Evening Prayers, called Compline, are the only time we meet as a group. Our directors call it group worship and my heart yearns for music, but I’m learning to worship without a song and that’s not a bad thing.
We prayed antiphonally and it was beautiful harmony- the voices of these women- raspy from non-use- speaking the 91st Psalm together.
I was unsettled for a moment as the women’s voices speaking in unison came very near the sound of a Wiccan chanting circle.
This is a new sensation for me, this mirroring of my past life. But more and more, I find myself caught off guard by a similarity. Things I have done for years now in my Christian walk will now remind me of rituals or circumstances from my old occult ways. I find it startling- and I wonder if God has kept this revelation from me until now when I have the maturity and spiritual support to handle it.
So now I find myself back in my room. Listening to a storm blow strong across the mountain and spilling these words onto paper. My jaw holds this tension like a clamp. My head aches with the force of it and I’m no sure how to relieve the pressure there. I suppose that means that maybe the fear has subsided, but the anxiety still remains, and I am not sure what to do with that, but I know God does so I just sit with it for a while longer and pray that tomorrow will be more comfortable and I just know that it will far exceed my expectations.