Today, my home shrine blazed with the fires of devotion, the first time since . . . I don't remember.
So much has happened, and I let the truly important things fall by the wayside. My devotion and worship is almost forgotten to me now. It hasn't really been that long, but I can only half-remember the way to do my worship properly.
Do I fill the Well or light the Fire first?
Which deity statue do I honour first?
Do I call out to the Gatekeeper?
Follow your heart.
I close my eyes. I breathe in. I center and open.
The box of matches in in my hand. I strike one against it, watching it flare up.
Light the sacred fires. One, two, three. The match still burns.
The Gods also desire honour.
I step back. The altar is ablaze with light. It is not only a rekindled set of candles; the light of my faith has found new kindling. My faith burns brightly on that altar.
I pray to each deity represented. I pray to those who are not seen.
"Come into my heart-shrine."
And they do.
I can feel their presence, warming, nurturing.
"We never left," they say to me. "We were always here. There is no shame, there is nothing to forgive. Let us hold you."
And I do.
I bask in their love and their warmth.
I remember the old bargains, forged so long ago between men and gods.
I stand, a pillar between the worlds.
One night does not make me devout. One ritual is not piety.
The road ahead is full of strength, faith, and love. I need merely to follow it.
[A gold star to Erien, whose off-hand request that I do 65 situps got me in front of my altar last night. Yes, my vision of piety is a bit skewed.]