There seems little point in practicing magic unless you want to do at least a few extraordinary things with this incarnation. Peter J Carroll, The Octavo

Inimicus Dei Constituitur

I've been talking to god lately. I told Her that I was sorry that I didn't do it as often as I once did, but that I wasn't one of those people who only do it when they want something (even though this was one of those times). And I told Her that I missed Her in my life; that those times when I needed Her and I felt Her wings wrapped about me in comfort represented all the faith that I would ever need.

After a very little while, She told me that She knew I wasn't one of those people who only called Her Name when I wanted something. And She wondered why I said I missed Her in my life. Comfort in times of trial was not Her only gift. Was not the love I felt in my heart also Her Gift?

She said that the love I felt was not only Her gift, but a song in honor of Her Name. And that everything I did with that love in my heart was a ritual to Her: every verse I wrote, every smile upon my face, every act of devotion, each embrace and every kiss, every caress in the dark.

So I promised Her that I would tend that sacred flame of love in my heart, that I would remember that She was with me in times of trial and of joy, and even unto death.