The other day I went to hear my friend, who is a pastor at one of the local Christian churches, speak. I am not religious, but as I’ve said before, my abilities help me to make strange bedfellows. My pastor friend is a great man. He is caring and thoughtful. His wife is equally beautiful and caring. I enjoy spending time with them. They try and understand my gifts, but they are skeptical and unsure. Empaths were not mentioned in the bible.
My friends are patient with trying to understand my view that I have had multiple past lives. They are uncomfortable with the idea that I have actual memories of these past lives, but they listen and try not to think that I am deluded. I don’t need anyone to believe me, so it works beautifully. On the flip side, I try and understand there often intolerant views and listen as they explain their ideas of a being called Satan and a place called hell and the Book of Life. They don’t need me to believe them, so again, we work.
But as I was listening to my friend’s sermon, I started to feel very uncomfortable, He was dealing with a passage from the bible that talked about God’s feelings for sinners. The metaphor was that God viewed sinners as a Shepard sees a lost sheep in his flock. He will work tirelessly to find and retrieve this sheep because it is so valuable to him. All of the obedient and present sheep matter very little when one sheep has migrated from the pack. The parable continues with a woman’s search for a lost coin. Again, this woman will search endlessly to find this precious commodity, and in the end, both parties will rejoice. He then preceded to talk about sin, and how each person was a sinner, and we are all born with sin on our plates. That even the tiniest newborn baby is a sinner. This is where my heart dropped. It was not only my heart, but also the hearts of many of the congregation. “This is not a very popular view,” he continued, “but it is true.”
I could not disagree more. This is not what babies and children feel like to me. This is not what many elderly people feel like to me. This is not what many mentally challenged people feel like to me. When I hold a baby, the baby feels like pure light. There is nothing but an illuminated river of light coursing through them. They are different than older children because their light is not muddled by thought. I have found that it is thought that muddies the water of our soul, not only sin. And “sin” or the sins that I have heard defined by my friend do not blacken the soul unless they are of a certain caliber. Even the most meaningful of lies done out of a feeling that many would describe as love can cause a darkening of your soul. But even this darkening isn’t bad and can be remedied by awareness and does not need to be forgiven by anyone but yourself. It is a step in your development if you allow it to be.
Truthfully, I try not to break down my own ideas too much because I believe that when I do that, I am setting a series of standards that may or may not be true based on the situation. I also feel like people want and need standards and guidelines and limits, but there are very few if any absolutes, so I go by how it feels, not in my mind but in the true part of me.
And just to “test” my feelings about babies, I tuned in on a little five month old baby as I rode on the trolley yesterday. Within seconds I felt her little light. This one was pure and also quite calm. Her light danced in my chest for a minute and then left. Yep, it feels right.