This is horrifically late, I know. I do apologise.
I wanted to talk about faith. Specifically, of course, religious faith. What is it that causes us to have it? Do we follow blindly, or do we have solid reasons?
I never truly felt faith until I heard the call of the gods. I never honestly knew what it was to honour deities, to trust a path until the Norse gods came into my life. When I was first starting out along the pagan path, I was delving deep into Wicca. Being wholly new and hence more than a little naive, I thought then that everyone had to have a patron god, and I will admit that it stressed me out a little. I felt rushed to have one. What I didn’t realise was that gods would not instantly come the minute I fell into paganism.
My first encounter with a deity came a couple of months after I began reading into Wicca. The deity in question was Herne. He aided me a little, but did not stay long, and soon disappeared.
After this, my interest in Wicca and paganism on a whole waned. I had not understood that gods did not always stay for extended periods of time, and I felt unwanted. My fascination lessened for around half a year.
That was, until I began to feel drawn to paganism once more. This time, wiser than before, I trod carefully, not wanting to rush headlong into anything. I discovered that Wicca was not the only path, that paganism had many threads and roads I could travel along. And so, I looked into the concepts that I felt most drawn to, ones that I wanted to embrace. This I duly did, and continued to shape my path as I grew.
I still did not know where I was going in relation to deities. I wanted to believe in them, but having had no signs or hints that they existed, I couldn’t. I had always been agnostic, but now I wanted something more. Yet I buried it, thinking nothing would ever come of my longing.
Fast-forward a few months to November 2011.
A deity hit me like a storm.
He had left several signs which, looking back, made it fairly obvious who was trying to catch my attention. After I called Him out on it, hardly daring to believe it actually was Him, well, that was when the fun started.
And He hasn’t left since.
We had fights and arguments, and several occasions of Him telling me not to doubt. I was finding it hard to believe, despite having wanted to for, realistically, years. Loki is not one to naturally tread gently, and I was thrown straight into the deep end, as it were. He turned my spiritual life on its head. I had never had any deities to hold faith in, and all of a sudden the Norse pantheon was descending on me like a hurricane. I couldn’t turn away even if I had wanted to, I was so drawn to Them. Loki’s family in particular opened Their arms wide to me, and it still amazes me that They’re not bored of me yet!
So why I do I have faith in these gods of mine?
I just do. I see Them, hear Them, and on occasion am able to touch Them. Knowing that, knowing that They exist, how can I simply turn my back and throw it all away?
The answer is simple.
And I honestly don’t want to.