Sunday, April 28, 1996


Last night in my prayers to Jehovah I felt that I needed to tack on a part about asking Him to help me love Him. I was very fervent and emphatic about this request. I don't know what emotion moved me to ask for this. Was it an irrational love asking for help finding a rational love - a love that comes from experiences and knowing? Or was it rather just a yearning for this loving Being? And what is this feeling in my heart? How did it get there? How did it start, and how is it nourished?

When I pray I have been asking to get to know the new God and learn about Him. I ask Him to tell me what He wants me to do so I can do it if I can. I get no response to this. In response to getting to know and learn of Him, the only thoughts I get are to do what I am doing - read. Read the Catholic book, read the Bible - just read. The ball is still in my court. God's Holy Spirit may be moving in my life, but I have to actively chase Him.

I'm not at all sure the light at the end of the tunnel isn't an oncoming train.

At the Pagan Interest Group at church {the Unitarian Universalist church} I have to "hide" who I am becoming. These people cannot support me in this search. There is no one I physically talk to on a regular basis who is there for me. Physically, I am alone in this, as in everything.

Thursday, April 25, 1996

The Dream

Last night I couldn't sleep. I took a shower around midnight figuring it has to be done and I wasn't getting to sleep anytime soon so I should take advantage of the time. Around 2:15 I was still wide awake. I used a visualization of me in the Goddess' arms and this calmed me down. I woke up at 3 a.m. sharp, from a nightmare. Usually a nightmare will just blend away into the rest of the night and I sleep fitfully. But this time was different. I slowly came "up" from sleep to a waking state, and I remembered every detail of the dream. I lay there a minute, deciding if I should write it down. I finally did.

In the dream I was walking to school, and it was night (I always walk from school at night, so this is already strange). The next things I know there is a van, and the Satanist guy from my class is driving it. Then, in the way dreams just "move," I was in the van, in the passenger seat. No invitation, no acceptance on my part, just there.

I ask him to let me out at the next block, but he doesn't. So I try to talk him into letting me out, as I don't want to talk to him. I crawl behind the front seats, but I soon realize this won't do any good, so I crawl back up front. I can't avoid him merely by going to a different part of the van. I'm trying to stay away from religious conversation with this person.

The next thing I know we're away from the school. I ask him where we're going and he says for a bite to eat. Now somewhere in here I remember thinking that we should have arrived at the place, and I try to switch the scene to a restaurant, but it's never clear to me whether or not we were even out of the van (I must have been semi-awake at this point, as I've never had a lucid dream before). Sometime along the trip I tell him that I am a "white-light, fluffybunny" type. This seems to turn him off.

Now for the interpretation. Jim is convinced that this is just my subconscious playing out my fears. I think so, too. For instance, (and I forgot to tell this part), when I asked him what he wanted, he said to get to know me better. This comes from the fact that I stare at him in class, and he has caught me staring a few times. It is just my own fears of what he wants.

There is, however, heavy symbolism that does have meaning.

1. I am walking in the dark.

2. I am walking to school. This could be interpreted as walking to a place of learning, possibly learning about God.

3. He takes me away from the place of learning. This is one of my fears.

4. I am afraid that he wants to get to know me, that evil and/or Satan wants me.

5. I realize in the dream that I can't avoid the issue.

6. I find myself in the van without my consent. This is another fear.

So there it is. The stress is finally taking a high enough toll that it's encroaching on my dreams. I wasn't able to get back to sleep until about 4 this morning, after writing everything down. I slept the next 5 hours very soundly and peacefully. That was a relief.

poem: Resurrection

Purifying sun,
Burning through,
Impurities consumed,
Strength returning.
Burning bright, blinding light.
Clearing day, warming ray.
Increasing thirst, fireburst.
Falling long, hearing song.
Pleading plight, praying at night.
Needing love from up above.
Cinging sun, it is done!

Wednesday, April 24, 1996


Prayed to Jehovah again tonight, asking Him to show me the way, walk with me down it, tell me what to do to serve Him, and tell me how to get to know Him. Like last night, most of the prayer was done with my head unbowed, and arms slightly raised, hands slightly in front of me, palms upturned. A great deal like an invoking posture actually, except I was sitting, knees bent under me. Some cultural conditioning does kick in, though. Kneeling next to my bed seems the "right" thing and feels okay, rather than kneeling in front of my altar as I do for the Goddess.

As like last night, my upturned palms tingled when I prayed. Why, I don't know. Am I sending out energy in my great need? (Very likely.) Feeling God around me? (Less likely.) Receiving energy? (Downright unlikely.) The tingling palms added a magickal dimension to these two prayers that wouldn't have been there otherwise.

Like yesterday's prayer, I felt Him listening.

Carlos gave me Thursday work detail, but didn't tell me what job. It won't be my usual beverages, as Dan does beverages every day but Wednesday when I do them. I hope he doesn't put me on salad bar. (God forbid!) Line serving I might be able to deal with. So now I will be working two days a week.

The name Paul seems to be cropping up in my life lately. The guy who took me to the concert that started this whole thing is Paul. Charles' Sikh friend's name is Paul, his self-proclaimed heathen friend's name is (I think) Paul, and the guy at church some weeks ago who seemed sympathetic to me is named Paul. While we're at it, the name of our school library in something like the J. Paul Leonard Library. It does not escape me that Paul is one of the major figures of early Christianity, and is known to have written several New Testament books, even though some of the book attributed to him were written by others who put his name on it. Still, he was a major mover and shaker of the early Church. Is it not strange that Paul is now cropping up? Hmmm. Makes one wonder...

There are times - quiet moments of aloneness, or the experience of friendship via e-mail - where the fear I feel toward Jehovah is almost non-existent, or ignorable. In these moments of the dissipation or ignoral of fear, a space for love to develop is created. It is nurtured by Him I have no doubt; He is moving in my life. He is pushing me toward love. In the ignoral of the fear, and yet the lack of love, the dominant emotion that comes into play is then awe. Awe of God's love, awe of His power, awe of Him. These are almost the closest to love I come. Almost.

The closest would seem to be in prayer when I call out in my need and know I am heard. He may not answer, but that is a matter for later. In the prayer itself it is enough to be heard. The Spirit of God listening is the answer. It is in the experience, the sense, of talking directly with God that I am closest to love because I am in communion with this Being who loves me and is taking the time to listen. It is almost hard not to love then, but only almost. I still barely trust this Being, but I think the trust is growing. It will take me a long time to really get to know Him, if indeed I ever do.

Tuesday, April 23, 1996


After reading Charles' mail this morning, I realize the next move with God is mine, and that move has to be prayer. I haven't done any normal prayer in a while.

This whole three weeks or so that this has been going on I have been responding to a heart level call. God has reached out to me; now I need to reach out in return. Ball's in my court. He can do nothing more until I do something. How can a momentary realization at a concert become this? Is it one of God's Mysteries: taking something small and normal, like a grain of sand, and using it as an irritation and foundation for something beautiful and precious, like a pearl. It is only through the foundation of the sand and the irritation it engenders that growth is possible. No grain, no growth.

Coincidences remain. Tonight on Xena (TV) was a discussion of the One True God and a (major) reworking of the story of the sacrifice of Isaac. Is He still calling me? Does He want me? Xena usually deals with the Greek (or is it Roman) gods, when it deals with gods at all. That's what made today's show so strange.

I'm not at all sure what to do now. I prayed to God tonight to show Himself to me, to teach me about Him, to tell me what He wanted me to do, etc., but received no impressions as to what to do.

Sunday, April 21, 1996

More on searching for God

Friday I climbed to the top of the student center at the very top of the concrete stairs. It was windy and threatening to rain (again). I yelled at God for a while and I know He was listening, but the only response I got was that it started to rain and the wind kept howling.

Last night I called Charles and we talked for about two hours. In the incident with the Satanist guy he saw the same symbology as me - evil moving toward me.

There were a lot of little coincidences last week. Coming home from work on the bus Friday night a Mormon guy was sitting next to me. He didn't bother me, though. I had my eyes closed and was working on the Jesus/Goddess/me/door visualization. I had briefly tried to earlier in the day and I seemed to be able to take the hand {that Jesus} offered, so I decided to further explore it on the way home. I could take the hand, but I had a hard time visualizing walking through the door. I finally did, but I don't think I'm ready to do that in real life yet. I have taken the hand, though.

Charles has been talking on e-mail about being honest with God and telling Him how I feel toward Him. I did that a little on Friday. Last night I went out on the back porch and talked with Him a few minutes, but I realized later I had been entirely too civil. The anger was still very much inside of me. So I sat in the dark and berated Him for a while for all the upheaval and such He's causing in my life. I felt a little better for finally telling God my feelings, although of course He already knows.

So even though last week was a rest compared to the two weeks before, little things happened all week, and I kept thinking about God and such. So I suppose I'm back to looking again.

Charles said that since I've been searching for God, I'm being rewarded by experiencing Him, such as at the concert. Some reward! He turns my life upside down and scares me by asking me to follow Him into the unknown.

I also told God last night that although I wasn't willing to trust or follow Him, I was willing to become willing to trust and follow Him at least a little way. I think I may be willing to trust Him a little. I have to start somewhere. I don't really trust Him right now. I don't love Him. I'm not sure if I like Him. But He loves me. This may be enough to start with. If it isn't, then at least the yearning He's put in my heart should be. I can't run; I can't close the door. There will always be a voice in my head, and the door will always be cracked.

poem: Trust

What can come of Sunday morning
When you want to stay in bed?
And what can come of all week morning
When all you feel is dead?
And how does one comprehend
Something never said?
How does one get up and walk,
One more street to tread?

How am I to look you
Straight in Mystery's eye?
How am I to know that
What you say won't be a lie?
How am I to comprehend
His death for me to die?
And how am I to say hello
When I was only taught good-bye?

Friday, April 19, 1996


I thought I had put all this yearning for God stuff behind me, but I keep bringing it up to Charles in e-mail (I really do need to talk about it still), and little things keep happening. The Mormons passing out Books of Mormon, the Satanist guy showing back up in class this week. Is He still calling me? (shakes head) Impossible.

Today the Satanist guy was not only in class, but instead of sitting at his usual spot in the back row, he sat in the row right behind me, in a place where I could see him out of the corner of my eye the whole time! Ick! The coincidences seem to be piling up. Maybe they'll step, or maybe I'm just imagining them.

Tuesday, April 16, 1996

Getting to Know You

So the door lies open. Do I take the hand being offered, and let it lead me into the unknown darkness, or do I turn my back on it? The greater the darkness, the greater the chance for light. I know this. What will I do?

I keep trying to visualize a door with myself on one side and Jesus on the other. He has his hand outstretched toward me. I know I should take his hand, but no matter how hard I try I just can't. Maybe I'm just not quite ready.

I felt a bit of a "recommitting" when talking to J. this morning. I keep vacillating between seriously wanting to study Christianity and not. I know I must study, and today (unlike yesterday) I do feel more like doing it.

He {J.} compared my situation with hanging onto a branch hanging over a pit. There's no technique he can teach me for letting go; it just has to be done. I have to trust God.

That's where getting to know God comes in. He said I couldn't get to know God until I committed. We can't get to know God and build a relationship until we commit ourselves. I said something about knowing or trusting the Goddess or some such before I committed to Her - until I remembered my initiation, and come to think of it now, my dedication a year earlier. I pledged to love, honor, and by extension, serve these Beings who I really didn't know that well. He said I needed to do the same with Jehovah.

Sunday, April 14, 1996

Further Communion Thoughts

When I went to make coffee this morning, I found my mail, with two good arrivals - Hole in the Stone magazine, and a letter from Sc. (of Sc. and Su.). I opened the magazine straight away and looked for my article. It was there ! Then I remembered my letter to the editor. I looked, and it was there, too! Cut a bit, but it had all the important stuff.

I also called Charles Scott about last night. He said to only call in emergency, and this was not exactly, but I did need to talk to someone. We talking for about 1 1/2 hours I think. (I get special rates on weekends.) He gave me his idea of communion, and I told him why I wanted to take it.

The upshot of the call, the magazine arriving (with my Coming Home to Wicca article in it), and having a night to sleep on it, is that taking communion last night would have been wrong. I am not Christian; I am Wiccan, and Wiccan I shall remain. With the magazine arriving today my resolve was strengthened. This doesn't mean I'm setting aside Christianity, though. The search must go on. I think I just got caught up in the moment, and my tiredness didn't help.

I feel bad for making a fool out of myself in front of Paul, and for getting caught up in the moment. I will try to avoid future repeats. I will try to be more of who I am - a Wiccan.

If God wants me, He'll have to try harder. I will study the Bible still, but I am tired of actively looking so hard. Maybe I'll stop praying to Jehovah, or only pray for Christian friends. No more events - the energies always suck me in. I've got "cakes and wine." This should be good enough for me. This is my communion.

He's calling me away from someone who I love with all my heart - the Goddess. And I feel like I've lost touch with Her. This may be why I'm being drawn to Jehovah - it's another living presence to draw from. I must find a way to reconnect with Her, and make the need for Him no longer necessary.

Saturday, April 13, 1996

Catholic Young Adult Conference

Went to the Catholic Young Adult Conference today. It was weird because I was so acutely aware of my outsider status. I tried to believe that the invisible wall wasn't there, tried to fit in, tried. But then came Mass at the end of the conference, and the Eucharist - communion.

Now I know that non-Catholics can't take communion, but it had been a good day around liberal people, right? So I asked Paul (my ride) if I had to be Catholic. He said yes, but that I could get a blessing (which I did).

With his yes you must be Catholic answer, the invisible wall I had been trying to ignore all day came into a focused, tangible reality. And it hit me like a ton of bricks.

I got my blessing and sat back down. What I should have done is head outside. No one would have noticed my departure, and I hardly would have been missed. Instead, I sat with my head in my arms so no one would see the tears forming in my eyes. It was as if someone had slammed a door in my face. I had just been told it was us vs. them, me being the "them." I was inextricably, hands-down, on the outside. And it bit. To go to the conference all day and then have this happen was more than I could bear. I never would have been denied communion in a Protestant church.

It hurt because to deny me communion is to relegate me to outsider status, out of the community. It really made me notice how different I was. And it hurt - bad.

Mass ended a few minutes later, during which I tried to compose myself, and Paul motioned to me. My frustration was near the surface, and I let just a little off. But I said much less than I would say to some, because I don't know Paul, and can't open up to him. I stood out in the night with him, little talk on either side. Not only had I been dissed, but now I was embarrassed, too.

Friday, April 12, 1996

Went to do a journal entry last night and found my journal missing! A frantic search turned up nothing. I thought back on my day and figured I must have left it in either the Old Administration building computer lab (probably), or on the bus (less likely). It was too late to call the lab, so I had to wait 'til morning.

I prayed about it (to Jehovah) (gasp!). It made me feel a bit better. To show I still had faith (even with these weird things happening) I pulled out my Bible and started where I left off in Acts. I got so absorbed in Paul's travails that pretty soon I'd finished the book! I am now ready to start in on Romans.

I called the computer lab this morning. They said they had my notebook, so I came down straight away to pick it up. (My Humanism and Mysticism class was not held today. The teacher told us Wednesday that there'd be no class today, so I wasn't planning on showing up until late [I have to work later].)

Wednesday, April 10, 1996

poem: The Search

The Search
Oh, brave new world.
Blinking in the sunshine of
Yesterday's afterglow
Does not brighten the nights
Of tomorrow,
Or ease today's burdens.
I pray only for release from the blinding
Light of Your shadow,
That I may rest in
Blissful darkness.

Monday, April 08, 1996

poem: Footfalls of God

Footfalls of God
Like a dream stealing into consciousness,
He came.
Like a drop that makes the cup overflow,
He came.
Like the unknown challenging the known,
He came.

Like a phone ringing,
He spoke.
Like a door opening,
He spoke.
Wrestling with Him,
He spoke.

With the sound of the candle's flame,
He claimed.
In the pain of the ecstasy,
He claimed.
Putting His heart on mine,
He claimed.

Like a stranger at the door,
He came.
Knocking at my heart,
He spoke.
Opening my heart,
He claimed.

Sunday, April 07, 1996



The pull is back a little today between the Forum (X-tianity covered among other things) and reconsidering last night's beautiful service. The pageantry of everything last night had a distinctly Pagan flavor to it, and in many ways made me feel at home, especially in retrospect.

After church today there is a communion service in the chapel. I feel a strong need to check it out, though not necessarily participate. And yet, here I am trying very hard not to talk to Jehovah, and I find myself seriously thinking about taking communion. What is happening?

I still hate the Christian God - I think - yet there is a softening taking place within the hate. And what's this? My typo above - I began to write, "I still have the Christian God" instead of "I still hate the Christian God," even though I was thinking "hate."

This struggling with God, this hand-to-hand combat, do I really think I can win?

Later...I took communion. They left all reference to Jesus out of it, but I thought of it a little as I dunked the bread in the wine and ate it. I felt compelled to take communion. I don't remember the last time I took communion, but it has been several years.

What is happening to me I don't know, but I do not think my rebellion this past week can stand up to communion. I only took it because it was Easter. If it wasn't, I could have walked away. But I cannot stand up to the biggest Christian holy day of the year without investigating further. And so I struggled with God and my own curiosity, and lost, and took communion.

I crossed a line today, and there is no going back from here. God opened the door and pushed me toward it - that door of letting go of a Wiccan-only based idea about the world, and investigating where Christianity fits - and I in my fear dug my heels in. But God didn't give up, or maybe my own curiosity kept bugging me, or maybe both, but the softening of my heart even as I tried to hate Him, occurred anyway. I had a choice, yes - we always have a choice - but it was a clear choice.

So I've picked up the phone to stop the incessant ringing (it was really bugging me). Now what? What to where I was a week ago? Yes, but with a new focus and purpose. Everything's changed, and nothing. Anyway, this is not a commitment to Christianity; this is a commitment to seek the truth in Christianity. What happens from here, happens.

Okay, Lord, you've got my ear. I'm willing to listen. You better make this good.

I'm afraid, so very afraid of what what I will find and what might happen. But I have to try. It would do no good to ignore it anyway. Haven't I been studying some of the issues already, in my studies of Christianity and reading the New Testament? Buying a concordance; hanging out on soc.religion.christian?

I have to trust that God knows what He's doing in my life, that there a purpose and reason. I have to trust that God will do the best thing for me and lead me where I should go.

Later...I could have sworn when I prayed tonight that I could feel the presence of God in the room, ever so slight, but ever so there. I was heard tonight.

Saturday, April 06, 1996

Easter vigil and thoughts

Woke up this morning and the pull wasn't bugging me. I think I can relax a bit in this vein.

On T.V. on Bonanza (?) one of the major groups on this show was some Quaker (?) or some God-fearing group. Another call? But it isn't bothering me much. Maybe Jehovah will go away, or maybe He's just busy because it's Easter weekend. Yeah, right. He's God. He can do me and Easter weekend at the same time.

From a song on the radio this evening: "I loved you, You didn't feel the same. Though we're apart, You're in my heart. Give me one more chance to make it real." This was on the way to St. Mary's for Easter services for my class.

When to St. Mary's Cathedral for Easter Vigil services tonight. Lasted about 2 1/2 hours. There were a couple of magick moments, but only a couple. One was when the organ wads playing, a bell was ringing, and I looked up at the thing above the altar that looks like silver rain that some guy had told my symbolized the Holy Spirit's descent. I could almost imagine the Spirit descending. The other time was communion. I can't give the specific portion, but it was before people lined up to take it.

The guy sitting next to me said that even though I couldn't take communion (because I'm not Catholic) I could cross my arms over my breast and receive a blessing. I do so and the priest touched my head with his right hand.

My back hurt a lot during the service, decreasing it's magic.

I felt a little tug during the service, but it's nothing I can't ignore. From Monday on through Friday night it was a terrible pull. This morning it was gone. It came ever so little during the service, but is almost nothing now.

I wonder. Is God changing His tactic? Is He going to wait for me to come to Him, knowing I'll have to at some point? He has more patience than me. I have no doubt He can wait me out.

But the hate that I've been cultivating has made me stronger. As long as I hate God, I cannot love Him.

I woke up late this morning again - third day in a row. I think my body is just getting onto a vacation schedule.

So, is God going to chase after me, or wait me out? Will I come back?

It's about midnight as I write, but we go on daylight saving tonight and lost an hour of sleep, so I have to be up in 5 hours. And I do have to be up. I told Cynthia I'd help with breakfast, and I need to be at church at 8 to do that. But I am not tired. Don't know why. Maybe something to do with church tonight. Maybe to do with daylight saving. It's harder to sleep when you know you have to.

Friday, April 05, 1996

Good Friday thoughts

Good Friday

Got home from Full Moon and H.& R.'s about 12:45 a.m. Then I overslept this morning again, by about an hour, waking up around 10.

So why am I trying to push Jehovah away? Am I trying to prove something? Am I truing to be better than God? Am I trying to punish God for leading/pulling me in the direction of Christianity, a leading/pulling that I have no control over? Perhaps. At least when I have my heels dug in I am taking control. Perhaps I am testing God, too, taunting Him, taking advantage of His love. My rebelliousness does have a certain allure - rebelling against God Himself. So far I'm holding my own, but the feeling of the need to search had not gone away.

So far the "coincidences" that are "supposed to get me on track" have been small. Today I saw a commercial for the Book of Mormon on T.V. A song, a commercial on the radio - these are small things. He better hit me with a metaphorical 2x4, or I won't come.

I hate Him, and I hate how He calls me. My rebelliousness feels good, and gives me a sense of power, even though I know it's wrong. If I can keep my anger against Him up for long enough, and continually remind myself of His vindictiveness. He might eventually stop bugging me. Right now He seems to be softening my heart toward Him, and I can't let that happen. If I can get myself to stop thinking about it so much, I will win. To that end, I am skipping Good Friday services at church this evening.

But then last Saturday comes to mind, and I find it hard to be angry at such a loving presence as I felt that night. My resolve wavers, and I find myself wavering between hate and love. Caught in the middle, I want to cry. Cry in the wrongness of my hate and sin, cry in the love He has for me - the very love I am abusing right now, cry to release the tension that is always around me.

But I hate Him, or am trying to. I am trying to hate this incredibly loving Being. It's hard. All I want is to pick up my Bible and start reading and thinking and studying. I find it difficult not to do so.

I guess I want to see if I can "force God's hand," make God do something He wouldn't normally do. I want to make Him come to get me; by running away I hope to make Him do that. He may not do anything precisely because He knows I'm trying to force Him to. It is not wise to try to force God to do something.

There is now more at stake than just me changing. There is now my pride at stake as well, and to see how long I can stay away. And a test of my strength vs. God's.

And yet there is this intense feeling that the answer has already been decided. Like no matter what I do, I will have to go to Jehovah.

Channel surfing tonight I happened upon a Jesus program, but it was on the Spanish channel so I couldn't understand it. Of course, it could be coincidence. It is Easter weekend.

Thursday, April 04, 1996


Yesterday on the bus I was listening to the radio on my Walkman when I heard the song, "Right Here Waiting." The chorus goes, "Wherever you go, whatever you do, I will be right here waiting for you. Whatever it takes, or how my heart breaks, I will be right here waiting for you." This in the continuing saga of my pull away from X-tianity. I was wondering whether this song would come on. It only took one day after making my decision.

I turned on the radio on my way to the bus this afternoon and it was part of a commercial that greeted my ears - "Are you listening? Do you hear it?" I think this is what it said. Another in the saga, and I am listening if only because I have to. How do you not listen to God? But that doesn't mean that I have to head. I can feel myself turning into a Christo-Pagan, or a Christian, or something. And I don't like it because I don't like Jehovah. So when that God starts poking into my life now, I will just say, "No!"

I guess what worries me is I am one step away from being a Christo-Pagan. I have to make my stand somewhere. Yet, like I thought, it hasn't made the pull do away. Maybe God doesn't have to do anything. Maybe He knows that if He just waits me out, I'll come. Which is why it's all the more important for me to stay right where I am. I hate this powerless feeling of being called and no matter if I put the receiver down or don't answer, the phone just keep ringing.

No! The Christian God is too mean, too vindictive, too horrible. I have to make my stand. Right here. Right now. He is undeserving of my love.

And then I think that there is only one God, so He must be part of the One, and if I love the One, how can I not love Him? Well, the answer is that I can't love any portion of any God that is as mean as Jehovah is throughout the Bible. OT especially, but NT, too.

So right here, right now. He's pulling me; I'm digging my heels in. He's calling me; I'm letting the phone ring. I hate Jehovah. How can He love me?