ahead of you.
Breathe in. Respiration. Inspiration. Breathe out.
Recognize what is truly you. And recognize what is absolutely not. Let go of the false you. You don’t have to waste time tending to it or fretting about it or trying to fix it. Just unwrap yourself from it and throw it in the dumpster. It’s not part of you and never was.
Recognize you can be happy even when you’re sad.
You’re not here for you. You’re here for something greater than you. As long as you can love you have a reason to be here.
Nothing can ever separate you from Love. Nothing can separate you from your joy.
Today is full of magic. Look for it. Find it. Be grateful for it. Amen.
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
We’re still here! We’ve lived through yesterday and made it to today and that has been no small feat.
On this Inauguration Day I celebrate you – each and every beautiful one of you! I celebrate your compassion, courage, and commitment to kindness. I celebrate your honesty, your decency, your charity. I celebrate your moral strength and integrity. I celebrate that you stand for justice; kneel for equality and fairness; and dance for the joy that no one can steal from you. You have transformed the world. You have made it a better place. You are a wonder.
A new day is dawning. Go out there and work your magic, my friends. Karen
Went on a nice long walk in Bellingham this morning – needed the fresh air and space for my thoughts.
I reached out to Dad in my thoughts (I don’t mean that I, like, “summoned” him – Dad’s not a ghost or anything – he and Mom are always with me in the same way Love, God, is always with me). And the thought that came back to me was full of joy. I know Dad’s happy. I think I was trying to talk to Dad about all the uncertainty and grief of these times – but it came to me that the things I seem to be experiencing are no part of Dad’s experience – no part of “where” he is (and I don’t mean “where” as in a location – but as a state of mind). I felt that I was being encouraged, then, to claim my own joy, too. The words from John came to me: “Your joy no man taketh from you.”
I’m not sure I’m explaining any of this at all well, but… the gist of it is that what I’ve been learning, lately, is that whenever I feel like I have a hole in my heart – it’s instantly filled with Love. Love is constantly giving me whatever it is I need. My sense of being connected to the infinite Love of the cosmos isn’t dependent upon my parents or husband or children or friends – it’s always with me. -Karen Molenaar Terrell
“Heaven is not a locality, but a divine state of Mind…” -Mary Baker Eddy