“Where Was God?”

A dear friend asks me “Why?
Where was God?”
And I struggle to find an answer.
I try to go metaphysical –
“Darkness doesn’t have a source,”
I say. “It’s just the absence of light.”
I say, “Blaming God, Love, for this
is like blaming the light
for the darkness –
blaming Love for hate,
blaming Truth for lies.”
And I believe what I’m saying, but…

I don’t have the magic words
that are going to ease the pain,
mend broken hearts, bring clarity
to what’s unfathomable.

Here’s what I have: I can love.
I can love like there’s no tomorrow.
And that’s what I offer.
Love is here.

– Karen Molenaar Terrell

“And, behold, the Lord passed by, and a great and strong wind rent the mountains, and brake in pieces the rocks before the Lord; but the Lord was not in the wind: and after the wind an earthquake; but the Lord was not in the earthquake:And after the earthquake a fire; but the Lord was not in the fire: and after the fire a still small voice.”
– I Kings

Before the Day Begins

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.”

– Karen Molenaar Terrell

SAMSUNG CAMERA PICTURES

Peace. Be Still.

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.

-Karen Molenaar Terrell

Photo by Karen Molenaar Terrell.

A Letter to Dad, Dee Molenaar, on His 107th Birthday

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.)

A Collective Awakening

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.

– Karen Molenaar Terrell

Moon Over Mount Baker

I Felt Myself Slipping Into the Abyss and Went in Search of Magic

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!

I Told Him He Wasn’t Alone

(Originally posted June 15, 2016.)

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.

Thoughts on This Memorial Day

Thoughts on this Memorial Day:

In 1961 – when I was just four – our country went through the tensions of the “Bay of Pigs.” I don’t remember anybody explaining to me what was going on, but I remember my mom and dad exchanging secret looks. I remember knowing the grown-ups were afraid.

Two and a half years later, our president was assassinated. I was in second grade. An announcement came over the school’s loud speakers that all students should return to their rooms. I was alone, walking in the hall – I think I’d just delivered a message to the office or something. I could feel the urgency in the voice over the intercom. We all were sent home from school. The next week was Thanksgiving, and I remember my dad and my Uncle Emery (retired Army officer) weeping. I didn’t often see my dad or my Uncle Emery weeping. It was a dark time.

Five years later, Civil Rights leader, Rev. Martin Luther King, Jr., was assassinated and, a few months after that, JFK’s younger brother was assassinated. By that time, my dad had climbed Mount Kennedy with Bobby Kennedy and considered him a friend. The assassinations of MLK and Bobby Kennedy brought more darkness to our country.

In 1969, our country began drafting young men – most of them still teenagers – to fight in a war on the other side of the world. The draft ended in June 1973 – a year before I graduated from high school. I wonder how many of the young men I passed in the halls of my high school were ordered to Vietnam?

Conflict and war didn’t end with the Vietnam War. I don’t need to go through the list – you all know.

But when I was asking myself this morning to try to identify that time in my life that might be called “the good old days” – I realized that I’ve always lived in a world with tension and conflict, hate and killing. I was blessed to have a happy childhood with loving parents, inspiring teachers, and healthy adventures in the outdoors – but beyond my own personal circle, there was darkness.

My teaching major was history. As I studied world history, I remember having an epiphany that all the wars fought in the world have been connected – that we’re really still fighting the First Peloponnesian War. Greed for land, greed for spices, greed for oil, greed for money and power – all the wars are related – leaders sending young people off to kill and be killed so their leaders can get more of whatever it is they want.

The world has always had its heroes, too – the humble unknown people who go about quietly doing the right thing, sharing the good they have, creating beauty, treating others with kindness and compassion. I meet these people every day on my walks and trips to the store – heroic people who don’t even know they’re heroic – people who do the right thing because they can’t NOT do the right thing.

And I see the progress towards liberty and love that humanity continues to make. Nothing can stop the progress. Once we’ve moved forward, it’s impossible to go back.

We live in challenging times – some might say “unprecedented” – but that in itself gives me hope. The more blatant and brazen evil becomes – the more it exposes itself for what it is – the easier it will be to see it and overcome it. With love. With the courage of progress. With the quiet heroism of kindness. Nothing can stop progress. Nothing can stop the power of Love.

A Happy Ending for a Neurotic Karen

I’m one of those people who lies awake at night worrying about stuff I said the day before. I worry about hurting people’s feelings unintentionally; I worry about people thinking I was serious when i was just having fun; I worry about accidentally offending people.

Last night I worried about something I’d said in fun to a bank teller earlier in the day. I’d been standing in line for ten or 15 minutes while the tellers worked with two other individuals ahead of me who had complicated transactions. I was the only one in line for most of that time. Then a woman with a crutch came in and stood behind me and let me know that she was there because it appeared someone had gained access to her account. This was serious. So when a teller opened up another line – one with a chair for someone to sit down on – I told the woman behind me to go ahead – her business was more serious than mine. She thanked me and took the seat in front of the teller.

I waited. I waited some more. A couple more people came in behind me. And now both the other tellers finished their business with the previous customers. I was excited. I was almost there!

Then one of the tellers grabbed her purse and left (I didn’t blame her – she probably was finally going to get lunch). So now I waited for the other teller to signal me. And I waited. And finally I said, laughing, “Is it just me? That other teller took one look at me and said, ‘I’m out of here!'” The teller smiled and said she was just clearing a space for me and I could come up now.

She was very gracious. I learned that the man ahead of me had brought in 7,000 pennies to be turned into $70 cash and that it had taken some time to sort all that out. I was impressed by the teller’s patience and composure. My transaction went quickly and I left.

But as I was driving home I started worrying. Had the teller realized I’d just been having fun when I asked, “Is it just me?” Had I come across as – oh, the horror! – a “Karen”?

I worried. I worried some more. I worried much longer than I’d waited in that line at the bank.

I had a break from my worrying when Clara Kitty nestled in beside me for some cuddles. I realized that if I was spending time worrying I wouldn’t be focused on the love I could give right then to Clara. So I scratched her behind the ears and she licked my hand and for a little while I just stayed in the moment.

But when I went to bed I started worrying again.

This morning I decided to bring a home-made card to the teller, telling her how much I appreciated her kindness and patience yesterday. I wasn’t sure how this was going to work, exactly. I wasn’t sure if she’d even be at the bank, and, if she was at the bank, I wasn’t sure how I was going to manage to get to her counter. But I trusted that Love would sort all that out for me.

When I got to the bank I saw she was there! And the woman ahead of me in line appeared to be waiting for the OTHER teller because she stepped aside and waved me forward when the teller I wanted to see became available. How cool was that?!

I asked the teller her name – she said “Natasha” – and I told her I’d been impressed by how patient she was yesterday and how gracious, and I wanted to give her this card to thank her. I told her I hoped she knew I was having fun yesterday – I was worried that she’d thought I was serious. She started laughing and said she totally knew I was joking and she’d been grateful that I’d had a sense of humor about it all and wasn’t cranky like another customer might have been.

I felt a huge weight of worry lift from me! She had a sense of humor!!

I left the bank feeling like I was floating on Love. Empowered by Love. Powered by Love. I felt fearless and safe and impervious to bad stuff. I felt Love with me.

Journey Through Clinical Depression

My contribution to Mental Health Awareness Month:

In 2007 I began my journey through a massive clinical depression. At the time I was going through the depression I didn’t see an end to it – I was afraid I was going to spend the rest of my life in the darkness. I felt hopeless, helpless, and full of guilt and fear. I contemplated ending my life, lost my appetite, and felt like I’d lost myself, too. In desperation, I turned to God, to the power of Love, to guide me through the darkness.

I learned a lot during this time. I learned not to battle the waves, but to surf on top of them. I learned that if I could love I had a reason to live. I learned I could be happy even when I was sad. I learned to focus on now and move from moment-to-moment, step-by-step. At some point I recognized that the mortal mind posing as me wasn’t really any part of me – my real Mind was God, Love. Being able to separate the counterfeit mind from my real Mind was hugely helpful to me. How could I lose my mind when my Mind was God?

And when, in a year, I came out the other side into the light, I recognized my own strength, and the tender love God has for me, and for all Her creation. I came out of the depression with a fearlessness that I hadn’t had going into it. I felt reborn.

I think I needed that experience in my life – it helped prepare me for the challenges my world is facing right now. At the time it seemed like the worst thing I’d ever experienced. Now, looking back, I realize what a wonderful blessing it was to me.

I’m so glad I didn’t end my life all those years ago. Look at all the things I would have missed! – all the sunrises and sunsets and new friends and adventures and daughters-in-law and a grandbaby!

If you’re going through what I went through 17 years ago, please know there IS a way through. The light DOES come again. Please know that you matter. You are important to this world. We need all the love you have to give. We need your kindness. Know you can be happy even when you’re sad. Know you are loved.