It was only when a guest asked me about my Mjolnir that I realized it had been 8 months since I first found myself entranced by the tales of the Norse gods and the culture of the people who followed them. I meant, late last year, to simply study the mythology of several ancient cultures for a broader understanding of the practices and gods of others. Somehow, when I got to the Norse, it was as though I couldn’t stop, and I developed an interest a whole lot deeper than I expected!
I’ve asked God (the Christian one) for a sign, for something, a handful of times in my life, typically in my most doubtful moments, only to be met with silence. I was a self-proclaimed atheist, but that didn’t mean that I did not at least wish that there was someone or something out there that was greater, beyond some generic, unknowable notion of a “higher power.” So when I made a small offering of drink to Freyr and lit a candle for him, I didn’t expect too much. I harbored but a drop of hope in a sea of skepticism.
But I believe that he answered me.
Now, I’m not one to put much faith in one-off occurrences, but Thor has since sent me signs as well. The most meaningful, to me, was just a couple nights ago, when I dreamt of carrying the Mjolnir symbol after spending the day pondering whether or not I should get a new, better-quality one to represent my budding belief in the old gods. And what should I wake to but thunder?
I’m not entirely concerned with strict reconstructionist practices, though I think that study of the lore and the culture absolutely has its place. I can’t really bring myself to care whether or not I’m “doing heathenry right” by the standards of other heathens. All I can seem to care about now is that someone heard my prayers.