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.)
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!
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*.)
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.
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
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
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
“O death, where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory?” – I Corinthians 15
There was some police action on the beach the day we arrived. We walked by the crime tape, the team of investigators, the canopy over the scene. I stopped to ask another woman walking on the beach if she knew what was going on. Valerie said she’d seen a couple in the parking lot earlier who’d looked shaken and she wondered if they’d found something. She was pretty sure there was a body under the canopy. She noted that the crime tape had already been up a few hours so it had to be something pretty serious. The winds had been high the night before and she wondered if maybe a body had come in on the surf. A man named Billy stopped to chat with Valerie and my husband and me. He wondered what was going on, too.
My husband and I continued on our walk, looking for agates, watching the antics of the seagulls as they chased each other around for food, enjoying the sunshine and the salty air. Every now and then, though, I’d look back at the crime canopy and wonder.
Billy rejoined me a while later to tell me that a friend had confirmed a body had been found in the sand. Billy said that the night before he’d passed a man on the beach who looked distressed and lost – the man seemed a little “off” to him – but he’d shrugged it off and continued on his walk. He wondered now if this body belonged to the man he’d seen the night before, and if it had been a suicide. For a moment neither of us spoke, each thinking our own thoughts. Then we wished each other well – told each other to stay safe – and parted ways.
Later the local news confirmed that the body of a man in his thirties had been found partially buried in the sand. I went into my mother-of-sons place then. I grieved for the man and his family. I prayed and tried to reach my thoughts out to the man – letting him know he was loved, whoever he was – that he wasn’t alone. I wished him peace. And, eventually, with the help of the ocean and the seagulls and the kites and the ever-tumbling waves, I found my own peace.
A few days later, as we got ready to leave, a rainbow arched across the sky. There’d been a rainbow after my mom’s passing, and a rainbow after my dad’s passing, too. I idly wondered who might be manifesting THIS rainbow. And then I thought of the man whose body had been found the day we arrived. And I knew he was alright.
Life is so much bigger than these forms we see – so much bigger than body-hieroglyphs of “you” and “me.” Death has no power to end our Life – Life fills all space – exists beyond form and time and place. I feel my loved ones ever-near – both those who have “passed” and those who are still “here.” Death can’t destroy the love we feel, and nothing can stop the healing of what needs to be healed. -Karen Molenaar Terrell
My mother-heart breaks today. Stop! Stop sending our world’s children into wars they don’t want. Their lives are worth more than that. -Karen Molenaar Terrell
“Fear not: for I am with thee: I will bring thy seed from the east, and gather thee from the west; I will say to the north, Give up; and to the south, Keep not back: bring my sons from far, and my daughters from the ends of the earth… the work of righteousness shall be peace; and the effect of righteousness quietness and assurance for ever. And my people shall dwell in a peaceable habitation, and in sure dwellings, and in quiet resting places…” -Isaiah 43
“The cement of a higher humanity will unite all interests in the one divinity.” -Mary Baker Eddy
“Universal Love is the divine way in Christian Science.” -Mary Baker Eddy
I felt a spark of hope inside me – a moment when I remembered what it was like before the invasion before the insurrection before the division in our nation and our world – a distant memory of good will and peace.
And remembering, I believe again. -Karen Molenaar Terrell
Adventures of the Madcap Christian Scientist 