My winter longings have given way to springtime joy. My recent raise at work and progress made in counseling are just small examples of how Divine Mother has blessed me abundantly. My feelings of loneliness have subsided as I’ve grown closer to Monica and found oppurtunities to meet new friends. Goddess may also be extending Her kindness to all other GLBT families in Georgia; the proposed legislative barbarity, the Religious Freedom Restoration Act, stalled in the Georiga House before the end of the 2015 session.
My day-work with microbial DNA analysis and evening pursuits dedicated to restoring worship of the Goddess both bring me a great sense of fulfillment. Jogging the streets around the house where I live with Monica brings new natural beauty to my eyes. The greatest blessing occurred this past Sunday, April 26, at Pilgrimage United Church of Christ, where Monica and I are members. At the end of service, our pastor made an invitation for couples to come forward for blessing. Monica stood up first and I immediately followed. In front of the congregation, Pastor Kim dabbed oil to her fingers from a vial and tapped a cross on Monica’s forehead, blessing her in the name of Christ. I became frightened and whispered to Pastor Kim, “no cross”. She paused and I elaborated, whispering, “Only a dot, please”. Kim then proceeded with blessing me “in the name of the Goddess.” Never before have I experienced such support and understanding from any Christian minister. In her affirmation of my variant, non-patriarchal faith, Pastor Kim serves as an exemplar of pastoral care. I’ve been filled with irrepressible joy since Sunday; I’m not lost in spiritual homelessness I have feared.
From springtime rain-veiled mountain heights
Divine Beloved lends sun-gilt green,
Her white-and-rose beflowered trees
clothe storm-swept woods and riversides.
As winds bend leaves, Her voice assures:
“Don’t fear ill-boding hail-cloud hordes!
My lioness-drawn-chariot rides true
to shield you from Hate’s tromping force.”
She then recounts when Rome, once young
and weak, sat fearing Hannibal.
Great Mother vanquished this barbarian,
the general’s mind’s pride, his fall.
I hope to find ways of sharing my revived joy with others. I shy away from talking about my spirituality with others. In a world sharply divided between traditionalist Christians and liberal Secularists, my experiences would appear to border on mental illness. I feel driven towards the wordless language of music with flute, drums, and eventually, a stringed instrument.