Patheos has asked writers to explain in 200 words why they practice their religion.
Had anyone told me I would be a Pagan a day before Midsummer, I would have laughed in disbelief. I was a guest at a Midsummer Sabbat. When it finally started, over two hours late, I was happy mostly because that meant it would eventually end, and I could go home without insulting the person who invited me.
A circle was formed in a glade by participants and guests. The priest walked to its center and invoked the Goddess. She came. Her presence was the most beautiful, loving, and powerful experience I ever had. “Here’s a religion where they ask their God to come and She does,” I thought. She carried a sense of meadows, forests, and nature and somehow seemed more real than me or my day-to-day world. My fascination with power dissolved and never came back as I realized, “With love like this, who needs power?”