The Deep Pain of Being Called Faithless
What I have especially noticed over the past few days is that the energetic frequency has been extremely high. It feels as if the Earth’s frequency has increased many times over during the Pentecost days. I have actually noticed over the past few years that these days around Pentecost carry a very bright and heightened energy. This high frequency often brings excitement, joy, and love, but it also creates tension, irritation, and anger. In fact, it has been a long time since I experienced as much anger as I felt inside myself yesterday.
It is often family and close friends who manage to touch those deep threads connected to anger. I have Mars in Taurus in retrograde, so one of the lessons of this lifetime for me has been learning how to express anger, whether it is old, suppressed anger or sudden bursts of emotion that arise in the moment. Mars is currently in Taurus, so perhaps I am extra sensitive to feelings of anger right now.
This weekend I felt that my daughter pushed me all the way to the boiling point when she asked me one evening, just as I walked into her kitchen, how things worked for atheists and how my funeral arrangements should be handled. What she meant was that I was faithless in her thinking because I had removed myself from the National Church at one point in my life. What she did not know was that I had recently registered again, simply to make things easier for the loved ones who would eventually have to take care of my funeral arrangements.
Yes, of course I am now 67 years old, although no one truly knows who will leave before whom. I felt how deeply her words hurt me, and I felt the pain moving deep within the energy of my body. Usually, I do not really care what people think about the fact that I was not part of the church, but clearly I did care about being called atheist or at least I did in that moment.
I traced this deep pain directly back to the words of my mother, who endlessly judged me for following the path I have taken in healing and spiritual channeling. It was often very painful to feel the rejection I experienced from her during the last years of our relationship before she passed away in 2014. She built emotional and energetic walls between us and kept me at a certain distance. Even though we could talk about everyday things, the connection never truly reached any depth after I began walking my spiritual path.
People often speak about someone being “very religious,” and usually they mean people who belong to the church, while those outside it are less often seen that way, even if they practice their faith or spiritual beliefs in their own way through prayer, meditation, inner searching, and exploring other spiritual traditions.
As a child, I learned prayers from my mother and faithfully said my prayers every night. In my simple childlike way, I believed that God and Jesus listened to my prayers. At first, I was not praying for anything special. I simply repeated the prayers I had learned, almost like a parrot. Yet I always felt safe afterward, filled with comfort and security. Something happened inside me, a certain knowing, a certain peace that settled over me.
There were not many church services in the little country church that I attended with my family as a child, but I listened to the priest´s words, and I remember always looking at the image of Jesus on the altar while he spoke. Perhaps I looked at it more than I listened to him because I longed to understand. During those moments, while the priest was speaking, I turned inward. My young mind wandered in circles, reflecting deeply on God and Jesus, and wondering why we needed to go to church to listen to a priest I barely understood when it was possible to pray at home and feel certain that someone was listening.
I learned to trust prayer through my mother. I could see and feel how completely she trusted herself. Later, after spending several years at a boarding school during the winters with fifty other children, I began noticing how much more difficult life was for some children than for others. That realization led me to look beyond the box I had been given in matters of faith.
When I was thirteen years old, I suddenly told my mother that I was convinced we did not only have this one life, but that we are born again and again, because otherwise life would not be fair. She immediately became stern and asked where I had gotten such heretical ideas. I remember feeling shocked and confused because I could not understand why she could not see it the way I did. From that moment on, our conversations about such things ended, and I kept those thoughts to myself.
Still, I continued my childhood faith. I prayed and asked Jesus and God to help me with different things. Many times, after praying and letting go, I knew with certainty that everything would be all right. A deep peace and calm would come over me, and I would simply know that things would work out perfectly.
Sometimes I asked God, or whatever I called God at the time, direct questions, and the answers would come either through dreams or in waking life. As I continued along my spiritual path, I discovered that there were many spiritual masters besides Jesus. I explored other religions and realized that most of them speak about the same truths, the same wisdom, the same morality, and the same depth regarding how we treat one another and examine our own behavior.
Countless times in my life I have prayed and witnessed how prayer works. I often speak directly to God, Mary, Jesus, the archangels, and the helpers of the light who walk beside me. It would take far too long to describe everything I have experienced throughout my life that has given me certainty that something greater exists, something that can help and support us if we ask for it. I have witnessed countless miracles, or things that cannot truly be explained except by the presence of a force of Light that entered, healed, transformed, and restored.
I know that a higher power exists, and I have seen many times how it works. There are countless ways in which higher beings or spiritual forces bring our prayers into physical reality.
Yes, this has become a long reflection, but I felt the need to explain that I do not only believe. I know through my experiences and what I have personally witnessed. I believe I have given much love and kindness to others throughout my life, but I am also far from perfect. I too have become angry and disappointed others, as we all do.
So why can I be called atheists. Is it simply because I do not regularly attend church and listen to a priest interpret spiritual teachings? Where exactly does my lack of faith lie?
Who is atheists, and who is faithful? Is there some special formula for being considered spiritual or religious? And why does this old conditioning still exist, the belief that those within the church are somehow more faithful and therefore more worthy than others? Is this simply my ego being hurt because I feel diminished for not being considered “religious” according to tradition?
And why is this pain still so deep within me?
I am simply placing these questions out into the open — for myself, and perhaps also for others who may be carrying similar reflections within themselves.
These past few days have been energetically intense. It feels as though everything becomes amplified in this light, both the light and the shadows within us. The joy, love, and connection have been strong, but so too has whatever still remains unresolved beneath the surface.
After the anger had moved through me, I realized that beneath it lay an old sorrow, the pain of not being allowed to fully be myself without judgment.
Perhaps the pain does not truly lie in what others think of me, but rather in old wounds that still long for recognition and acceptance from my mother.
