Women’s Peace Fellowship and Potluck

A remarkable group of women came together last night and laughed and sang, shared inspiration and “broke bread” together. There were poems and one-liners, songs of hope, and a feast for the stomach and soul.

Ann shared a poem by James Crews called “Tenderness”:
You know how a half-buried stone
in the yard will clear all the snow
from around itself, little by little,
leaving only a hollow of warmth
and a cushion of moss you want
to rest on, until winter finally ends?
That’s how tenderness works in us,
some heat rising up from beneath,
then spreading outward to touch
the lives of anyone who comes near –
slowly, softly, making a safe place
for them to stand in, melting away
the coldness that gathers around us.

Carmen shared the prayer of Saint Francis of Assissi: “O divine Master, grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled as to console, to be understood as to understand, to be loved as to love.”

Rebecca shared a poem by Clarissa Pinkola Estes called “How to Silence a Woman.” Here’s an excerpt:
When someone says, “Your ideas are dangerous.”
Say, “Yes, my ideas are dangerous, and why are you
so afraid hombre o mjure?”

When it is said, “It’s just not done.”
Say, “It will be done.”

When it is said, “It is immature.”
Say, “All life begins small and
must be allowed to grow.”

When it is said, “It’s not thought out.”
Say, “It is well thought out.”

When they say, “You’re over-reacting.”
Say, “You’re under-reacting, vato.”

Rosemary and Deidre shared the beauty and opportunities of the transitions they find themselves in, and all they’re learning from these transitions. Claudia was asked about her work on “The Kindness Project,” creating the label of “The Kindness Town” for her town of Edison. Peggy passed out the inspirational hand-woven “HOPE” tapestries that she creates on her loom. Bev shared the poem by Max Ehrmann, “Desiderata”: “…Beyond a wholesome discipline, be gentle with yourself. You are a child of the universe no less than the trees and the stars; you have a right to be here.

“And whether or not it is clear to you, no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should. Therefore be at peace with God, whatever you conceive Him to be. And whatever your labors and aspirations, in the noisy confusion of life, keep peace in your soul. With all its sham, drudgery and broken dreams, it is still a beautiful world. Be cheerful. Strive to be happy.”

And the amazing Tracy Spring moved us to tears with the beauty of her songs: “Little Rock in the River,” “Love Doesn’t Care Who You Love,” “Walls Come Tumblin’ Down, ” and TR Ritchie’s song, “Somewhere to Begin.”


It was a wonderful evening with talented and inspiring women. I really needed this.

Here’s the poem I shared:

I wake and feel Life quivering
around me and through me.
The presence of Love is here
and I am within the presence,
connected to the Cosmic Body.
Not a “Borg” body –
not a matter-body of
computer chips and nanoprobes –
but the Body of Spirit,
the Body of Love.

Faces pass in front of my vision –
loved ones who’ve died and loved
ones who are with me, here.
And I’m connected to all of them still
– not separated by time or space or place
in this Body of Love,

I feel Earth breathing through my window
smell her sweet breath of dew and life
and know she is embodied in God’s body, too,
and we are connected – all of God’s creatures and I.

We are nothing less than the perfection of Love.
-Karen Molenaar Terrell

A Holy and Beautiful Thing

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

(Pictured below: Mom and Einstein.)

Moz and Einstein.

Better Than Okay

better than okay
pain-free and at peace; resting
in Love. All is well
-Karen Molenaar Terrell

“Become conscious for a single moment that Life and intelligence are purely spiritual, – neither in nor of matter, – and the body will then utter no complaints.”
-Mary Baker Eddy (Science and Health, p. 14)

All Kinds of Magic!

January 13, 2023

There’s all kinds of magic happening today! I drove up the North Cascades Highway to Concrete to run an errand (and give myself an adventure). As I was pulling into Concrete who should I see but John “Wizard” Bromet the Peace Man! Whoah!! I pulled over and grabbed my “PEACE JUSTICE KINDNESS “ sign out of the back of my car and joined him at the bus stop. We laughed and talked and sang together for a few minutes and then took a quick selfie. It was totally magic to run into John up there!
-Karen Molenaar Terrell

(Here’s a video of John and I singing together a few years ago.)

Christmas Has Landed in My heart!

It’s 3:00 in the morning when I awake
to find it arrived while I slept!
Christmas has landed in my heart!
I slip out of the bedroom
and go downstairs and the cats
greet me in the hall.
I think they feel it, too.
I plug in the Christmas lights
above the mantel and settle
into my chair near the woodstove.
Black cat rubs his head against my hand.
Calico cat jumps up in the chair
next to mine and tucks her paws
underneath her and closes her eyes –
we are enjoying each other’s company.
The Christmas lights sparkle off
the smooth surfaces around me.
I sing “Silent Night” to the cats
and they turn to me and listen.
Magic is here! Incredible good beyond
imagining is here and more on its way!
Peace! Joy! Love! Hope!
It’s here! It’s here! It’s here!

-Karen Molenaar Terrell

Christmas Lights

Singing in the Car with Alison Krauss

I just had a wonderful drive with Alison Krauss. Well, okay, Alison Krauss wasn’t actually in the car with me. But her voice was. And it was lovely.

I was driving home, after a visit with my parents, and just as I got to Seattle big, fluffy snowflakes started floating down around me. It was like being inside one of those glass bubbles that has “snow” trapped inside it.  It was dark, and the snow made it even more difficult to see, but I was suddenly filled with such a sense of peace and joy, that driving felt more like a celebration than a hazard. I’d put an Alison Krauss CD in my car’s CD-player, and, as the snow started falling, her delightful riff leading into the Beatles I Will filled my car with a playfulness and a joy that was almost tangible. I realized that the cars around me were moving in complete harmony with me and with the song – it was like we were all doing a happy dance together – perfectly-timed and choreographed.

“Who knows how long I’ve loved you? You know I love you still…”  I’d always thought those words and that song were romantic – it was a song I’d sung at least once at a wedding. But now I found those words and that song taking on a different meaning for me. My mom’s sweet, smiling face came into focus in my thoughts and I held her there for a moment – just completely filled with the joy of the love we share for each other. Then my dad came through my thoughts, and I mentally hugged him; then my husband, my sons, my co-workers, my bosses, my neighbors, my friends – even those with whom I’d had conflict – one-by-one passed through my thoughts.  And as each new face appeared I mentally wrapped love and joy around my thoughts of that person.  The playful, irrepressible joy of that song, and Krauss’s performance of it, simply could not be overthrown or trampled down. Anger and frustration had no choice but to melt away before the happy onslaught of banjos and love.

It was a transforming experience for me, and when the snow finally stopped falling and the song had ended, I felt like I’d just been privileged to be a part of something magical and wondrous. The feeling of joy still lingers.

Later I thought some more about the song and its words:

“Who knows how long I’ve loved you
You know I love you still
Will I wait a lonely lifetime?
If you want me to, I will.
I love you forever and forever
Love you with all my heart
Love you whenever we’re together
Love you when we’re apart.
And when at last I find you
Your song will fill the air
Sing it loud so I can hear you
Make it easy to be near you
For the things you do, endear you to me
Oh, you know I will, I will”

And it occurred to me that God, Love itself, could sing those words to you and me. How long has God loved us? Forever and ever and for always. She loves us when we’re near Her in our thoughts, and She loves us when we’re not. She loves us when we know Her, and She loves us when we don’t. And we are dear and precious to Her. “I will, I will,” are our Father-Mother God’s words and promise to us. Unconditional, unfailing love is ours to give, and ours to receive.

(Originally posted February, 2012 and now a part of *The Madcap Christian Scientist’s Middle Book*.)

Morning Companion at the Lake

in the quiet stillness of the morning
a lone duck grooms himself on a rock
near the shore of a lake as smooth
as obsidian
gold reflections of the forest swirl
around him as he plucks his feathers
and then leans over to drink
from the lake
and then throws his whole duck body
into the cool water for a morning bath
it is just him and me – me and the duck –
in companionable quiet, enjoying
the peace of the morning together
-Karen Molenaar Terrell


Below: Lone duck at Lake Padden, Bellingham, Washington. Photos by Karen Molenaar Terrell.

Lake Padden Peace

I sit in the shade of alder trees
A soft breeze off the lake
fans my face and arms
Sky blue dragonflies wing
in a dance among the tall
grasses beside the water
Peace

-Karen Molenaar Terrell

Dragonfly at Lake Padden, Bellingham, WA.

Rembrandt, I Ain’t

This is what happens when you give a little kid (me) a virtual pack of crayons. Rembrandt, I ain’t. But I needed something cheery on my wall, and I ain’t apologizing.

The promise will be fulfilled –
joy, peace, love, hope – all of
creation living in rainbow light.
-Karen Molenaar Terrell

Finding Peace

the instinct is to fold in on myself
hide away in a dark corner somewhere
away from the cacophony and the bells
and whistles – in a quiet padded lair
away from worry, stress, and care
just close the door to my closet
and pray a silent prayer
hoping to feel hope again
hoping to find stillness in the din
to find a place where we can all win
and find peace
-Karen Molenaar Terrell