Blessed Imbolc to all who celebrate it.

 To all who celebrate Imbolc, I wish you a warm and happy day. May Bridget bless you and your home with prosperity and joy. May she bring you inspiration and stoke the fires of creativity for you to express what is in your heart more fully. <3

Bees in bonnets.

 So, that little book that I worked on revising and updating the Filianic scriptures pissed off a bunch of people. Now, a video that I've made has pissed off a bunch more. And the video was my discussing my experience and what's going on with me. Like cowards, people are going "a certain someone" is saying bad things about us and proceeding to the no true Scotsman argument about the grief that I've been getting about that book.

I have decided I'm not going to read the comments on my videos anymore. I am probably not going to read the comments on my blogs anymore. And I'm just going to focus on my writing and stop giving a shit about my audience. Because, apparently, there's a pack of cowards out there deciding that it's better to get their asses up in the air and be snide rather than face a problem that I pointed out in their ranks.

I have a problem with people who can't be reasonable when giving criticism. I have a problem with people who decide that passive-aggressive crap is the way to solve a problem. And I have a real big problem with people who are going around rumor mongering. I just don't get why this high school level crap is happening. The only logical answer I can think of is I have pointed out that they are not nice people and they're offended by that. This is what I get for telling the truth, people being snippy and telling me that I am wrong because they're not experiencing what I am.

I fucking hate gaslighting. I fucking hate the no true Scotsman argument. I'm so tempted to say to them, "Well, Cinderella, if the shoe fits, wear it." But, I'm not going to. And I highly doubt that any of them are going to find this particular blog because they're more interested in my more public ones. All seven of you who follow this and read it, thank you for your readership. And if one of the randos who reads this post happens to be Cinderella, wear the damn shoe with pride. Because, if you think I was calling you out then you need to examine your position on a number of things. /rant

Bees in bonnets, royalty checks, and paper packages tied up with string ...

 So, after a few weeks of contemplating and mulling over what response should be given to the attempted shredding of that religious text I spearheaded work on and carefully edited, I typed something up yesterday and posted it on my other blog. People are coming out of the woodwork on Twitter to voice their objections, which really is only proving my point. I'm not planning on responding to comments on the post or the Twitter link to the post. I did my best not to let on that I was offended by the implication that I was a simpleton who couldn't understand English. I did my best to make clear that the changes were to move the text so that it was easier to read and open it up to a larger audience. And I did my best to explain that the changes were made because I wanted it to be more accessible. 

I also explained that the gap between the Independent Filianic community and the Orthodox Filianic community is wide enough that there are things happening in each community that the other isn't aware of, and it's on them to go figure out what's happening in the Independent Filianic community because I'm not their spokesperson, leader, or figurehead. I also made clear that I took on the role of publishing and copywriting the text to preserve the anonymity of the others who were instrumental in this new version of the holy texts because I knew that it was going to piss off the whole Orthodox community. I explained that I was putting my proverbial shield between the people who helped create this new version and the haters because I had seen how ugly the internet could get. Unlike some of these gentle souls, I give zero fucks about what the Orthodox community thinks of me.

At first, I was upset. I confess, at first I did give a fuck about that. The person who tried to completely shred the work that took about half a year to clean up and fix (and implied that I didn't understand English) was someone I had some respect for and a semi-cordial working relationship with. I now realize that they were treating me with 'company manners' instead of being genuine. That kind of duplicity is shit I don't have time for. I'm not going to bother to respond to the comments. If they go so far as to directly contacting me, I may respond. Otherwise, I don't have time to deal with every person who is going to nitpick each word choice and such.

If they hate it so much, call it fanfiction and move on. I explained the role of copyright (which is a thing that people got highly offended by) and said if they didn't like what I and the team had done with the text, maybe they should have copywritten their work. They're pissed off because they don't have free immediate access to it via .pdf or something similar. And I don't care. If you want access, buy a copy. Then the book is yours to burn as you see fit. I've had work stolen and republished by book piracy sites via .pdf on self-publishing sites. I'm leery about slapping up a .pdf to go around the world. 

I've made good on my oath to take all proceeds from the work and put it towards charity. I'm not profiting at all off of this book. I'm taking the amount that I have raised with it out of the royalty check that came in the mail and using it to buy yarn for the preemie hats I've started making again. My goal is to make 100 preemie hats this year. The year before Covid-19 arrived on the scene, I had made 50. I didn't make any during 2020 because I was so busy with so much other stuff. So, to make up for the fact that I didn't make any last year, I set the goal of 100 hats. I have 3 done so far. I picked up the yarn last week.

I have decided that the Orthodox community being pissy is free advertising. I think it is part of the reason why all of my other books are selling. (Which is where the majority of the royalty check lies.) Maybe some of them will come around to see that what I've overseen is a good thing. Maybe they won't and they'll go back to lurking in their dark corners of the internet as the Independent community grows and gets more active. I was careful in my research to back up what others were presenting in sources tied to the Orthodox community. It's been entertaining to find links back to documents that would have supported things that we said leading to 404 errors. I suspect intellectual dishonesty and cowardice out of the parties responsible for removing those documents. I'm going to let all of this be judged by our actions.

For my part, I've presented two reasoned arguments for changes and refrained from name calling. I did put forth some questions like "If the Orthodox community is going to enforce an orthodox perspective, who determines what that perspective is? What about the plurality of perspectives within your own community? Who has the authority to dictate what is correct and where does that authority derive from?" I advised they should form their own version of the Council of Nicaea and hash it out before they start declaring us Independents to be mangling the holy texts and heretical.

I still feel the pull to be involved here. I still know that the goddess I oathed my service to decades ago is this goddess. I am still going to be writing texts and doing my best to give assistance to others who are struggling along their faith path (regardless of the fact they may not share mine). I know that I am doing the work that I have been called to. I have decided to let the politics happen on its own. That's Déa's business to worry about. I'll step into the mess when I see something obviously wrong (like the tolerance and encouragement of TERFs in the community). Otherwise, I'm just going to keep working like I did in the beginning, in relative silence and with my focus on the gods. My readers will find me as they did in the beginning and will spread the word to others, as they did in the beginning.

I'm not going to worry about community. I'm just going to write and do my thing. Writing to my audience was how I wound up in this block. I got tired and frustrated trying to predict what they were looking for. So, I'm going to stop doing that across all my blogs. I'm just going to write what seems logical, feels right, and/or is relevant to the topic of the day. I am not writing these books with the hope of making money. It was very nice to get a royalty check. It would be nice to get another one soon, but I'm not going to worry about it. I'm just going to produce the work and let the gods sort it out.

It is both liberating and disappointing to return to this position. I enjoyed the interplay between myself and others. It was a euphoric feeling to see my Twitter posts getting shared. I felt like I was making a difference and bringing some measure of light to the world through them. I know, now, that I am making a difference and bringing some measure of light to this world through my posts. But I don't need the feedback and popularity to do it. I can do it by just being myself and writing what I write. I had a brief moment of being one of the 'cool kids' and mistook it for acceptance. I realized, however, that it wasn't acceptance but my being used after they were so quick to turn on me the moment I stepped outside of their defined box.

I never said that I was an Orthodox Filianist. I have always said that I am an Independent one and one of the weirdest ones they're going to encounter. Apparently, they forgot that. So, all of their upset is really their own fault. I warned them at the beginning and reiterated it as I have gone along. So, I'm just going to keep doing my thing and trust that my audience will find me, like it did in the beginning.

Anxiety vs writing, round ???

 Between the conditioning that I got as a kid that my writing about anything occult/religious was going to get a highly negative (aka people trying to hurt me and my family) response and the negative response to the edition of the Clear Recital that I spearheaded, I've been anxious about my writing. I have been worried about a troll army descending on me and destroying everything I've worked for. I have been worrying about the prospect that in putting out that one book, I have lost my one steady market. Most of all, I have been afraid that my writing is, as the negative review and my insane mother described it, all vanity.

I'm not writing this stuff to try and make myself look important. I made the changes to the document based off of things revealed to other independent Filianists and the fact that the grammar was so awful that my kids (who are at a middle grade reading level) wouldn't be able to read it. I wanted to make the document more accessible to people. I am getting flamed for it and accused of not understanding English. It's made me angry and hurt because this came from someone that I had thought I had a good working relationship with.

I am trying to say 'fuck it, let the gods sort it out.' but that's not working so well because I have anxiety issues. They're ameliorated by my medications but they're still there. I am afraid that what I am going to write is going to result in an angry mob showing up and throwing bricks through my windows. It's awful. I go to write on my witchy blogs and I just freeze, questioning everything that I have to say.

It's like dealing with the mean girls from school all over again. While I don't have to worry about some one literally trying to light me on fire, it's triggering a lot of the trauma responses from all of that harassment. I know if I post this on the other blog, some wit will come back with 'if you can't take the heat, get out of the kitchen.' It's hard. 

Unwelcome?

 It seems that I've become unwelcome in the Filianic/Déanic community for that work I spearheaded. One of the big names in the Orthodox community got a bee in their bonnet and basically roasted the whole work and declared the copyright protection of it as evidence that I was arrogant and not pious enough or something. The entire community has gone silent involving me. I used to be a bit more active, then I got sick and I was less active. But there was still some interplay going on. Now? Radio silence.

I'm finding myself reminded why I didn't like organized religion. I'm finding myself wondering why I even bothered getting involved with this mess. It was nice to have a community, while it lasted. I guess I am going to be writing in a dark corner and just basically shout into the void.

Exhausted and not at the same time.

 I'm not sure what to write at the moment. I have spent the majority of my day doing line edits on a revision/version of a holy book for Filianism/Déanism. Even as I am working on this, I see the community that I've been writing stuff for getting very quiet. I don't know if it is burn out from the anxiety of Covid-19 plus this election cycle. I don't know if I'm just grinding away on something that is ultimately going to gather dust and be useless. I'm tired of editing and I'm only at the beginning of the process.

Even as I am doing this, one of the largest non-Aristasian aligned sects is being orphaned by their leadership who is taking their site and going LOLWERCHRISTIANNOW!1! They struggled under the influx of new members. Their staff were struggling to balance their lives outside of being clergy. They turned the site back to the founder, who had ghosted them once things started moving in a forward direction. After a month of silence, the founder says "yeah, we're leaving this up for 2 weeks and then we're taking the site down" followed a few days later by a post saying that they're converting the entire site to esoteric Christianity. 

Look, I get that Filianism has a lot of similarities with Christianity with that whole triune godhead thing and angelic orders. But, you built a cultus of worship, an entire tradition that people are still interested in following. And that is getting thrown out the window because Jesus. I'm sorry, but that sticks in my craw. I'm angry. I'm angry at the bait and switch this person pulled. I'm angry on the behalf of the people of this tradition who want to follow it as it was initiated and had been running up until Covid-19 hit. You don't build a religion or a sect of a religion and then throw it away because you decide its too much work or it isn't as shiny as you wanted it to be or because not enough people are kissing your ass.

You don't do that when you've got a following. You have a responsibility to those people. You set yourself up as a leadership figure, then you have to lead. If you can't lead, you have to find someone who can within the tradition do so. You don't fake dying (like one person did), you don't just vanish, and you sure as hell don't pull this bait and switch crap.

I had respect for this person. I watched them build this system and do a fair amount of good work in the community. If they had a spiritual revelation that they were on the wrong path, that's fine. You don't force your change in direction onto the people who were looking to you to continue to lead them on the path you started. You say "I'm sorry, but I can't do this anymore. I appoint so-and-so as my successor. I leave you in their care and with my blessing."

Oh boy, life's going to get interesting.

 The major leadership figures of the Filianic and Déanic faith traditions are going dark on the internet. It is happening just as there is a new wave of people who seek to learn about Filianism and Déanism. This would not be a big deal except for one thing. I'm one of the few public ordained priestesses still blogging and writing about Filianism (and my specific weird sect of it). I have a feeling that the pressures of dealing with the influx of new devotees caught people off guard and left them reeling. Rather an leaning into the situation, they chose to step back.

All of this comes on the heels of my realizing that my version of Filiansim really does qualify as its own sect. As such, I've been writing and working to bring my writings into alignment with the holy scriptures of this faith (known as the Clear Recital). I don't know what's going to become of this. I wonder if the universe had a reason for making the tarot business I was running tank on the same day that a major Déanic tradition announced that they were closing down their site and completely revamping it. 

There is a part of me that is annoyed. It wonders if these people were cosplaying being worshippers of Déa because they wanted to be unique. It wonders if the leadership figures were in it for power games and if they lacked the moral fortitude to step up and lead. I strive to put aside these cynical thoughts, but they keep creeping up when I recall how one of them faked their own death on social media much to the distress of many of the younger members of the faith.

I was going to try to focus on tarot reading while the kids were doing homework and such after school. I was going to write during the day while they were at school. Now... Now I feel like I need to schedule office hours for devotees of Déa to have consultation when they need it. Now I really feel the pressure to finish writing my version of the Clear Recital. I have no idea what's going to become of this. I didn't walk into this looking to be a leadership figure. 

I oathed myself to Déa a long time ago and figured that I'd spend my time in prayer and writing. Things kept happening that put me in a position where I was offering spiritual guidance after I finished my training in Wicca. Now, I don't know where this goes next. I have an uneasy feeling that I am going to be leading people and I'm not that great at public speaking. Gods help me, I don't know if this is going to go the way I suspect it will be or not.

And I have other writing commitments popping up. I've stumbled into the river of fate and I'm not sure if I'm about to hit the rapids or not. Wyrd goes where she will. I'll do my best to trust in the gods and stay out of my own way. I have this bad habit of getting nervous and then getting in my own way. Not so great if you're trying to do work or much of anything else.

My spiritual life is weird. And getting weirder.

 I keep a separate blog for my spiritual writings and such. It's not really a full reflection of the weirdness of my spiritual life but there are elements that I don't share there because I am trying to cultivate a professional life through that blog. As I am dealing with perimenopause, my emotions are all over the place. I'm upset because I was promised something like a rite of passage when I hit this stage of my life and there's nothing because that promise was a lie. I was promised rites of passage as I hit the ages where they'd happen and they didn't happen. Or at least, they weren't treated as special days.

When I turned sixteen, my parents humiliated me when my aunts attempted to make the rather pathetic 'celebration' more special by brigning out a cake that looked like a woman in an evening gown. My engagement party was rolled together in with my college graduation party and my parents tried to down play the engagement because they wanted to bask in the prestiege that I graduated college from Notre Dame of Maryland. They tried to sabotage my wedding and repeatedly told me that it wasn't about me but them. They were forced to put on their company manners and act like they wanted to be there because about half the guest list showed up. Mom still managed to humiliate me by wearing black. The only reason why there was a baby shower for my first child was because Beloved's mother arranged it. There was no baby shower for my second child. And I could go on with the list of things promised and either executed deliberately badly or not at all from my parents.

Now, one may wonder what in hell this has to do with my spiritual life. Well, at sixteen, the aunt who was high priestess of the coven I was in gave me a sickle. This indicated that I had completed my spiritual education and I was ready to lead a coven of my own. At college, I began to act as an unofficial Wiccian liason to the campus ministry in the wake of the terrorist attacks September of 2001. I was a spiritual advisor to other students who were not affiliated with Christianity. I continued this manner of work on a sporadic basis after college.

At the same time, from age fourteen on, I began experiencing mystical things. I didn't talk about them because of my parents repeated threats to have me insitutionalized for being a normal teen. There were times, however, that I'd come into the houe after having sat outside on the hill meditating and my mother bitched about how I stank of roses (I wasn't wearing perfume that day). I would spend time with one foot in the 'real' world and one foot in the spirit world on a regular basis. It was a safe place that I could retreat to when the abuse I was livign with got to be too much. I could "zone out" and be where I had allies who comforted me and reassured me that the gaslighting wasn't the truth and I was going to eventually be out of that house.

The mystical experiences were potent and helped to keep me sane. They have continued up until this day. Precognitive dreams happened more before I developed bipolar. I can still read a tarot deck like nobody's business. I have the infamous 'godphone' going on which allows me to communicate more clearly with the deities in my life. It is like stepping sideways of 'reality' and interacting with them. It is pretty much the same skill that I taught myself but focused on deities. About in 2014, I was told that Freyr wanted me to be a godspouse by someone who was in a deep devotional relationship with him. I was intimidated at first and basically did everything I could to avoid him.

He made a point of being present and doing his best to court me. I suddenly went from having plants dying on me (with the exception of the unkillable snake plant my paternal grandmother gave me and the spiderplant she gave me) to having a thriving indoor garden. He came to me in dreams and visions. He was always kind and, at the same time, hesitant. At one point, Freyja spoke to me through one of her priestesses and chastised me for stringing her brother along. I confessed my fear that all of this was madness. Freyja told me that it was my upbringing talking, my experiences were real, and I should just embrace Freyr. I discussed things with Freyr and basically treated it like arraning ground rules for how a poly relationship in meat space was going to work. He agreed. And then Loki ... well, Loki decided that my attraction to him was mutual after years of going "Yer cute" and said that the arrangement I worked out with Freyr sounded fine to him. So, I went to Beloved and dicussed this whole business of being a pagan nun (which is basically what godspousery is).

After some serious discussion, I took up Freyr and Loki on their proposals. That was when life became more interesting. Things that I had been working on in the past began accelerating forward. We avoided sure disasters in odd ways. Storms of trouble just went around us. I made huge strides in my efforts to heal from the trauma of the past. To the point that I can write about it with out being completely terrified (most of the time). It was also at this time that the Goddess who I oathed myself to as a priestess when I was fourteen and had my first vision of her fully revealed herself. 

Now that I've told most of my story, I am going to begin posting things on here that pertain to my spiritual life as well as my 'regular' life. I know it is going to look weird. It is weird. Beloved and I don't talk about it alot because we tend to take the approach that our relationships with metamours is our relationships. We may discuss details on occasion but we tend to keep the relationships separate and when we interact with the metamours of our partner be as friendly as possible, because they're someone that our partner cares about deeply.

The spiritual relationships doesn't make a big impact on the relationship I have with Beloved. That's for two reasons. It's been made clear in the spiritual relationships that Beloved is my primary partner. That makes my relationship with him take precedence over my relationships with them. I told them this was a hard limit. I don't have too many hard limits, but that's one of them. They were shocked by the implication that either Freyr or Loki would demand that I give up my marriage to Beloved for them. Freyr was especially scandalized by this. Loki wanted to know whose knees he needed to take out that dared to say that I would have had to give up such an obviously healthy and beneficial relationship. 

The second reason the spiritual relationships don't make a big impact on the relationship I have with Beloved is because both Freyr and Loki would drop the spiritual relationship if it came close to causing problems in the marriage I have or my relationship with my children. They have made a point of giving me advice on how to improve my communication with Beloved when I'm in a bad headspace. They've made a point of doing their best to support us. At one point, Loki and Freyr both said, "What kind of gods would we be if we didn't help you and your family?" That help shows up in odd ways at times, like disasters being narrowly averted by the quirk of luck. But they make a point of doing their best to help us. Part of that help is respecting the dynamic that Beloved and I have on the polyamoury front. While Loki and Freyr discuss things and such, they focus on me and my relationship with them.

This is a long, rambling post. It wasn't entirely what I intended it to be. At the same time, it covers most of the bases. I had a point and just lost it as I was writing. Sorry if it makes so little sense.

♥

NaBloPoMo 20

So, there's controversy in the Filianic community. I weighed in and now there are figures backpedaling and saying that I have taken what they said out of context. I suppose it was a matter of time until this happened. I kicked over a rock and all things come skittering out. I'm weighing how to respond.

I don't know why this keeps happening. I get involved with a community. At some point some hoity-toity garbage gets spewed and I can't help but respond. It's a visceral 'wait a second, that's weapons grade bullshit going on" response. At the same time, I've gotten an anonymous question in my ask box inquiring if my position on TERFs (trans-exclusive radical feminists) remains the same. I have a feeling that my "down to earth" style of communication may wind up with my getting asked to leave the community.

I am of a bad feeling that this is going to go like the last time I got involved with a "organized" group of witches. Someone says something that sets off my bullshit radar. I speak up. They get into a collective snit because I called out someone that they decided was above being called out. And I either get booted from the group or the situation becomes hostile enough that I just leave so I don't have to deal with their shenanigans.

There were people, back when the TERFs matter initially came up a few months ago, who tried to argue that we should be tolerant of TERFs. I blasted that argument to pieces with scripture quotes and logic. This time around, it was logic and a linguistics lesson. I'm sorry, but when their sources say that the term "lady" means "loaf kneader" and "lord" means "loaf warder", I have to correct that. I love the English language too much to let that slide.

Return to your roots.

So many signs point me back at my roots. At the same time, there are places I can not go now. There are people I can not talk to now. I question where my roots are and just how much of it is a fabric of lies. Perhaps this is why I am getting this message so many times from so many places. Spiritually, I am on the verge of a month of discipline and preparation for spring. I am facing the beginning of a week where the kids are on break from school. I'm not feeling very well. I'm not sleeping very well.

And yet, I feel this deep pull to go back to my roots. Not just here, but on my other blogs. In my other writing. I feel almost compelled to exhume my old work from high school to just review it. I kept my writing journals and my personal journals. They're among my prized possessions. They're my memories when my brain is not functioning correctly. I've added to them my daily journal in the planner format.

I don't know why it is so important for me to return to my roots. But, I find myself wishing I could walk the hills of my youth and hear my grandparents' voices again. I find myself wishing that I could have one more cup of tea with my late aunt and let her know that I actually wanted her at my wedding but my parents pressured me into not inviting her and her wife. I find myself not missing my childhood but reliving parts of it by way of dreams and being confused.

My memories are a patchwork of trauma and blank spaces from that period of my life with shining moments of joy interspersed. There are more blank spaces then happy memories. And intermixed with it all is the narrative that I was told about my childhood from my parents, which runs so very contrary to what my memories tell me.

Go back to my roots. How do I find the roots of it all if I can't remember the way? I suppose the gods and my ancestors will show me the way. They always have.

My thoughts on Orlando.

It is a very ... meaty post. I tried to give a little bit of a crash course in philosophy in my post. It is at best, the beginning of a discussion on what is happening and how to handle it. At worst, I will have managed to single handedly offend a laundry list of people through the use of my philosophy and religion minor's being applied in my writing.

Here's the link: Atrocity, Evil, and the Gods.

Open Letter to Mr. Steve Finnell

On a few different occasions, Mr. Finnell has responded to my posts with an eager effort to promote his faith. I am not opposed to such things, however, I did not publish his replies due to the fact they were entirely tangential (at best) to the subject matter of my posts. Out of respect for Mr. Finnell's apparently earnest desire for dialogue, I am taking the time to direct a post to him. I ask that Mr. Finnell, upon reading this post, please do me the kindness of responding in the comments.

His desire for discussion upon this topic seems sincere but he seems hesitant to engage it upon my other blogs. Thus, I am breaking from my usual posting habits to touch upon this subject in this blog as a gesture of kindness and respect for his apparent discomfort to approach me elsewhere. I welcome others who would wish to join this discussion to do so in the comments as well. While this is my blog, I recognize that I am part of a larger community and that this is the digital equivalent of sitting on the front porch and talking with the neighbors.

All I ask, and I state this only for the sake of clarity, is that the discussion be conducted in a respectful tone. I give my most solemn word that I will treat all comers to this discussion with hospitality and kindness. However, if someone chooses to be offensive in their treatment of myself or others who are engaged in this discussion, I will not post their reply. I know that common courtesy is something of a rarity on the internet and it saddens me that I felt it necessary to make the aforementioned statement. That, however, is something for a different post.

In his most recent reply to one of my posts, Mr. Finnell posted the following:

IS GOD'S GRACE IRRESISTIBLE? BY STEVE FINNELL The doctrine of irresistible grace, that was promoted by John Calvin, teaches that God's grace is applied only to those to whom He has determined to save, overcoming their resistance to obeying the call of the gospel, imputing them with faith in Christ so that they might become saved. God's grace is available to all who hear the gospel. Titus 2:11 For the grace of God that brings salvation has appeared to all men. God's grace is available to all men, however, most men reject the salvation offered by God. Men have a choice, grace is not irresistible. Matthew 7:13-14 "Enter by the narrow gate; for wide is the gate and broad is the way that leads to destruction, and there are many who go in by it. 14 Because narrow is the gate and difficult is the way which leads to life, and there are few who find it. Men can and do resist the Holy Spirit. Acts 7:51 "You stiff-necked and uncircumcised in heart and ears! You always resist the Holy

I realize that one might feel somewhat constrained by the format of posting replies here on Blogger. I question, however, why Mr. Finnell felt it necessary to post his reply with such dense text. A few line breaks would have made it much easier to read. I ask that in future posting, that Mr. Finnell use line breaks to delineate the difference between the Bible passages he is quoting and his personal sentiments. The format that he has used thus far is very difficult to read, from a technical standpoint. It fatigues the eye and makes it confusing.

Also, ending with a dangling participle is simply bad form, Mr. Finnell. Please, refrain from doing so. If one must end a statement before completing a quote, it is accepted practice to use an ellipsis. If you are not familiar with an ellipsis, it is formed thusly: [...]. I recognize that my arguments thus far are fare more ... peevish and narrow then what one might expect at the outset of this discussion. I confess, I have times where I have played fast and loose with the rules of written communication myself.

It seems, however, that more casual attention to written communication denotes more casual concern with the subject matter. If I am not mistaken, Mr. Finnell, you consider the subject you are attempting to engage me in to be one of great importance. Additionally, it seems to me that the holy book which you are referencing would be one that you hold in high regard and would expend the extra effort to make sure that you are clearly expressing your quotations with the level of gravitas that is merited by the subject matter and source material.

Please, Mr. Finnell, in your responses to me upon this subject, take the time to make your responses easily readable. It makes it not only easier for me to understand what you are communicating but makes me more inclined to engage you upon the subject. I prefer to discuss topics of religion with individuals who are educated to a moderate extent because I come away from the conversation having learned something. It is my hope that this discussion will prove profitable to both of us and the only way that we can begin to approach this is with a clearly defined framework for communication.

Now, I express some disappointment, Mr. Finnell, that you did not identify which version of the Bible you are referencing here. There are subtle but meaningful differences in the language used in the different versions of the Bible that are on the market. I did take a moment to review a few posts on your blog. It seems that you are using the New King James Version. I do now own this version, however, I have an Authorized King James Version. I hope that the differences in the material are not so great as to hinder discussion. I ask, however, that in the future, when you are using quotations, that you note which version of the Bible you are using. I do not know if you, like myself, own multiple versions of this holy book. I would like to be able to reference the same material as you are so that I might be able to understand the quotation in its full context.

I find it curious that you open your post with a declaration. I can not tell if this declaration is from yourself or the esteemed John Calvin. (John Calvin was a very wise man who did a great deal of work to encourage the Protestant reformation and I respect his efforts highly. I would assume from your referencing of him that you are of the Calvinist denomination. If I am incorrect in this assumption, please be so kind as to share what denomination you follow. I am most curious, however, I digress. You open with the following declaration:

The doctrine of irresistible grace, that was promoted by John Calvin, teaches that God's grace is applied only to those to whom He has determined to save, overcoming their resistance to obeying the call of the gospel, imputing them with faith in Christ so that they might become saved. God's grace is available to all who hear the gospel.

If irresistible grace is applied to those whom your God has decided to save, would it not happen that I would be aware of this grace? Would it not have refashioned my beliefs or otherwise reshaped the structure of my life whereby accepting the 'call of the gospel' becomes the only logical path in my life? Additionally, Mr. Finnell, what exactly would your God be saving me from?

It is the belief of your sect that all of humanity is depraved and incapable of ethical behavior with out the intervention of your God. I question how it is that you feel so empowered to make such judgments about myself. Does not the very Bible you have quoted admonish believers to remember that such judgments are the purview of God alone? The sermon upon the Mount of Olives is a very clear lesson upon this matter. It would be the very height of hubris to make such judgments and act upon them.

Your aggressive insistence that I pay court to your efforts to proselytize to me would lead me to infer that you believe that I am amongst the worst wicked and that my salvation must be accomplished by way of your efforts in addition to those of your God. For, indeed, such aggressive efforts to persuade me away from my path bespeaks a lack of faith that your God is sufficient to change my heart upon his own efforts. Is your God omnipotent or not? If your God is omnipotent, then you have no work to do.

Indeed, if your God is omnipotent and desires me to change my ways, he would know the best way to persuade me. It would happen in a manner that I would have no choice but either accept or reject because I would see quite clearly the logical choice in the matter. There would be no fuzzy arguments about ethics, the qualities of God, or what humanity's proper relationship with God, itself, and the world should be.

Titus 2:11 For the grace of God that brings salvation has appeared to all men. God's grace is available to all men, however, most men reject the salvation offered by God. Men have a choice, grace is not irresistible.

The quote above leads me to question, Mr. Finnell, if humanity has a choice to reject your God, what power does your God have? How exactly can your God save me if his will is undone by a person merely saying 'no'? I have been beset by great harm and difficulty in my 35 years upon Earth. In those times of difficulty, why did your God not stretch forth his hand and shelter me from the evil that was visited upon me? It would have won him a steadfast and unshakeable convert, I assure you. Yet, your God did no such thing, for myself or many others whom have been or are currently in such a position.

Why does your God rely upon such weak vessels as human action if he truly seeks to save the world? Could it be that those of us who have not been favored by such a kindly glance from your God are not amongst the chosen? I ask, could it be that I was destined for my heathen ways? And, if this was the case, would it not be arrogance and foolishness to attempt to persuade me to take a different path? Would this not be another manifestation of a failure to have complete faith in your God, whom your faith teaches is omnipresent, omnipotent, and all knowing?

Indeed, Mr. Finnell, is it not possible that I, a mere housewife, am placed here to serve as a mirror whereby you might examine your own faith and your efforts to convert me are you moving against the plan of your God? For, if your God has shaped all things and knows the hearts of all humanity, then I am precisely as your God has formed me and I fulfill the role that he has placed me in simply as I am. All life experiences and genetic programming that has lead me to this precise moment in time happened in accordance with your God's will, according to most Christian thought, and I am as I should be with out any action upon your part. It would be a dangerous act of will for one to oppose an omnipotent, omnipresent, all knowing being.

You would have my believe that your presence, as persistent as it is, is a manifestation of that super abundant grace and that your efforts to convert me are endorsed by this. I question, is it your God's will that you are engaged in or your own? You would be quick to declare me amongst the proud and wicked, Mr. Finnell, but what evidence have you that I am so? How is a peaceable person who deals fairly with others and abides by the laws of the land amongst the wicked? How is a person who is more concerned with the good of others then that of themselves amongst the wicked?

I practice my faith quietly. I do good work in my community where I can. I am raising my boys to be good men who respect and honor other people. I do not harm others. I even work to be ecologically sound in my work around the house and in my purchasing efforts, thereby acting as a good steward of the land for the generations that follow me. Please, I ask you, show me what evil these actions have caused? How does this place me amongst the people who are in need of salvation?

Furthermore, what exactly would I be being saved from? What of the people who died unaware of the gospel, Mr. Finnell? The unbaptized and ignorant of your faith, are they condemned as well by their accident of birth? Ah, wait, I forget, Mr. Finnell, a central tenet of your sect of Christianity is that all of humanity is depraved. Thus the infant child is somehow equally as much of an affront to the eyes of your God as he who murders and commits acts of rape. Explain to me, please Mr. Finnell, how that works. The infant child is not yet capable of moral reasoning. They act out of ignorance, in their limited capacity for action, and are not yet experienced enough to conceptualize abstract concepts like malice. The murderer has their faculties and the ability to act as a moral agent. They can consciously choose how to proceed and engage in actions deliberately, even when they choose not to consider those actions fully.

You would have me embrace your faith on the basis of a few quotes. Within those quotes are a thinly veiled threat of punishment if I do not make the 'right' choice and an insult against my person. If such tactics were undertaken at any other juncture, what ever decision I made would be under duress and not of my own free will, if I had felt sufficiently threatened by the threat of punishment. If I were to choose conversion under those circumstances, I did not choose it of my own free will but to avoid punishment. As such, by being forced into such a choice, I didn't make a choice but rather complied with those who were forcing me into the situation out of a sense of self preservation, much like a man who is being robbed at gunpoint would hand over his wallet rather then being shot. The man does not know if the gun is loaded and is forced to operate on the assumption that it is and complies for the sake of his well being.

You, Mr. Finnell, have placed me in this position. Your God seeks a conversion via free will. Your efforts, however, have placed me in a position where said conversion would not be of my free will. Thus, you are undermining God and engaging in a dangerous game, sir. And all of this is with out any consideration for the question of the existence of other Gods and the possible role they play in this scenario.

I ask you, sir, why do you threaten as part of your efforts to convert? The gospel is supposed to be about good news (as that is the root of the term gospel even) and making the world aware of God's love of humanity. One does not persuade a person with threats. That is terrorizing them. Indeed, one could argue that it is psychological and emotional blackmail to do so. I am made of sterner stuff and do not take kindly to such efforts. I will, however, overlook your thinly veiled threats if you would engaged me by way of reason. Persuade me, Mr. Finnell. Tell me what good your God has done for you and the world. Explain to me why your God would permit the evils that happened to me and turned a deaf ear when I appealed for aid.

It was not your God that delivered me from evil, by the way. It was my Gods that helped me to endure it and defend myself from it when it came again in my life. I place low value upon a 'savior' who refuses to rescue a child from a dangerous situation.

Thoughts on life after Grandpa's death.

I originally wrote this to be submitted for a website discussing grief and how to cope with it. The article was rejected. I still want to share this, thus I am presenting it here.

In August of 2013, my paternal grandfather died due to complications from brain cancer. The news that he had cancer came at the beginning of the holidays last year. A few days shy of Thanksgiving, we had all thought that he had a minor stroke. After a series of tests and a biopsy, the news came that it was inoperable brain cancer. Of all of us, it was my grandfather who took the news in relative stride. Once the initial shock of the news wore off, he set to work learning everything he could about what was happening to himself and doing everything he could to see to it that his wife of 60 years, my grandmother, was taken care of.

The hardest part of it all for me wasn't his death. It was witnessing the way the chemotherapy made this formerly hale 84 year old man into a frail man who was in near constant pain. My grandfather fought his cancer with the same good humor and determination that he brought to bear on stubborn problems with his farming equipment, his beloved airplane, and the challenges that came up as the patriarch of our family. It was inspiring to see, even as it was heart breaking to watch as his body failed to keep up with his indomitable spirit.

The day my grandfather died happened to be my eldest son's birthday. We got the phone call from my parents that my grandfather had developed sepsis the night before. I had a terrible feeling in the pit of my stomach just as I had the day before my grandfather had gotten his diagnosis of cancer. My intuition was screaming at me that this man I loved dearly was actively dying.

In the middle of the night, August 21st, I drove to the hospital. A queer sense of calm flooded me as I looked at that moonlit night. I found myself reminded of one of the last times that I had gone flying with my grandfather. It was a night flight with a waning gibbous. The stars shone like diamonds and the moon hung in the sky like a disc of hammered silver. The hum of the airplane's engine and the roar of the propellers was muted to a tolerable level by the headphones we were wearing.

As my grandfather explained to me how we were using instruments to navigate, my teenage self was enraptured. It was the closest I had ever come to fulfilling my childhood dreams of becoming an astronaut. When my grandfather let me take the stick and fly the plane for a minute, I was speechless with delight and wonder. That memory wrapped around me as I drove to the hospital to help keep deathwatch, though none of us dared say it out loud.

At the hospital, my grandfather was heavily sedated and beyond the reach of any of our abilities to communicate with him. He lay in the bed with a sickly pallor over him. I spoke to my grandmother and my aunt, desperately hoping that I was providing them with some form of comfort. As the minutes ticked by, the paper mask I wore to protect my frail grandfather from my germs grew hot and stifling. My body became restless and a part of me wanted to flee from the room.

I did not want to be witness to watching one of the strongest men in my life dying. The child in me wanted him to live forever. I forced myself to stay. I watched as his head jerked in seizures that were still wracking his body, despite the medications that were supposed to halt them. When that became too painful to look at, I looked at his feet. It was a curious thing to realize that I had my grandfather's toes.

Looking back on it, I suppose it was my mind's way of searching for something positive to seize upon. When my grandmother expressed her discomfort with remaining in the room, then I felt that I had permission to leave the room. The last time that I saw my grandfather alive, he had just finished shuddering with a seizure and his heart rate had become terribly unstable. I went home but I slept poorly.

The next day, I was frantic with activity. As I was out getting groceries, a curious feeling passed over me. I felt as though the world had become a touch colder, despite the fact that it was a sweltering day of near record heat in the middle of August. When I got home from my errands, I learned that it was the time that my grandfather had died. The next few days were something of a blur.

I had so dearly wanted to do more to be of help to my parents and my grandmother. Unfortunately, there was nothing I could do and responsibilities to my own family kept me from being there with them in their grief. When the day of his memorial services came, I was short tempered and anxious. I had moved from disbelief and shock into anger.

I had mistakenly thought that I had passed through that stage already upon learning that my grandfather had cancer. I was wrong. My husband bore my moodiness patiently and forgave me my waspish temper. I still hadn't wept by this time. Not in the course of the many months between November and August had I truly mourned the situation.

I instead sought to out run my feelings by way of work and staying busy. It was at my grandfather's urging that I wrote the first two books of my adult fiction series. It was because of him that I published my first book. In all of that effort, I struggled with my feelings. I swayed back and forth between shoving them aside and mercilessly picking them apart. I poured my anguish and rage into conflicts on paper. Conflicts that I could resolve with a heroic ending.

I sit here a little over three months after the death of my grandfather. It still hurts, but I find that it propels me forward. The dignity with which my grandfather faced his mortality lent a heroic ending to his story. As I continue to 'write' my own story, I find that echoes of his story come up often. Where this would have paralyzed me and left me a broken mess in the past, I now strive to be like a resonating string on a violin. From the depths of grief, some of the sweetest music may be written. It is this capacity to pick ourselves up and continue on that honors the dead. It is how they live on through us.

Update

For a brief time, I suppose I could say that I truly did lose my mind. A few weeks ago, I got home from an approximately month long stay at the hospital for a nervous breakdown. I'm doing much better and my medications are helping a lot. It was, however, one of the most terrifying experiences I've ever had in my life. I'm not exactly of a mind to talk about it here, but it is enough to say that the Psych ward was the exact opposite of what I expected and I obviously survived the experience.

One of the results of my stay at the hospital was an almost literal explosion of artwork. I'm finishing projects left and right even as I have been working on filling two books with sketches. I have decided to start selling my art work on Etsy and I will be posting links to it. I could argue that I have acquired a new totem as well - the butterfly. The butterfly, the phoenix, the cat, and the raven were all quite present for me as I was working thru my efforts at the hospital.

Images of the four popped up quite frequently and I found myself contemplating them very often. The butterfly and the phoenix are symbols of radical transformation. The cat is a symbol of independence, healing, and protection. The raven is a symbol of introspection, courage, and self-knowledge. The four, together, represent a great deal of who and what I am. Additional meanings, as I read about them, have been most illuminating.

I suspect as time goes on, I'm going to find more and more about these totems to be true about the situation I've been living in. Interestingly, the cat is a symbol of the Norse goddess Freja, who has been quite present in my dreams, as well as of Frigga. The raven represents Odin, who has been very present as well. I'm not entirely sure why I have been having so many dreams focused upon the Teutonic aspect of my heritage.

I think it may be because I'm in the midst of redefining how I approach my heritage. I am redefining my relationship with my side of the extended family and how I approach my memories. It has been difficult but it has also been necessary, thus I do so. I'm not sure what else to add. I'll probably think of more later.