What do you get when you cross a Pagan with a….

…well, a Pagan.

I’m Wiccan and my husband is, um, well, he just “is.” He’s 100% Native American and while he doesn’t follow anything strictly, if he did, it would be the traditions and beliefs of his Navajo heritage.

This is generally a good mix for us, especially with the children. The kids participate with me in ritual and sing my Pagan songs (my son’s favorites are “Circle Round” and “Cats, Dogs”). My husband tells them the stories of his people, plays beautiful music on the Native American flute, and tries to teach them to walk “in beauty.” We have a “Night Night Prayer” that we say before bed time, though my pre-teen feels she’s grown a little too old for it. It’s a good combination of both of our beliefs. I have no idea who wrote it, but it was passed on to me via an email and I love it.

“Now I lay me down to rest.

I pray that all the world is blessed.

Lady Moon and Sister Star

Watch over me from afar.

Mother Earth is always there

and keeps me safe within her care.

The Lord of Dreams will dance and sing

and happy dreams will to me bring.

And when I wake to greet the day

Brother Sun will light my way.”

Both of us feel that, for us, this is a much preferred vision to send our children to sleep, rather than something that warns them they may die before they wake up.

But things aren’t always easy. My husband has no clue why I feel the need to light candles all the time. He likes them, just doesn’t know why I “need” them. And I don’t feel the same need to be within sight of mountains. They’re beautiful and I love them, but for the three years that we lived in Louisiana, he felt isolated and cutoff from his source.

All we can do is nod that we recognize this need in each other and be there to support each other.

Our kids are going to grow and find their own paths. Maybe it’ll be one of ours, maybe not. I know many parents in mixed faith relationships who understand this. Many choose to raise their children in one faith or the other, or in no faith, allowing the children to come to their own terms with spirituality.

I take the kids to a Unitarian Universalist church. They see me participating in large Pagan events like Front Range Pagan Pride Day. I like showing them how important it is to me to be part of a larger faith community. And I encourage them to meet and accept the kids of other faiths, to get to know what they know and learn to appreciate all the wonderful things people do to express their faith.

This subject came up in a recent conversation with my niece, who’s son is now about 6 months old. We were discussing having children baptized and she asked if some of the extended family had asked me about having my own baptized. And I remember the discussion with other ladies when we were all going through pregnancy together. I also remember this discussion with adults in the Catholic Church, many of whom had not stepped foot inside a Catholic Church since high school, but who still felt they needed to get their child baptized.

There’s a great deal of pressure on parents to have their children baptized or dedicated into the religion in which they were brought up, or into the religion of some family member. Adult family members, some of whom are perfectly content to allow adult children or siblings, still question why new parents may not choose this rite. Sometimes the pressure is subtle, sometimes not. And I know many new parents who go ahead with a baptism or dedication, if for no other reason than to please an extended family member.

And I’ll admit, I may have been one of those parents at one point. Earlier in my life, during a period when I wasn’t active in any faith, I may have been one of those parents who would have baptized my child just to please family members. But one of the most profound questions I heard from a great priest was to new parents. “Why would you want to commit your child to a faith if you have no intention of raising them in it?”

I think it’s a valid question. It certainly made me think and it’s influenced me in my own married life.

I’ve invited my husband to ritual or to attend the Unitarian Universalist church with me and the kids, but since he’s practically allergic to anything with “church” in it, I know he won’t go. I could try to “make” him go, but why would I try to force him into participating in something in which he doesn’t believe?

In the end, I hope that’s the most important thing we teach our children. We don’t all have the same spiritual needs, but we can support each other in what each of us requires to be spiritually whole.

And isn’t that what we want our kids to be, too?