Healer, Heal Thyself

People ask me why I am now a practicing witch after over thirty years as an evangelical Christian. This screenshot says it all.

It’s not about superstitious beliefs or relying on a self-appointed prophet. It’s not about listening to sermons or en masse “worship” to emotionally configured music and light shows. It’s not about trying to appease God and groveling in my hateful sin. It’s about taking responsibility for my problems, and using my own gifts, abilities and commonsense to work through them. It’s about realizing I have everything within me to facilitate my own healing and being spiritually self-directed. It’s about realizing the magnificence of Gods creation and being part of it, instead of existing just to evacuate to some ephemeral paradise when I die. It’s about being present. It’s about being my own leader, my own healer, and my own spiritual mentor, knowing the spirit that makes the universe move and live also moves and lives in me. It’s about respecting others religious practices and beliefs and realizing there is no “other” – we are all connected and equal. I feel nothing but relief I am no longer burdened by the pressing responsibility to convert others to my spiritual walk.

I remember when I had cancer, and was in an acute care ward with other dying people, and feeling like I was out there on a special mission from God to get the other people in my room saved before they died, and feeling like a failure because I knew I couldn’t do it. It would have been highly inappropriate, and just plain wrong to talk church jesus speak to those vulnerable people who were very busy being deathly ill. But I thought that was why I had cancer in the first place. I’d been trained to think everything that happened to me was an avenue to “bring Christ”. I remember when the man in the bed opposite me called the doctors to tell them he was finished with medical treatment. I nearly went out of my mind with guilt and shame, feeling he might go to hell because I couldn’t crawl across the floor between chemotherapy to “witness” to him. I went and hid in the shower and silently cried for an hour. The funny thing is he showed Christ to me in ways he will never know. He did not fear death. He welcomed it as part of his life. And this is what it means to “conquer death”, not to fight and avoid it, not to clamor for physical supremacy as a sign OUR GOD REIGNS. I learned from that man how to surrender to my present moment, how to accept death as a real possibility, and how to reconcile with that graciously, which is more than evangelical Christianity was able to give me in all those decades I spent in church.

Standing outside my old spiritual self I feel nothing but compassion for the miserable, desperate person I was, believing I needed something more than everything I already am to be content, joyful and free. The only thing that angers me is watching the blind willfully blinding others, and I will not be silent about the abuse, manipulation and oppression endemic in these corporations claiming to be churches, and perpetrators who name themselves pastors and teachers.I would rather be a Jezebel in their eyes than sit silently while Christ’s people are preyed upon like Sunday dinner, rather than shepherded like the precious ones they are.