C is for Courage.

Sometimes, I want to give up. I work in Catholic institutions, surrounded by teachers and administrators who all practice and believe with fervor the teachings of the Catholic church. I wake up every morning and see the sunrise, praising Ra for a new day. Sometimes I pause in the coolness of the dawn, letting myself be washed clean in the purifying fire of the new light, praising the gods of the sun and the day. Sometimes, especially as the Eye is at Her farthest, I find myself arriving in the dark, before the sun comes up, and I stand under the stars and the smiling crescent moon and praise the Akhu, and the gods of the night.

And then I walk into work beneath a crucifix; I start the school day with the sign of the cross.

All the while I keep my gods close to my heart – I pray to Djehuty and Seshat that I might instruct my students well; I pray to Bast and to Hethert that I might be compassionate in the classroom; I pray to Sekhmet and Ma’at that I might instill a sense of appropriateness and morality in my students.

This is difficult. I love my job and I love my gods, but doing both without being overwhelmed takes courage – as it must for the countless other people living with their gods quietly concealed.

I am not claiming to be persecuted – far from it. So long as many of us are quiet about Who or What we choose to honor for our existence, we can go on happily in what we do. But that silence can get oppressive; sometimes I know I wonder if it matters what name I call God, and feel that I should turn back to my roots, go back to honoring the Divine as a Christian, or another more mainstream faith. And then against all the silence, I steel myself – I strengthen my resolve to love the gods I worship. Because They love me in return, and because I am courageous, I continue walking my own path.