It hit me today as I was hanging another ornament on the tree – a gift from east coast family – that no matter how many ornaments I hang I’m never going to have my whole family together again in the person, on this planet. Parents have passed now; Loved ones scattered. And somehow facing this reality and accepting it – helped give me perspective on what matters. I’d been raising the bar too high for Christmas – making my joy dependent on what can’t be – instead of being grateful for all the good that IS – for all the good that’s mine here and now. There’s still so much to celebrate – and nothing can separate me from the love of Love Itself. -Karen Molenaar Terrell
In my newest book,Looking Forward: More Adventures of the Madcap Christian Scientist, I talk more about my experience with loss in the chapter titled “And Loss Is Gain.” I think that chapter dovetails really well with the short in the Journal. There are details you’ll find in the Journal article that you won’t find in my book, and there are details in my chapter you won’t find in the Journal article.
Here’s the chapter from my book:
“And Loss Is Gain”
“O make me glad for every scalding tear, For hope deferred, ingratitude, disdain! Wait, and love more for every hate, and fear No ill, — since God is good, and loss is gain.” – Mary Baker Eddy, “Mother’s Evening Prayer”
When I learned Andrew and Christina might be moving to, literally, the other side of the world, I went through a period of deep mourning. It felt like someone I loved had died – like another huge loss in a long series of huge losses.
And then I started pulling together all the tools I had been collecting over the years – the insights and healings and epiphanies – and I constructed a bridge for myself over the deep mourning.
I remembered the dream I’d had when the sons had first started moving out of the house and creating their own lives: In the dream I was in some building that just went on forever. I was walking in a leisurely pace from room to room, and periodically this voice would ask, “Karen, do you want to turn around or not?” I’d grin like it was a joke, and just keep moving forward. I didn’t want to turn around. I didn’t want to go back. I didn’t want to be like Lot’s wife in the Bible, who turned around and became a pillar of salt – fixed in time. I didn’t want to yearn for what WAS, but I wanted to look forward to what was to come.
And then I remembered the time when my youngest son showed me yet another tattoo he’d had etched on himself, and I’d felt so grieved that he was covering his beautiful skin with these permanent etchings that I’d reached my thoughts out to God for help. The voice of Love had immediately answered my prayers with these words, “Xander doesn’t belong to you. He belongs to himself and he belongs to Me. What he does with his body and his life is NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS. Xander is fine, and will always be fine. And so are you.” I’d immediately felt the fears and grief lift from me. And when, the next day, Xander showed me the new tattoos on his knuckles, I found myself saying to him, “Oh! Those are cool! What do they mean?” He’d looked a little surprised by my reaction, and then he’d gone through and told me what each tattoo meant – the pine tree represented the Pacific Northwest; the top hat and smiley face represented humor; the mountain range represented our family heritage; the feather represented freedom; and the crown represented purpose. Isn’t that beautiful?
Another tool I pulled out was the memory of a time when my family was scattered out across the United States – I was in Chicago for my Christian Science Association, Andrew was living in Los Angeles, Xander and Scott were in Washington State – and I had a sort of revelation. Did our physical separation in any way weaken my love for my family? Did the fact that we weren’t in close physical proximity in any way make me love my sons and husband less? The answer, of course, was no. And then I thought about the loved ones who have died through the years and realized that death hasn’t stopped me from loving them, either. It became clear to me that NOTHING can separate us from the love we have for each other.
One morning, a couple of weeks after I’d learned of Andrew and Christina’s possible move, I woke up feeling full of joy. I walked out and stood on our back deck in the sunshine, breathed in the morning air, and listened to the birdsong. The thought came to me that something amazing is coming. I realized that not only does God have wonderful plans for Andrew and Christina, and Xander and Kyla, but She has wonderful plans for me, too.
I want to hibernate – just go to sleep until we’re all together again – only be awake for those moments when you’re all near. Maybe I can function while I sleep – look like I’m awake and appear to do all the things that society requires of me – until your return.
Or…
Alternatively, I could fill those waiting moments with love and joy – I might as well, right? And then when we all meet again one day around the family table I’ll have something valuable to share – I’ll be ready and able.
Storing away memories like a squirrel stores nuts before the winter cuts in They’re leaving soon so I’m storing fast gathering memories before they pass Walks around the block as we laugh and talk steaming tea in our favorite mugs curry soup and extra long hugs I tuck these memories into the safe places in my heart – stockpiling the memories for when we’re apart
-Karen Molenaar Terrell
“We think of an absent friend as easily as we do of one present.” -Mary Baker Eddy
For I am persuaded that neither times of the month nor times of the year; neither astrological signs, nor doubts, nor fear; neither what’s far away, nor what lies near; neither what’s in the past, nor what’s now and here; neither war nor pandemic, nor loss nor tears can separate us from Love and all that’s dear.
Shh. Be still and listen. Do you hear the voice of Love singing – assuring you Good is Endless Everything? Do you feel Love’s song around you, surrounding you – good and whole and true?
The song of the Cosmos fills all space in the eternal Now – embracing all of Creation – the manifestation of Love everywhere and always.
There is no separation in Love’s creation. We dwell in Love’s song, live within endless life – never divided by death or strife or separated by time or space; or shattered or fractured or decaying or doomed. We can’t feel hatred, confusion, fear, or pain, hopeless, unwanted, unloved or shamed. All we can feel is what Love feels. We can’t be dishonest, greedy, or disorderly – all we can be is what perfect Life made us to be. We can’t be misled or misguided by Truth’s foes – all we can know is what Truth knows.
All that Love creates is perfect, complete, whole – maintained and sustained by omnipotent Good. And all the good that could, would, or should already is and always has been. Forever and ever and ever. Amen.
Shh. Be still and listen. Do you hear Love singing? We belong to Love. -Karen Molenaar Terrell
An alpine butterfly flits among the flowers on Table Mountain. Photo by Karen Molenaar Terrell.
not what’s now, nor what’s ahead – not what’s past, nor what I may dread – not what I’ve gained or what I’ve shed; nor what’s living or what’s dead; neither the foot, nor the head; neither what follows, nor what led; neither what’s read, or said – alpha or zed – separates me from the All that is Good and mine to claim -Karen Molenaar Terrell
(This is a piece of another poem that I re-worked to turn into something new.)
What is this choice I’m making? Why this stubborn resistance when I know I can reach out to Love and find her right now, right here? What keeps me from doing that? What keeps me from drawing near to my Mother-Father – to what’s dear to me?
Nothing.
Nothing can separate me from Love – not stubborn resistance or mortal mind’s push and shove or incessant insistence of its own power and ego.
Love is here, I know – tenderly enfolding me in Her arms even as I type and no foe – neither a mortal life, nor death; nor what’s now, nor what’s ahead – not what’s past, nor what I dread – nor what’s high or in the deepest bed; neither the foot, nor the head; nor feeling a lack of food, or overfed; neither what follows, nor what led; neither what’s read, or said – alpha or zed – separates me from the All that is Good and mine to claim right now. -Karen Molenaar Terrell
For I am persuaded, that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor things to come, Nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature, shall be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord. -Romans 8:38-39
For a few days in the last week my family was spread out across 2,000 miles – Los Angeles, Seattle, Chicago. And as I thought about this, I had a sort of revelation: Did the physical separation in any way weaken my love for my family? Did the fact that we weren’t in close physical proximity in any way make me love my family members any less? And the answer was, of course, nope. No way. Absolutely not. And then I thought about the loved ones who have died through the years and realized that death hasn’t stopped me from loving them, either. In fact, even though they’ve moved on, the relationship we created together has continued to grow and blossom and been a positive influence in my life.
As the character Jack Lemmon plays in Tuesdays with Morrie says: “Death ends a life, not a relationship.” (Mitch Albom)
photo by Karen Molenaar Terrell
For I am persuaded, that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor things to come,Nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature, shall be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord. – Romans 8
Adventures of the Madcap Christian Scientist 