Why I Don’t Read My Horoscope Anymore: Walking by Faith, Not by Signs

About two years ago, I found myself intrigued by a tarot reading on YouTube. The reader, calm and collected, mentioned the Death card repeatedly. At first, I was spooked—why was this card showing up so much? It wasn’t the first time I’d heard the term “Death” in the spiritual world, but something about hearing it so frequently triggered a deep curiosity within me.

The timing felt off. I was still in the midst of grieving—still processing the loss of people I held so close, people taken from me unexpectedly. Hearing “Death” so many times wasn’t just uncomfortable—it felt like the universe was throwing me a curveball I didn’t want. I had already been navigating the pain of loss; I wasn’t ready for any more of it. So, naturally, I turned to Google. I needed to know: What does the Bible say about divination? Surely there had to be a clear answer. I stumbled upon Acts 16, a story about Paul and Silas encountering a woman with the spirit of divination.

The scripture reads:

"Once when we were going to the place of prayer, we were met by a female slave who had a spirit by which she predicted the future. She earned a great deal of money for her owners by fortune-telling. She followed Paul and the rest of us, shouting, 'These men are servants of the Most High God, who are telling you the way to be saved.' She kept this up for many days. Finally, Paul became so annoyed that he turned around and said to the spirit, 'In the name of Jesus Christ I command you to come out of her!' At that moment the spirit left her." (Acts 16:16-18)

As I read through the scripture, I was struck by a question: Why did Paul get so aggravated with the woman? After all, she wasn’t lying when she spoke the truth about Paul’s mission to spread the gospel. She wasn’t wrong in what she said. So, what was the issue?

I decided to call my uncle, someone I often talk to about esoteric matters. He didn’t have a clear answer for the aggravation Paul felt, but he told me something important: Pray about it. He assured me that God would lead me to the answer I was looking for.

In that moment, I realized I needed more clarity. The answers I was searching for weren’t going to come from an online search alone. I decided that I was going to church the next morning, trusting that I could get some real prayer and guidance. And let me tell you, it felt like something beyond my own will. Despite the fact that I had been out drinking and partying the night before, I woke up on time—no alarm needed.

I checked the church’s Facebook page to confirm the service time, and that’s when I saw it: “Join us as Pastor continues his series in Acts. Acts 16:16.” I froze. Acts 16 looked familiar, but it hadn’t hit me yet. I went to church, feeling the weight of the moment. As I walked into the sanctuary, I couldn’t help but notice the worship song that was playing—it was the same one I had been listening to in my car on the way there. My mind raced. If this man preaches on that scripture...

And sure enough, Pastor opened up with Acts 16. “Paul and Silas were met with a girl with the spirit of divination...”

But then the pastor said something that hit me like a ton of bricks: “I’m telling anyone here who is into horoscopes, tarot cards, etc... the devil will never tell you something good.”

I was emotional. It wasn’t just about the message—it was about the overwhelming realization of God’s presence in my life. We often hear the phrase, "Once you're His, you're His forever." And that’s exactly how I felt. No matter how far I may have drifted, He cared enough to not let me stay astray. His sheep know His voice—and that voice is my intuition. In that moment, I understood that God had been guiding me all along, even when I didn’t have the answers. Even when I felt lost, His voice was always there.

But even after this revelation, I didn’t immediately throw the cards away. A few weeks later, my grandfather stopped by, and I happened to be shuffling some tarot cards. My grandfather, being from Louisiana, had always expressed his strong distaste for the occult—specifically the voodoo and mysticism associated with New Orleans. He looked at the cards and said, “Hellll na.” I told him about my experience, how I’d been reading Acts 16, and my search for answers.

He paused, looked at me, and asked, “Can I ask you something? Why do you still have the cards then?”

It was a question that, deep down, I already knew the answer to. I was taking a break, going to get closer to God, and still expected to go back to the cards. I thought my intentions were pure, but I couldn’t put that into words in a way that would make sense to him, or even to myself.

And as I felt the frustration bubbling up inside me, I realized something: I was aggravated by his question the same way Paul had been aggravated with the woman in Acts 16. It was like a spiritual trigger—something didn’t sit right. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but I knew. The cards had a hold on me, and it was more than I cared to admit.

So, I did what I knew I had to do. I threw the cards away. It wasn’t just about the cards anymore—it was about the spiritual clarity that came with letting go.

Fast forward to today, and astrology, horoscopes, and tarot are more mainstream than ever. It seems like everyone’s getting into it, and while part of me still struggles with the idea, something deeper within me has started to click. I can’t ignore the fact that I am indeed claircognizant. I just know things. It’s not a guess or a hunch—it’s like I’ve always had this quiet, knowing voice that tells me what’s coming next or gives me insight into situations, sometimes before they even unfold.

For instance, I have dreams that feel foretelling. Dreams that sometimes make sense after I wake up, as if they’re connected to my waking reality in a way I can't always explain. But more recently, there have been moments that have made me stop and think: Is this just intuition? Or is this something more?

Last night, for example, I found myself writing a prayer, feeling the weight of my thoughts and worries. I decided to shift my focus to finding a comforting scripture—something that would speak to me in that moment. And then, something happened. It wasn’t a loud voice or a physical presence, but I heard something in my mind say, “This page right here...” I flipped to the page, my eyes falling on the corner, where it read: 2 Samuel 13th Chapter, 14th Verse. The verse was perfectly aligned with the prayer I had just written. And to top it off, the numbers 234, which I’ve always seen as a sign of guidance and protection, stared back at me.

I couldn’t help but be struck by the fact that the verse was 2 Samuel 14:14, which, oddly, mirrored the double-number symbolism of Acts 16:16—two seemingly different scriptures, yet their numbers felt like a divine connection. As I read, it said:

"Like water spilled on the ground, which cannot be recovered, so we must die. But that is not what God desires; rather, he devises ways so that a banished person does not remain banished from him."

It immediately resonated with me because my prayer had been about death—about the trauma I still carry from losing people I love, people I never imagined would be gone so soon. I had been asking God not to take anyone else, not for a while, at least. And yet, in that moment, I felt as though God was reassuring me that even in death, His desire is not for us to be separated from Him forever.

But it wasn’t just my prayer that made this verse hit differently—it was also a reminder of that church experience two years ago. The way Acts 16:16 had been pressing on me back then, nudging me to step away from what once held me, felt eerily similar to this moment. It was as if God was once again finding a way to pull me closer, to remind me that His voice had been guiding me all along.

I couldn’t shake the feeling that something supernatural was at work. It was like God was communicating with me through my intuition, aligning perfectly with my faith. My grandfather always reminds me: My sheep know My voice. He speaks to His children—not just through scripture, but through an inner knowing. This wasn’t about tarot cards or astrology anymore. It was about the presence of God guiding me in ways that transcend any worldly tool.

This realization isn’t just freeing—it’s power. I don’t need cards or horoscopes to hear God. I never did. His voice was in me all along, woven into my intuition, guiding me just as my faith always has. And that? That’s a connection no deck of cards could ever replace.

Xoxo,

Marshay