Holy War

"Ramona told me about all this Witch shit you're doing. Your Mom had better pull through.

By this point, I have several positions composed showing how I questioned Christianity early and hard. But you may wonder about what caused me to fall back into faith. After all, I was questioning my instructors, parish, and listening to that devilish rock and roll. I was sixteen years old for the time of the following events. I had called it at the time a "Holy War" against me, and through fear and hope for self-preservation, I chased after Christ.

It began when I was roughly sixteen years old. I spent most of my free time with my two best friends Richard and Anthony. We often stayed at Richard's house. Richard was a Roman Catholic, as was his mother Ramona. We often Skateboarded, listened to and played music, and gamed on Play Station 2. We also did the typical teenager stuff like smoking, drinking, and dating.

I also need to disclose that Richard's mom was Richard's only living parent. Thus she was overprotective of Richard. She was also a former Sister of Divine Providence, commonly known as a Nun. Ramona would be the cause of many problems for me in my late teenage years.

Ramona would eavesdrop onto phone conversations (these were physical phones attached through wires) by picking up another pone in the house while pressing MUTE. She became privy to many things; our drug use (marijuana), our 'foul mouths', and how I was a Witch. She appealed to me about Christ. I was a Gardenarian Witch at that point, and had a binder I kept with me at all times as my 'book of shadows.' It had spells, correspondences, alphabets, and my #basicwitchshit. I am pretty sure she knew what was in it, so I never let her near it. I didn't need her doctrine, I liked the amount of influence over my world I believed Witchcraft offered.

I'd stay at Richard's often, and part of that price included going to Church with them on Sundays. I didn't mind, because I got to be with my best friend. At this point Catholic Mass had been part of my life 5 years. I enjoyed the Liturgy, seeing it as a philisophical lesson from men I thought trustworthy. It wasn't the end of the world, and I didn't protest about it. I simply opted out of prayer.

She'd ask us our thoughts about the Mass after it ended on the car ride home. I offered anything I found interesting, or something that could be used to make her state her position on certain aspects of the faith. It continued in such fashion for about a year. She'd attempt to discuss religion, and I wouldn't budge.

The issue I had with Ramona is that she had a pretty good suspicion that I wasn't christian, something I had been carefully keeping from my parents. There was a phrase "Stuck in the Broom Closet" for those of us who hadn't disclosed our position to our families yet. I always worried she would say something.

I worried about that most because my strict, Bill Gothard influenced Father, would completely lose his proverbial shit. Let nothing be unclear, physical discipline occurred in my house almost daily. Questioning faith was 'not our place'. So, apostasy to Witchcraft is adjacent to Satanism as far as he was concerned. Recall, the 90's were recent, the Satanic Panic was alive and well.

Everything fell apart between November 21 2001 - January 21 2002. Y2K was but one year prior. The Twin Towers had just fallen. People were afraid. And for me, it was the beginning of the Holy War that I lost.

A core belief of Witchcraft is that what you do unto others is returned to you three times as strong. This is called the Rule of Three amongst the Craft of the Wise. I was a Witch who believed in Baneful Magic, but it wasn't something I was doing every single day, in fact it hardly ever occurred. Generally I did beneficial spells, and blessings. I'd help friends who complained of Ghosts. But I should state that I did curse a person or two during this time, this becomes important.

On November 21st 2001 my maternal aunt died.

On December 21st 2001 my 2nd maternal aunt died.

On January 21st 2002 my mother was admitted to the hospital for seizures.

On January 21st 2002 my father looked at me in the hospital, as my mom was connected to machines. She was unconscious or resting, I cannot remmeber which - it was the start of many things I couldn't remember. But I entered the room where they were, and he looked up at me, and he said "Ramona told me about the witch shit you've been doing. Your mom had better pull through."

My head swam, the moment I worried about most was right in front of me. I felt immense dread, and hated Ramona for sharing this information. The choice to share my belief should have been mine to disclose. His meaning was very clear. Immediately, I thought of the Rule of 3. A death on the same day a month apart, and my father for sure thought that my mom was going to die on January 21st 2002.

She did not die. But for a long time, a part of me did.

The whole world seemed to be falling apart all around me. I was a sixteen year old kid, who had just lost two substantial figures in my life, and the thought that I had put my mother into the hospital, or worse - was responsible for ALL THREE OF THEIR OUTCOMES - fucked me up. Add in worrying about my Mom's well being? I entered a very dark place.

Mom had lived, so there was much to praise Jesus for. Had Mom died it would have been part of "God's Plan." I am terrified of the thought of had she not pulled through. But Church was increased, reading the Bible was increased, and I fell under extreme scrutiny. I was living in a home where I was scared to breathe because I was effectively blamed for the situation.

My friend Richard had tried being supportive. He seemed very keen to win me to Christianity again after the events. I considered everything I was living with, and how much easier it would be if I became the sheep among 99 who found his way home. Did I believe I was to blame for their deaths? Yeah, more than a little. I became afraid to practice my beliefs.

So together, Richard & I burned my Book of Shadows late one night. We gathered along the old gravel road outside his house, grabbed a metal wastebin, and set it ablaze with lighter fluid. All the while I recited the Lord's Prayer, knowing from Mass that sometimes Priests gave Penance in the form of mutliple Our Fathers & Hail Mary's. Ramona was on Cloud Nine. She took us to a Billy Graham event happening nearby to really help drive in the message of god's love.

My mom continued to have seizures for many years. And whenever one happened, I remembered what my dad had said to me in the hospital. I don't know if he remembers saying it, but it is something I will never forget.

I did not leave Christianity again until 2020. I obtained an Associate's Degree in Christian Studies. My first tattoos were of Christian Iconography, the pain of my sternum tattoo was nothing to the pain of Jesus' crucifixion I remember thinking to myself as I got it done. I chased after Christ & his kingdom hard, certain that if I simply believed hard enough, understood his will with discernment, I would be a better Christian than I ever was a Witch.

The bible tells its fanclub: "If you have faith the size of a mustard seed, you will say to this mountain move, and it shall move. - Matthew 17:20." I knew I had that faith, and when my devout prayers went unanswered I simply understood it to be not part of "the plan." I came to believe I was inherently broken, as I'd been taught my entire life. I didn't deserve to have that prayer answered. I deserved nothing, but through Christ's redemption I could be saved.

And so I believed, until March 2020. For it was then that an irreparable hole in the armor of god began to show, and grow.