Jude Priestly Journals, Entry 12

June 12th, Year 2 of the Vow

It’s day three of hardly any sleep and I’m amazed I’m a functioning being.

Nike doesn’t even have insomnia anymore. Somehow, my presence alleviates her stress and what not, which I’m glad about. What’s the saying? “Happy wife, happy life.”

I’m terrible. In the mornings, when she asks me how I’ve slept, I say, “Like a baby.” I know, lying is abominable to God. Scripture says, “Lying lips are abomination to the LORD: but they that deal truly are his delight.” (Proverbs 12:22 KJV) However, I feel immensely guilty about what my absence did to my new bride. Granted, my abduction by Caitlin’s old coven wasn’t my fault either, but if it weren’t for me, the people I care most about wouldn’t have ended up dead or wouldn’t have gone through psychological hell.

Hera’s the true shining light out of all this mess. Like my entire heart is consumed by her existence. I’m not even mad Caitlin was literally a deceiving witch that drugged me in order to conceive her. Of course, we still don’t  really know if she is mine. I won’t let my wife or my mother get a DNA test. I can’t see how she isn’t  my child. She looks like the combination of Caitlin and me. Looking at childhood pictures of my mother, she looks  just like grandma.  

For a two-year-old that doesn’t say much, I swear Hera’s a genius. I’m certain of it. Like you ask her to pick up her toys or go find her shoes, she does it. She transitioned into our house fairly easily. By a miracle, she bonded with me instantly. I was half-freaked out that she liked me so much because of some hex or spell, but when I prayed about it, I got assurance from the Lord that she’s okay and that there are no dark arts behind our bond.

We dedicated her to the Lord, just a few days after we came home to the Lake House. I know a dedication isn’t the same as salvation, but I’m confident that the LORD will look out for Hera simply because I begged He would. Yes, the LORD is sovereign, but He is a good and just God. He’s even more interested in Hera growing in knowledge of Him and dedicating her life to Him than I am, and that’s my top priority.

I was a bit concerned Nike wouldn’t own the motherhood role, but she’s crushing it! 

Nike shouldn’t have to be Hera’s mother, but Caitlin made that choice when she ditched her for good. She left a note.

I didn’t know if Caitlin signed the note believing she was Celeste again or if she did that knowing I was in love with her as Celeste and not Caitlin. Did she leave because I rejected the notion of even attempting to make a relationship work between us?

Nike was against keeping Caitlin a secret. She felt it was wrong to lie to a child about their roots. Normally, I would agree with her but how many kids have literal witches for mothers? Not only that, but mothers that belong to covens that prey on generations of members and harass and threaten the next generation to join the witch order? That very fact was Nike’s motive to raise Hera to know the truth, because more than likely they would attempt to recruit her when she was old enough. Especially, given who she was, as my daughter by blood or adoption, she was eligible to birth the antichrist. As the child of a Vampira Coven Witch and a Modern Nazarite, she was a symbol of the phrase “As above, so below” incarnate, the celebration of darkness and light unified in one being, to reveal all things were connected through the divine consciousness. It is all hogwash, but dark spirits and dark principalities are working through the world religions to set people up to receive the major lie of antichrist one day. 

Honestly, I have no idea what the “end times” entirely entail. I just know, every witch, demoniac, and false prophet I face usually believes in garbage that sounds sinisterly similar and utterly unbiblical.

Truth was and truth remains, the Kingdom of God can only be inherited through salvation in Christ Jesus. This fallen world will never be perfect or some type of utopia through the works of humanity.

There’s debate whether Jesus will come back and set up a literal Millennial-long Kingdom on the earth, I’m inclined to believe it  and that is when the world will be perfect… All animals will get along, children will be born without sin, and we all live in the light and glory of our King Jesus. I mean, how else does one understand Isaiah 11:6-9:

“The wolf shall dwell with the lamb,

    and the leopard shall lie down with the young goat,

and the calf and the lion and the fattened calf together;

    and a little child shall lead them.

The cow and the bear shall graze;

    their young shall lie down together;

    and the lion shall eat straw like the ox.

The nursing child shall play over the hole of the cobra,

    and the weaned child shall put his hand on the adder’s den.

They shall not hurt or destroy

    in all my holy mountain;

for the earth shall be full of the knowledge of the Lord

    as the waters cover the sea.”

Then again, I’m not a theologian. I should probably study the subject more if it’s a belief I hold? I should test to see if my thought about scripture is accurate. Though, could believing about “the end times” put my soul in jeopardy of going to hell? IDK. I don’t care right now.

I’ve been on sabbatical and Nike’s been going on missions. I tried to convince her to take a break, but she insisted she needed to keep working. She’s been a beast too.

She’s basically been tracking and eliminating Annabelle’s dark arts alliance. Everything connected to Annabelle needed to be dissolved to prevent Annabelle’s power and authority being transferred to a successor.

Mother followed up and found Caitlin to make sure she didn’t take Annabelle’s seat as the head of the notorious Vampira Coven, but she assured us Caitlin wasn’t currently involved in any witchcraft.

I’m ready though. I’m ready to start working again. Mother has retired again and volunteered herself to be granny-nanny, which meant Nike and I have more freedom to go on missions. That wasn’t the case for my parents. My father’s parents passed away when he was young and my mother was estranged from her father. I only met him once, and then my grandfather died the following month.

Last night, Nike came home earlier than I expected her to show up. She wasn’t scheduled to return until two nights from today. I was sitting up in bed, with Hera asleep next to me. I was attempting to write this journal entry sooner.

It was clear that Nike wanted to externally express her anger by throwing her duffel bag across the room. I could see the rage in her eyes, but when she noticed Hera asleep, she took a very loud, deep breath in as she set her bag on the floor at the foot of our bed. Inhaling and exhaling heavily, but calculated, she undressed and got ready for bed. Then, with mad, mama ninja skills she picked up Hera, who looked like a sleeping beauty in her floral nightgown, and left the room.

Of course, Nike re-entered our room alone. I know it was wrong of me, but part of me wished she wanted to get down and do the dirty deed. It was fire when she was angry, but that would be selfish of me.

She sat beside me, on her side of the bed. She leaned her head in, resting it on my shoulder, and started crying.

“Do you want to talk about it?” I asked.

“No…” she shuddered.

I dropped my pen, closed my journal, and I leaned back against the headboard pulling her back with me safely in my arms. I let her sob, without probing her about why she was upset.

We fell asleep shortly after.

Breakfast was made by Mother,  PB & J oatmeal with fresh tomatoes and cucumbers on the side mixed with hummus.  I half expected Nike to still be enraged coming down the stairs and into the kitchen, but she was rejuvenated. She looked happier than a stoned hippie. I thought maybe she was doing drugs, but then if a Nazarite can’t drink wine, why would narcotics be okay with God? They wouldn’t be.

My wife gave me a sloppy wet kiss and sat next to me at the bar top island in the kitchen.

“Today, Hera and I are going to the park at the beach and then we’re going to color what we saw at the beach. We’re going to make a day of it. Perhaps, daddy and mommy should have a playdate of their own?” Mother said.

“Mother,” I responded, a little disgusted that she was trying to meddle in my sex life… well, I think that was what my mother was inferring, maybe she wasn’t. Maybe that was just on my mind. Nike and I haven’t been intimate since before my abduction. Mainly, because I was in no condition for that once returning home.

Nike laughed, stuffing a spoonful of oatmeal in her mouth, using my spoon from my serving of hot cereal. I disliked when she stole my food. She knew that. After she hurriedly gulped her bite of my portion, she said, “Mommy is too busy to play with daddy. Stevo messaged me. He’s got a lead on Jenessa. I didn’t lose the trail like I thought. I’m gonna go get her and bring her home to us.”

She leaped off her barstool and kissed me goodbye on the cheek. As she walked behind me to Hera in her highchair, she said,  “Mommy’s gonna go get your shimá yázhí,” patting the toddler on the head. 

“Absolutely not,” I said, scared.

“Hun, relax. I’m bringing back-up. My dad and my sisters are meeting up with me. We’ll be good.” Nike assured me, resting a hand on my shoulder as she gazed directly into my eyes.

Trying to rescue Jenessa last December was just a trap, and everything was devised to abduct me. 


* Edited by Aly Fry


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