Devotional Polytheist Meme Question No. 1

A while back, Galina Krasskrova started a meme. I think I might have taken a shot at answering the questions before I got side tracked by life. Because I feel that these are good solid questions to be asked by anyone who is upon a religious or spiritual path, I am going to devote the next several Sunday posts (when I remember to make them) to considering these questions. I invite my readers to do the same on whatever blogs they might have as well. Please, link back to Ms. Krasskrova's blog when you post what question you are considering and, if you're so inclined, slap a link to your post up in the comments on any of my posts along this topic.

Preamble finished, let's get right to the first question of the meme:

What wealth have the divinities brought into your life?

This is a difficult question to answer for me because I am simply at a loss for where to begin. The gods, in their many guises, have been with me virtually all my life. They have given me the very breath that keeps me alive. When I have endured great struggles, they have been at my side keeping the light of hope (however grim that hope was at times) lit in my eyes and a constant source of strength. These answers, however, feel too vague to be satisfactory. If I were pressed to select three incidents that stand out as signs of the benevolence of the gods, I would choose my liberty from an abusive relationship, my completion of college, and my children.

It was a literal act of god (at the time I thought it was the Horned God of Wicca. Now, I am fairly certain it was Freyr himself.) that gave me the impetus to leave an abusive boyfriend that I was with in high school. Prior to the incident, I had been raped by said boyfriend. I had missed my menses for two months. I felt ill and honestly suspected that I was pregnant, though I didn't dare tell my parents this. To this day, my parents do not know of this. I suspect that if they chose to look through this blog, they might be horrified to find this mentioned. It was late February, I was fourteen and scared. I had a vision of a golden haired god wearing a crown that looked like deer antlers (no, not like GoT's crown of Baratheon's line, someday I may sketch it and share). This god sat beside me and told me I was safe and that I was blameless. He then took me into his arms and my sleep deepened.

When I awoke, there was a depression in the mattress beside me, as though someone had lain at my side all night. That day, I bled. To my dying day, I am certain that I had an early term miscarriage. In amongst the material that passed from me was a tiny bright pink thing approximately the size of a pencil eraser. I am dead convinced it was a fetus. With the relief of this event, and some sorrow for I never wanted to miscarry in my life, I broke the relationship off with my boyfriend. Now, not only do I believe that this saved me from all the negative effects that a pregnancy at that age would have been, I am convinced that this also saved my life. For I am sure that if I had stayed with that boyfriend, I would not be alive today. The ability to draw breath and live secure in the welfare of myself and my family is a treasure that all the world can not compare to.

My collegiate career was on the lower side of average. I had reached a point in my senior year where I desperately needed to pass a class I was failing to be able to graduate. My one and only chance to do so was to score a perfect mark on the final exam. I walked into the exam terrified and half convinced that I was going to fail. I sat down to work after saying a small prayer to Dea for help. Half way through the exam, a remarkable hail storm sprung up out of nowhere. I clearly remember the majority of my peers getting up out of their seats to watch the ice falling out of the sky as I desperately tried to remember how to answer a question on differential equations. The storm ended as I finished my final question. The next day, my instructor approached me in complete amazement. I, the student who she had advised to audit the class or drop it because of how poorly they were doing, accomplished the impossible. To this day, I still don't know how I managed to put down the correct answers. The only logical explanation is that Dea guided my hand.

My children were difficult to conceive. I have polycystic ovary syndrome. As a result of this, I had seven miscarriages (including the one that happened when I was fourteen). We had called upon the assistance of modern medicine but there was still difficulty. After three years of trying and a great deal of anxiety, I became pregnant with my eldest son. A year and a half later, I became pregnant with my second son. Both pregnancies were difficult. During the first, I had appendicitis and the second met me with gall bladder problems and severe depression (including psychotic features). Despite these difficulties, I bore two healthy little boys who are now school age and driving me batty. I do not believe that it was by way of medical intervention alone that I was able to conceive my sons. I believe that it was a confluence of medical intervention, magic, and answered prayers.