Sick prompt:
A comes home from work late at night and creeps into bed without turning on any lights and pulls B in to spoon them. Immediately, A notices that B is way warmer than normal and coughs a little bit as A pulls them into their arms. The movement bothers B’s nose, and they wake up a bit to sneeze messily across A’s forearms enclosed around B’s chest. One spraying, wet, “hH—idtzCHhiewh!” contagious sneeze before B sniffles and drifts off back to sleep.
Worried, A flicks on the lamp and looks around the room: it looks like a sick person’s crime scene. Bottles of cold and cough medicine on the dresser, tissues scattered that didn’t make it into the bin, cough drop wrappers littered on the nightstand. A didn’t notice any of it in the dark, but now with the light they can finally see that B has caught a cold, and a bad one at that.
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Hi!! I'm a Christian, and while I've encountered people who combine witchcraft with their Christian faith, I've never understood it. I saw in your pinned post that this is something you do. If you're willing/interested/have the energy, would you be willing to share more about that? Or point me in the direction of some more information on it?
I know really little about this, and I really want to understand more. I'm not coming here to be critical, just super curious. :D Hope you're well!
Hello there! 😃👋 I hope that you're doing well, too, and sure, I'd love to share a little more about combining witchcraft with my Christian faith!
I think, for starters, that it's important to remember that, like for everything else in life, how I've experienced this might not be how another Christian witch experiences it, views it, or even came about it. But I think that as Christians we can also understand that fairly easily, as that's just how a lot of us experience Christianity in and of itself. How one person came to Christ won't always be the same way that another person has come to Christ, and how we worship won't always look the same, either. It's just like that for Christian witches, too.
In an attempt to make a very long story short (spoiler alert: I failed), I feel like I am very lucky and blessed to have grown up with a Methodist mom, Southern Baptist father, aunts who were Catholic, cousins who became atheist and agnostic and friends at school who were Muslim and Jewish. I was surrounded by all sorts of different paths to take, and my mom had always encouraged my brother and I to choose our faiths for ourselves when we were old enough to understand what having faith really means, which is why we weren't baptized when we were babies, but raised in church nonetheless. I grew up very faithful. Sunday School was my favorite part of the week, and I loved to learn more about God and Jesus and say my prayers at meals and at night. God always made me feel loved. Still does 🩷
When I was in middle school, I was very, very traditional. I was open minded to others, but I was always hesitant to let myself explore more things for myself. I think I was afraid that exploring meant that I was a bad Christian, that I was questioning God, and I didn't want to make Him angry or upset with me. But I eventually met a friend who was a Wiccan, worshiping a god and goddess, living by the cycles of the moon and seasons, doing spells and rituals and worshiping at home or in nature. I loved things like that growing up, but always thought that it was just something from Hollywood or the mideavel period at best. I didn't think people actually did it, though I had always wished that they did. Little middle schooler me thought that maybe this was God's way of giving me permission to explore more, so I asked questions, watched spells and rituals, learned correspondences, and eventually asked, "Is there a Christian faith that's like this, too?"
Turns out there wasn't really one specific faith in Christianity that I could find, but rather, a practice instead. Google led me down so many different paths of people who were both Christians and witches and I decided I wanted to give it a try, too. And honestly? It felt like my faith was renewed. I felt like by choosing how I specifically worship and "do Christianity", I was making a relationship with God and Jesus and even the Holy Spirit that was closer than ever before because I was letting myself actually feel my faith instead of just going through motions at church, which was a rut than even middle school me was stuck in. I wasn't just doing what I thought I had to, I was doing what I wanted to do to show God my love and faith, and it really empowered me to form my own path in life, one that was and still is Christ centered, even if not in a way that tends to be expected for Christians.
So, the witchcraft itself: personally, I don't know if I view my spells an rituals the same way that other witches do. I don't really do a spell and think of it as me bending the wills that be to my desire, but rather, I view it as a really intense prayer. I see it as me using visual representations of my goals, needs and wants as a way to show God what it is I feel like I need (or just really, really want lol), but I always still leave it up to Him and His plans at the end of the day. I can do a thousand spells for the same thing over and over again, but if God says no, than the answer is no, ya know? My rituals are just ways to show my love, devotion, and gratitude. I pay special attention to seasons because the world God made is beautiful in all of its many ways, and personally, when I take the time to rest in the winter or come alive in the summer, I feel like I'm using the natural patterns of the Earth to further build my relationship with God, and Jesus, too. I feel like God made so many things in a natural rhythm and pattern--I just try to live by those things to strengthen the relationship between us.
I'm sure you can tell by how many times I've said it, but at the end of the day, it's all about my relationship with God and our Savior, just like for other Christians. I'm just doing things a bit differently. I'm 1000% that there are people who don't believe that this is a "valid" thing to do or that I'm sinning or that I'm going to Hell for all of this, but their opinions don't matter to me. My relationship with the Lord, His Son, and His Spirit matters to me, and when I do the things that make me feel the closest to Him, that make me feel His love and grace, then I feel like I'm doing fine.
Allllllll of that being said, there's lot of different ways that other Christian witches worship or practice witchcraft, which I think is really cool! There are some that have Mother Mary as a huge focus in their worship, or the Saints, or even the Disciples! I especially like witchcraft that involves the angels (Gabriel, my beloved 🤍). Personally, I steer clear of anything that involves demons or dark spirits and the like, but I'm always on the lookout for signs that angels are near or that the Lord is with me (which He always is, like he's always with you).
Unfortunately, I can't think of any sources or materials off the top of my head that would be good for further research. But maybe there are some other blogs on here that would have some good starting points, or would share their own views, too! You could search by denomination and then put witch after, like "Catholic witch" or Methodist witch", things like that. There are some books about Christian witchcraft, too, but personally I haven't read any of them. I think there might be come Christian witches on YouTube, too.
I hope this post made sense! If you have any other questions, please don't hesitate to ask! 😊
God bless! 🕊
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Infection
Fever, infection, bandage changing, delirium, semiconsciousness, pain medication and dog mention
[Follows Burning Up]
David was dimly aware he had been drugged. His mind couldn’t quite pin down why, but he knew there were pain meds involved. The burning ache in his leg was growing brighter as the minutes (hours? days?) ticked by, the drugs degrading and the pain getting worse.
Except now his brain was to addled with confusion and fever to rationalize why.
He was lying on something soft, something familiar. Something in the air itself was nostalgic. Seeing his little brother look down at him cemented the realization.
He was dreaming. It must have been a bad dream too if his leg still hurt so badly. David couldn’t remember why it hurt. Had Jake hurt him?
His body felt too cold, his breath too hot. His chest ached with every gasp, tears burning across icy skin. He didn’t want to hurt again. He didn’t want Jake to see him hurt. He didn’t want Jake to hurt him. Please. Not this. Not you too.
—
“I think he has a fever.” Jake replaced the damp washcloth over his brother’s forehead, dinner forgotten in spite of the smells wafting from the kitchen.
“They said he probably would.” Mr. Pinkerton took the old washcloth, warm in his hands from the heat it had soaked away from David’s trembling form. “Your mom pitched a fit about not taking him to the hospital but…”
“Yeah.” Jake breathed, not taking his eyes off the rapid shallow rise and fall of his brother’s ribs. His parents had filled in the details. Harrison and Sarah. Former spies. Assassins. Friends of his brother.
His gut twisted at the vague nostalgia of the scene, his brother sleeping fitfully on the couch while their mother made dinner. The smell of alcohol was sharper now, disinfectant tinged with blood as his father changed the bandage around his brother’s leg.
Jake tried to not look at the wound, the sight of the bloodied bandages alone were enough to make him nauseous.
“Definitely infected.” His father sighed, wrapping up the soiled bandages with latex gloves hands.
“You said Harrison called a doctor?”
“His brother-in-law, yes. They’re driving down from the Tetons though so…probably won’t get here ‘til tonight.” His father shrugged, muttering as he left the room to dispose of the medical supplies. “Wish they’d hurry up and get here already.”
It had already been a day, and David was only growing less lucid. The dog whined softly, nudging Jake’s arm and receiving a scratch behind his ears for the welcome distraction. Jake had read the dog’s vest a dozen times, and it still managed to tug a smile to his lips. Of course his brother would name his dog Meowth.
“…pl’ease…” Jake’s eyes snapped to his brother’s trembling lips, slurred and half silent words rolling off hot breath. “…mn - don’t…h…hurt…”
“I know it hurts.” Jake swallowed, voice so soft it hurt to speak. “You’re sick. But you’re going to be okay.”
David only whimpered in reply, shivering under the thick blankets.
[Before Abandoned]
(Part of my Freelancers: Post-Retirement series)
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