A Call to Action, a Call to Arms

Throughout my life, the angels and gods that have been by my side since childhood have told me to serve – to fight for outcasts and the disenfranchised – Loki teachs me to have compassion for the homeless and mentally ill, Coyote, Freyr, and Thunderbird have told me to protect and fight for the environment, climate, animals and plants with all my being and heart, the angels have countlessly called on me to serve the poor, the children, immigrants, to help those that cannot help themselves.

I often wondered why beings like the archangel Michael have been appearing to me in visions and dreams since I was a child and telling me over and over again to love with all my heart, that God/dess is Love, that at the core of every warrior’s soul is a brilliant light that cannot be put out by the forces of darkness. I’m not a warrior – or so I thought.

I have struggled so much with faith and my calling, but it is time for me to accept that I am loved by God and that I have a purpose – we all do. I am ready to fight the good fight, to become even more of an activist and servant of righteousness, humanity, and our planet.

For so long I thought God hated me and ran from my calling. It is a burden no one should bear and to Know and See God is to die, over and over again, only to be reborn.

To meet the Holy Spirit, the angels, the gods, is humbling, terrifying, a soul-ripping bliss of horror. It drives you to write poems upon poems and dance with frenzy and see your Beloved God reflected in every drop of rain.

As we enter an extremely dark period of American history, I understand why St. Michael calls me a warrior and a daughter of God, his lessons in when to make peace and not war, to be not prideful but humble, strong, hands in the dirt with God as your sword and shield:

I am here to fight the good fight, and I cannot give up despite all the hatred and brutality that rests in the hearts of half our nation.

I have questioned my faith and experiences for decades, as only any 12 year old terrified of her first vision of a mighty and powerful archangel that knows her most secret of names does, and will probably continue to do so, but from my very first cradlebound memory to yesterday, when the angels gave me comfort as I faced the rise of a demagogue that shook me to my very core – they have whispered to me:

Go on. Grow. Stand tall, be strong, do not bend, do not break. No matter your creed or lack of one, I think we can all agree that love is the core of existence, and we must act with lovingkindness as neighbors of our fellow citizens and of the world.

Call me insane or a heretic, but I serve the God without a name, without religious creed – Mother Nature, whose children are all the colors of the rainbow – the trees and animals and beautifully diverse races of humanity that are united for the common good.

I will not give in to desperation or fear.

I will fight with my last breath. I will serve my spirits and God well. I will create a world that my children’s children will be proud of.

And if I’m insane? At least my insanity drives me to the work Jesus began long ago.

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