Dear ones,
I’m not sure you realize how powerful and important your kindness has been to me, and this world. Trust me. You’ve made a difference.
Karen
You’ve Made a Difference
2
Tag Archives: love
Love Without Distance
I wake early on Christmas morn
and come downstairs to plug in the lights.
I feel the loss of those who aren’t near
this year –
I feel the holes in my sphere
and I feel grief here.
And then Love is talking to me,
gently nudging my shoulder,
embracing me and letting me know
I am not alone.
I feel my dear ones gathering around me –
those who have passed on,
and those still on this plane of existence –
I feel their love without distance –
they’re with me still.
I reach out and hug them back.
There are no holes here.
My heart is filled.
-Karen Molenaar Terrell
A California Weekend
Scott and I flew to California last weekend to see our son Andrew, and daughter-in-law Christina, and our little granddaughter, and to visit other relatives who live near to them. It was a wonderful stay in every single way.
But, my friends, going into it, I had a lot of fear about it all. Would I get sick before we left and not be able to fly out? Would I get sick when I was down there and not be able to fly home? Would I lose my hearing aids? Would I lose my contact lens? Would I lose my passport? My cellphone? Would the plane lose a window mid-flight and would I get sucked through it kiester-first and get stuck in it? Would the grandbaby recognize me?
Fears like that.
Fittingly, the Christian Science Bible Lesson sermon for Sunday was “God the Preserver of Man” and was full of verses like these: “Wait on the Lord: be of good courage, and he shall strengthen thine heart: wait, I say, on the Lord.” (Psalms 27). “The Lord is good to all: and his tender mercies are over all his works…The Lord is nigh unto all them that call upon him, to all that call upon him in truth.” (Psalms 145).”The Lord shall preserve thee from all evil: he shall preserve thy soul.” (Psalms 121). “Fear thou not; for I am with thee…” (Isaiah 41).
I leaned into those passages and felt Love wrapping me up in Her arms and giving me a big hug. Love never changes, never ends, never abandons us. Love loves us even when we’re being ridiculous.
The four days of our trip flew by. Here are the highlights…
The Singing Shuttle Bus Driver
Jose, our shuttlebus driver from the parking lot to SeaTac Airport was so cool! He’s from Nicaragua and was singing a song from Ecuador. Jose said we’re all on this planet to help one another, and I said, “We’re all in this together!” He grinned and nodded his head and sang us his songs. What a great way to start the day. Here’s a youtube link to the performance he gave us that morning: https://youtu.be/ujz8FGhDqvI
The Flight Out
The flight out was a little rocky – there were a couple of big bumps that would have sent us flying out of our seats if we hadn’t been buckled in – but everyone was so matter-of-fact about it all. The man across the aisle from me was calmly eating his snacks, and watching a movie on his cellphone as our plane tossed and bucked. I thanked him for that, and he smiled back at me – completely at ease with our wild ride.
When we landed we found our rental car and let Mrs. Google direct us to Andrew and Christina’s place. I hurried ahead of Scott – eager to see our granddaughter. I peeked around the curtain and into the living room, and there she was! She looked up and saw me and her whole face lit up in a grin! She recognized me! Pretty soon she was toddle-running to the door and pretty soon I had her in my arms again. Oh joy! Oh wonder!
Grandbaby Stories –
The Pizza Story: I was reading a book to my granddaughter and there was a picture of a pizza piece in it. We’d just had pizza the night before and Grandbaby had bitten into a jalapeno – which she tried to blow out in the same way you’d blow out a candle. “Pfft pfft.” Now, as she saw the illustration of the piece of pizza, she pointed to it and pointed to her mouth and then said, “Pfft pfft.”
The Keys: As I was reading Good night, Gorilla to the grandbaby, I was describing to her what the gorilla was doing in the illustrations, “The gorilla stole the zookeeper’s keys and now he’s letting ALL the animals out of their cages, and look – they’re following the zookeeper back to his home.” Grandbaby pointed to the keys and pointed to the door and turned her little hand like she was opening the door with the keys. Christina told me that our grandbaby has been trying to open the doors with her keys, but it hasn’t worked out for her – she keeps dropping them. Later I joined Andrew for a walk with Grandbaby, and he let her carry his keys. When we got to the gate, he helped her unlock it. She was so proud and pleased with herself!
The Slide: Christina, and I took Granddaughter to the park. I helped Granddaughter climb up to the top of the slide and helped her get situated so she could slide down to her mum. When she got to the bottom she turned around with a big grin on her face, and pointed to me and then to the slide, letting me know she wanted me to go down the slide now. So I did.
A few hours later I was reading a book to her that included a picture of a slide. Grandbaby pointed to the slide and then pointed to me and then pointed back to the slide. She was reminding me that I had gone down the slide, too!
Ears: I read a story that included a bunny. I pointed to the bunny’s ears, and Marilyn pointed to her own ears, and then pointed to my ears and pointed back to the bunny’s ears again. She got up and toddled over to her mum and pointed to her mum’s ears and then to her grandpa to point to his ears. And pretty son Grandpa Scott was teaching her the “Head and shoulders, knees and toes” song.
Cool Bakeries
Andrew and Christina guided us on a walk to the Larchmont neighborhood where there were all kinds of cool shops and bakeries. We made a stop at Erin McKenna’s vegan bakery for some treats, and Danny, the cashier (and a good sport) posed for us behind her counter.
There was also a great little Mexican bakery, K Bakery, right across the street from our motel where we bought smoothies and little fruit-filled turnovers to begin our day. I loved the atmosphere in there – lively Mexican music playing in the background, and paintings by Mexican artists on the wall, and everyone friendly and helpful.
Visit with Our Niece and Her Family
Scott’s sister’s daughter, Kate, and her husband, Tan, live about half an hour from Andrew and Christina. We took advantage of this by paying them a visit on our second day in California. It was so good to see them again, and to enjoy watching our grandbaby playing with Kate and Tan’s little ones. Both Christina and Tan are of Vietnamese heritage and it seemed perfect for Tan to ordered take-out from a nearby Vietnamese restaurant. The food was great; the fellowship with family was dear; and watching the little ones playing together brought me a heart full of grins. It was a perfect visit.
A Trip to the Beach –
We spent our last night with my cousin, Laurie, and her husband, Roger, and their son, James. I hadn’t seen Laurie since my dad’s hundredth birthday six years ago and it meant so much to me to be able to connect with her again. Her daughter, Allison, came over with her young daughter and it was good to be able to be able to see them again, too, and get caught up on life.
Laurie brought out some old family photos that she inherited from her mom and some of our aunts, and we went looking through them together, talking about our family history, and sharing memories.
Our last day in California, Cousin Laurie drove Scott and I to the coast and I got to dip my finger in the Pacific.
We met these two very cool fishermen at a local marina. I asked Rafael if I could take his photo, and he had no problems with that. I asked him his name and he said Rafael, and then he asked me mine. “Karen, of course,” I said, grinning. He laughed with me about my name – successfully passing my “Karen Test.”
Philip was relaxing in his chair on the other side of the pier, classic rock playing from his e-bike. He’d overheard me introduce myself to Rafael and, smiling, told me I did that “right.” “You gotta have fun with it, right?” I said, laughing.
Philip told us that he once caught the biggest angel shark ever seen in the harbor – he said it was about five and a half feet long and four feet wide! He took a picture of it before it went back into the water. Philip also told us that we could find him on his youtube channel, “Honey Hole Trackers.” (Here’s the link to that: https://www.youtube.com/@HoneyHoleTrackers )
I asked Philip and Rafael if they were old friends, and they said they’d just met that day. I told them I had a feeling this was the beginning of a long friendship.
A Perfect Good Bye
The day before, when I’d said goodbye to my grandbaby before we headed to Laurie’s, Grandbaby had put her little arms around my neck and clung to me and sobbed, and I’d sobbed, too. I didn’t want our last goodbye before we left California to be a repeat of that. I worried about it. And I prayed.
We took a last walk around the block with Andrew and our granddaughter – posing under the golden autumn leaves of the gingko tree across the street, stopping to touch tree bark and wave to dogs going on walks with their humans. When we were done with our walk we went back inside Andrew and Christina’s home and read books. Andrew started beating on the toy tambourine that had been one of my first gifts to the baby, and then Andrew handed me the tambourine and he began to shake a rattle in time to my beats, and we sang and made a song together. Pretty soon Grandbaby started dancing to our song. Her dance was charming and filled my grandma’s heart.
When Scott started putting on his shoes, Grandbaby brought me my shoes to put on, too. Scott and I gathered our things to leave. Grandbaby reached up for a hug, and I asked her to kiss my cheek (I pointed to it), and then kiss my other cheek, too, and she smiled and put her little face next to me. We hugged Christina and Andrew goodbye, and then I transferred Granddaughter to Andrew and he turned her the other direction, and Scott and I slipped out the door. As we left, we looked up at their window, and Grandbaby was at the window with Andrew and Christina waving goodbye to us and smiling. We waved goodbye back and smiled and blew everyone a kiss. It was a sweet, joyful parting. Perfect!
The Flight Home
Our flight home was at night. Mrs. Google led us through Hollywood – we didn’t even realize we were IN Hollywood until we saw the Hollywood Museum sign. That was cool. There was heavy traffic getting to the airport, but once we got there everything went pretty quickly. There was no one in front of us at the TSA screening desk, and we got through all of that smoothly. We chatted to a delightful fellow passenger named Samantha in the waiting area – Samantha was going home to Seattle to be with her family over the holidays. We boarded our flight, buckled ourselves in, and two and half hours later we were back in the rain of Seattle.
Note: I did not lose my passport, my contact lens, or my hearing aids; I did not get sucked out of the plane; and I did not get sick. Love deposited me gently back in my home after a lovely visit with my family. And here we are.
The Christmas Dog
Christmas Eve, 1988. I was in a funk. I couldn’t see that I was making much progress in my life. My teaching career seemed to be frozen, and I was beginning to think my husband and I would never own our own home or have children. The world seemed a very bleak and unhappy place to me. No matter how many batches of fudge I whipped up or how many times I heard Bing Crosby sing “White Christmas,” I couldn’t seem to find the Christmas spirit.
I was washing the breakfast dishes, thinking my unhappy thoughts, when I heard gunshots coming from the pasture behind our house. I thought it was the neighbor boys shooting at the seagulls again and, all full of teacherly harrumph, decided to take it upon myself to go out and “have a word with them.”
But after I’d marched outside I realized that it wasn’t the neighbor boys at all. John, the dairy farmer who lived on the adjoining property, was walking away with a rifle, and an animal (a calf, I thought) was struggling to get up in the field behind our house. Every time it would push up on its legs it would immediately collapse back to the ground.
I wondered if maybe John had made a mistake and accidentally shot the animal, so I ran out to investigate and found that the animal was a dog. It had foam and blood around its muzzle. She was vulnerable and helpless – had just been shot, after all – but instead of lashing out at me or growling as I’d expect an injured animal to do, she was looking up at me with an expression of trust and seemed to be expecting me to take care of her.
“John!” I yelled, running after the farmer. He turned around, surprised to see me. “John, what happened?” I asked, pointing back towards the dog.
A look of remorse came into his eyes. “Oh, I’m sorry you saw that, Karen. The dog is a stray and it’s been chasing my cows. I had to kill it.”
“But John, it’s not dead yet.”
John looked back at the dog and grimaced. “Oh man,” he said. “I’m really sorry. I’ll go finish the job. Put it out of its misery.”
By this time another dog had joined the dog that had been shot. It was running around its friend, barking encouragement, trying to get its buddy to rise up and escape. The sight of the one dog trying to help his comrade broke my heart. I made a quick decision. “Let me and my husband take care of it.”
“Are you sure?”
I nodded and he agreed to let me do what I could for the animal.
Unbeknownst to me, as soon as I ran out of the house my husband, knowing that something was wrong, had gotten out his binoculars and was watching my progress in the field. He saw the look on my face as I ran back. By the time I reached our house he was ready to do whatever he needed to do to help me. I explained the situation to him, we put together a box full of towels, and he called the vet.
As we drove his truck around to where the dog lay in the field, I noticed that, while the dog’s canine companion had finally left the scene (never to be seen again), John had gone to the dog and was kneeling down next to her. He was petting her, using soothing words to comfort her, and the dog was looking up at John with that look of trust she’d given me. John helped my husband load her in the back of the truck and we began our drive to the vet’s.
I rode in the back of the truck with the dog as my husband drove, and sang hymns to her. As I sang words from one of my favorite hymns from the Christian Science Hymnal– “Everlasting arms of Love are beneathe, around, above” – the dog leaned against my shoulder and looked up at me with an expression of pure love in her blue eyes.
Once we reached the animal clinic, the veterinarian came out to take a look at her. After checking her over he told us that apparently a bullet had gone through her head, that he’d take care of her over the holiday weekend – keep her warm and hydrated – but that he wasn’t going to give her any medical treatment. I got the distinct impression that he didn’t think the dog was going to make it.
My husband and I went to my parents’ home for the Christmas weekend, both of us praying that the dog would still be alive when we returned. For me, praying for her really meant trying to see the dog as God sees her. I tried to realize the wholeness and completeness of her as an expression of God, an idea of God. I reasoned that all the dog could experience was the goodness of God – all she could feel is what Love feels, all she could know is what Truth knows, all she could be is the perfect reflection of God. I tried to recognize the reality of these things for me, too, and for all of God’s creation.
She made it through the weekend, but when we went to pick her up the vet told us that she wasn’t “out of the woods, yet.” He told us that if she couldn’t eat, drink, or walk on her own in the next few days, we’d need to bring her back and he’d need to put her to sleep.
We brought her home and put her in a big box in our living room, with a bowl of water and soft dog food by her side. I continued to pray. In the middle of the night I got up and went out to where she lay in her box. Impulsively, I bent down and scooped some water from the dish into her mouth. She swallowed it, and then leaned over and drank a little from the bowl. I was elated! Inspired by her reaction to the water, I bent over and grabbed a glob of dog food and threw a little onto her tongue. She smacked her mouth together, swallowed the food, and leaned over to eat a bit more. Now I was beyond elated! She’d accomplished two of the three requirements the vet had made for her!
The next day I took her out for a walk. She’d take a few steps and then lean against me. Then she’d take a few more steps and lean. But she was walking! We would not be taking her back to the veterinarian.
In the next two weeks her progress was amazing. By the end of that period she was not only walking, but running and jumping and chasing balls. Her appetite was healthy. She was having no problems drinking or eating.
But one of the most amazing parts of this whole Christmas blessing was the relationship that developed between this dog and the man who had shot her. They became good friends. The dog, in fact, became the neighborhood mascot. (And she never again chased anyone’s cows.)
What the dog brought to me, who had, if you recall, been in a deep funk when she entered our lives, was a sense of the true spirit of Christmas – the Christly spirit of forgiveness, hope, faith, love. She brought me the recognition that nothing, absolutely nothing, is impossible to God.
We named our new dog Christmas because that is what she brought us that year.
Within a few years all those things that I had wondered if I would ever have as part of my life came to me – a teaching job, children, and a home of our own. It is my belief that our Christmas Dog prepared my heart to be ready for all of those things to enter my life.
(The story of our Christmas dog was first published in the Christian Science Sentinel [“Christmas Is Alive and Well“] in December 1999, and retold in Blessings: Adventures of a Madcap Christian Scientist in 2005. It was later included in The Madcap Christian Scientist’s Christmas Book in 2014. It was also included on the Christian Science Sentinel radio program in December 2000.)
You Are Not Alone
At two in the morning on the day of the election I woke up feeling like I was riding on a collective wave of joy – like I was part of a cosmic celebration. I hadn’t had that feeling before an election since… well, I don’t think I’ve ever had that feeling before an election, so I took this feeling as a good sign – as a sign that everything was going to go as I hoped it would.
And when things didn’t go as I hoped, I found myself in a crisis, wondering if everything I believe about the power of Love and Truth is a lie. Wondering if there really is a God.
What was kind of odd, though, was that – even as I was having these dark thoughts – I could feel Love with me, loving me. But I turned away from that sense of Love-with-me and tossed and turned for a while before I finally got to sleep.
Here’s what happened today:
– The youngest son called to see how I was doing and just hearing his voice through the line – and hearing his wife’s laughter in the background – lifted me up.
– I decided to go for a hike at Lake Padden. On the way I pulled over, and put my emergency lights on, to take a picture of a reflection on Lake Samish. Before I even got out of the car, another car did a u-turn and the driver – a twenty-something with piercings on her face, and a kind smile – pulled in behind me to check on me and make sure I was alright. I was so grateful for her kindness in stopping to check on me! I felt myself lifted up a bit more.
– As I sat at a picnic table at Lake Padden, a little dog named Lock trotted over to me for a pet on his back. He sat with me for several minutes as I petted him, every now and then looking up at me with a look of pure love on his face. It was like having my own emotional support dog there, comforting me with his sweetness.
– I passed a woman named April, with her dog, Aspen. Like Lock, Aspen approached me for a scratch behind the ears. And when April and I got to talking we realized we were both processing the same election shock. Pretty soon we were joined by Judy, who also was dealing with election trauma. We gave each other a group hug, and then Judy let us know that there was a young woman sitting up at the picnic table who was struggling. So April and I (and Aspen) went to join the woman at the picnic table. She was wearing a gay pride rainbow hat, and she was soon joined by two friends who let us know they were from the LGBTQ community. The woman in the rainbow hat and her friends were all feeling scared and abandoned by their country. April and I let them know that they aren’t alone – that we’re standing together with them.
– When I got home I clicked into Facebook and found my friend, Jay Bowen, had posted a post about a vigil being held at the Burlington Lutheran Church. So I zipped my jacket back on and headed for the church.
I hadn’t really cried, yet, but as soon as I entered the church I felt tears welling up in my eyes, and by the time I’d seated myself on a pew I was quietly sobbing and shaking – I hadn’t know that was in me until then. A woman in the pew ahead of me turned around and it was Becky! – a parent of one of my former eigthh graders. Becky went up to the first pew and grabbed a box of tissues for me and then came back and gave me a hug. Not long after I saw Becky, I recognized another friend, Kaci – who was seated in the second row. I approached Kaci and touched her arm, and when she turned around and saw me, her eyes opened wide and she reached out for a hug. We cried healing tears together for a couple of minutes, before I returned to my pew.
The speakers in the Lutheran church spoke of allowing people to mourn in their own way; spoke of the courage and endurance that have overcome tribulation in the past; spoke of the importance of community and family; spoke of the importance of appreciating every breath and moment; spoke of not letting ayone take our smiles and humor; and spoke of a loving God whose intent isn’t to bring us doom, but to bring healing to us and through us.
It was comforting to be with other people today who were dealing with the same things I’m dealing with.
And now, sitting here, I realize the message the Cosmos has been sending me all day: “You are not alone. The world is full of people (and pups) who care. You are loved.” And maybe that’s all the reason I need to celebrate with the Cosmos. Maybe the wave of joy I felt early in the morning on election day had nothing to do with the election, and everything to do with divine Love. Love is not dependent on human circumstances, and we can never be separated from it.
-Karen Molenaar Terrell
Let Every Hour Be Your Finest Hour
My dear Humoristians –
Go out there and live this day like this is the last day you have to live. Show kindness with wild abandon. Look for every opportunity to express Love. Share laughter with people in desperate need of a good laugh. Lift hearts. Bring joy. Give hope. Let every hour be your finest hour. Treasure every moment you’ve been given.
Go out there and work your magic!
Karen
I Am Her Reflection
It’s dark and still when I wake
I feel wrapped in soft velvet
No hurt feelings or rejection, no pain,
discouragement, disappointment, or dismay
Before I let the news or messenger or FB
Determine my day
I let myself bask in the love of Love
For a moment – feel the peace and joy
And all-encompassing beauty,
Of the one Mind, Life, Love.
I have no opinions of my own,
No personal beliefs or feelings –
No fear, indignation, or dejection-
All I can feel is what Love feels –
I am Her reflection.
– Karen Molenaar Terrell
Little Robin in My Hands
I heard the telltale thump on the dining room window and ran around the house to see if I could help. The robin was lying on the ground, not moving, but I could see he was still breathing. I gently scooped him into my hands and began to talk to him: “God is your Life. You are the perfect, whole, complete expression of Love. You live in the realm of Good – you are never outside of God’s governance – never separated from Love.” And I softly sang one of my favorite hymns to him: “Everlasting arms of Love are beneath, around, above.”
The robin watched me and listened to me and seemed to be comfortable in my hands. He didn’t seem at all scared of me.
When I first picked him up his beak was open, and I wondered if his beak was injured in some way. I saw blood in my palm and realized he had a wound on his breast. I continued to affirm to myself and to the little robin that he was safe and whole and embraced in Love, and slowly his beak closed.
I brought him up to the deck and put him in a flower box on the railing. I kept stroking his back, and talking to him, and he stayed there, listening. Then I asked, “Are you ready to fly now?” And he lifted up his wings – just like that! – and flew over to the fencing around the blueberry patch.
I whooped to him from the deck: “Have a wonderful day, little one!”
I knew I was walking on holy ground.
Imagine a World Unboxed
And now a poem-
Imagine a world without labels
Imagine a world unboxed
Imagine a world where people
Don’t assume to know you
Before you’ve had a chance to talk
Karen Molenaar Terrell
One of the Best Days Ever
When Xander was in kindergarten I went to teaching half-time for the last part of the school year so that I could be off on the days Xander was off from kindergarten. One of the best days I’ve ever had was the day when Xander and I went to Washington Park on one of our days off and hiked down to Green Point together. We stayed there for a while, just relaxing, and then he turned to me and asked, “Isn’t this nice, Mommy?” I asked him what was nice, and he said, “Just sitting here in the sunshine with you.” And that. Right there. That sweet memory has stayed with me for twenty-five years.
I went back to Washington Park today and walked down to Green Point again. I ran into a little family – father, mother, baby, grandma – and enjoyed watching them spend time together, enjoying each other, and thought of the day I spent there in the sunshine with Xander.
I had the opportunity to talk to the family for a bit. I learned that the little one, Fiona, was just a few months younger than my granddaughter. She was sitting on her daddy’s shoulders – flapping her arms up and down like my granddaughter does when she’s on my shoulders or Scott’s. Then Fiona turned and pointed to me – just as my granddaughter does – and I pointed back. Fiona started grinning, enjoying our game.
I learned this was the first time Fiona’s grandmother had been able to see her and spend time with her, and she was leaving to go back to her home in Pakistan on Wednesday. My grandma’s heart went out to her. I know this feeling.
I thought at first that there were colorful shreds from popped party balloons strewn on the grass at Green Point. Then I realized the colorful shreds were actually rose petals. Rose petals seemed fitting for the day.
Adventures of the Madcap Christian Scientist 