The Resurrection of a Witch

Q: How can God be the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit all at the same time if there is only one God? 

A: We don’t know, we will never know, we don’t ask questions. He simply is. 

That is the dialogue that broke my Catholic faith; 

from there I began a journey into the Wiccan faith and way of life. 

I am now and forever will be a sutured of the Earth, a Mother, and a wife. Oh yeah, and a witch. Recently though, it hasn’t all been smooth sailing.

When I began my path I was only a child (16), and children really do have a hard time understanding Wicca, if an exceedingly easy time feeling it. Oh good God did I feel it! 

 The trees and grass and flowers spoke. Rituals were simple and impromptu. I hid in the shadows and felt the Gods and Goddesses of night wrap their protective arms around me. I devoured anything about Wicca that I could get my hands on. Every couple of weeks there was something new to add to my altar. It was fabulous. A few years later, though, as the honeymoon waned, I began to wonder, wasn’t there more? I got the correspondences, I experimented with lucid dreaming, meditation, magick, I followed the Sabbaths perfectly, adapted ritual and spells for my own purposes, but really it just wasn’t enough. I still felt like a hopeless novice 10 years later. My acknowledgment of the holy days started to slip and I no longer called myself Wiccan, only pagan or “spiritual” (I actually hate that term now). In came my best friend, we’ll call her Chocolate. We spoke heavily and heavenly of our beliefs, how we came to Wicca. This lasted for a year before we ran out of topics. We will never run out of love for each other. We are sisters.

I met my husband in college. We had our son before we were married and I set to work raising him in the Wiccan faith. Chocolate, and soon several other woman, began holding circles. It was always a big deal for me and my furor for the circle expanded like a wild fire. But like any out of control fire it soon began to burn and smolder into ash. Specifically it burnt my husband and he began to rebel, making each event an ordeal to live through. This shattered me. He was my husband, he was supposed to support me, protect me, not make things more difficult.

My spirit went into hiding. Ran into a little ball and hid. But I cannot ignore who I am. What I discovered since my childhood is that Wicca is not just the Sabbath, the moon and the correspondences. It is the garden that I plant, the soap that I make, the bread that I bake, the presents under the tree, it is the love to teach, the sunrise, the sunset, and my son’s face. It is me. This blog is what I have to offer. I have recently stretched myself too thin. This year I resurrect myself. This is my spell and yours if you desire it. I’ll see you on the other side of the rainbow. Let the journey begin again. 

Blessed be.