Accepting Full Responsibility with Self-Compassion

The Word of God—supposedly the only words God ever spoke to humanity were written in one book, the most recent being somewhere around 2000 years ago. When did The Bible become synonymous with the only word of God? Somehow that doesn’t make much sense to me anymore. At one time it did—back before I’d read the whole thing through and before I’d delved further into the history surrounding the times the passages and letters were written and who wrote them, before I knew how to use a concordance. Before I started a personal relationship with God myself. Before I daringly read books others called all kinds of heretical names in order to discourage me from finding my own answers my own way.

Once I started having my own relationship with my source of life, no one else’s words could compare or compete with the unconditional love, infinite compassion, gratitude, celebration and ease and comfort and true grace I found with the God who loved me—all of me, humanity and Creation. And He/She was right here inside me, ever present, though I went through much of my life thinking I was separated from that Most Loving Parent. Funny thing—the Bible has all kinds of stories that tell that very tale: The Song of Solomon, for one. The groom searches all over outside of himself for his beloved bride (his feminine divine self that completes his masculine divine self) only to discover she was always there within him the entire time. It's all over the place in the New Testament—God’s omnipresence was one of Jesus’s basic teachings, from what I’ve read.

I listen to the conversations going on around me and I hear scriptures from that "Holy Printed Word of God" being used in the most unloving, cruelly vicious ways. We all know how words can be twisted—and I have to say, that is probably one of the most perverted things I’ve seen done. God’s House should be a place of comfort, mercy, compassion and grace—and always LOVE. I don’t see it filled with human judges or a god or other entity that judges, period.

Yes, I do love the scriptures. I love Jesus reminding me, "Judge not, lest you be judged the same way." I’ve found that to be personally true. I’ve found that ignorantly casting a stone at someone without getting to know them or imagining myself in their shoes is going to end with me being the one conked in the head with the rock when it’s all said and done.

I’ve also discovered that the answers I find in me are meant for me only, my way is only my way—not intended for anyone else, not to be forced upon anyone else. If God isn’t forcing His Way upon me, well, doesn’t that mean maybe it might be a good idea to follow His/Her example? Good Parenting 101.

I just realized recently that I’m not seeking to be the shepherd of a bunch of sheep—way too much responsibility—and I don’t want to force someone in a direction they don’t want to go. I’d rather empower them in their own ability to discover their own answers and ways within themselves, totally free of charge. The only cost is that each of us must be willing to accept the consequences of the choices we each make—and sometimes the consequences can be wonderful and sometimes they can be painful. But, really, isn’t that part of the package of life experienced fully?

Recently I’ve been the reluctant recipient of forwarded petitions that I can only see as "hate mail." Seems the latest conspiracy is that homosexuals are taking over the world. The only thing is, so much of this is coming from people who consider themselves Christians—and I can only liken them to the Crusaders, the ones with a really bloody history of killing off "lesser non-believers" all in the Name of God. Gee, who else in this current world of ours is committing atrocities in the Name of God? Is one set more right than the other?—both supposedly have God on "their side."

And here’s the kicker in this whole story—I was once a stone-throwing homophobe, too. Back when the news media had the population convinced that AIDS was a homosexual disease, back when I didn’t know anyone of that persuasion personally, and back when I hadn’t truly allowed to let myself consider the subject on my own. I used to tell gay jokes, too.

But I did have a teacher who planted a seed when some classmates were in the midst of playing a spoof about being gay while in one of his classes. He told us the story of a guy he knew in college who realized he was gay. The man was so ashamed of himself and so distraught that he committed suicide. The teacher, who I respected deeply, told this story with compassion and no judgment. And while I went on several more years with my prejudices, that story stayed with me. My ego didn’t like it when my heart kept reminding me of it. After all, didn’t someone tell me that The Bible (God’s Word) said that was wrong?

About a decade later my soon-to-be husband and I were graciously given a temporary home in Minneapolis by a friend of his (and his partner) from college. I found those two men to be some of the most encouragingly supportive people in our lives at that time. We occasionally touch base through the years with my husband’s college friend, and when we do, I walk away lighter of heart. It’s always an uplifting conversation with him.

One other thing that has since come to mind is that I’ve realized that in my own relationship with my husband, sex is only one small aspect of our relationship—there is so much more to the two of us together. And we all see how our human sexuality has been misused and abused through the media—we’ve all heard the phrase "sex sells." Well, I’m inclined to consider that the relationship between a same-sex couple may be a great deal more than just sexual, too, especially if they’ve been together for awhile. I recently saw two men who had been together for 37 years—to me, that means there has to be much more than sex involved.

As the years passed, other friends and loved ones have come forth sharing their personal secrets. I have a friend (a cousin, actually) who is the son of a Christian minister/missionary—I can’t imagine any human LESS likely to just decide he’s going to "try out the homosexual thing just for the hell of it." What human would consciously choose to be gay (not that there is anything wrong in being so) when coming out meant that he might lose the family--blood and church family--he had? Not only that, but according to some—he’d also lose that personal relationship with God unless he denied what he knew deep inside. What kind of god would enjoy seeing one suffer in misery that way?

I can only imagine how that felt to play at being someone I knew I wasn’t inside, trying to be, and do, the "right" thing—only to have it all blow apart.

Oh wait—I DID have that happen to me! Yes, my story took a different tour—my sexual orientation wasn’t the story—but I, too, played at being someone I wasn’t, all in an attempt to keep from being rejected by those I loved and respected. And that wasn’t pretty either—it all looked a bit messy for awhile and sometimes I felt like a blind, cornered creature just attacking and lashing out at whoever and whatever came close to me. And in the end, I had to come out of my own boxy little closet—and I had to let go of some suggestions made by others outside of me that no longer resonated as truth. I had to be my authentic self—a really good thing, come to find out.

And yes, it’s scary to consider that those past choices I’d made and followed as my truth turned out to be hurtful to others—and yes, I’ve felt the guilt and the shame because of that.

But in that process, I discovered the importance of practicing self-compassion that enables me to accept responsibility for all of my life’s experiences and perceptions in a way that turns that personal shame into celebration and gratitude for the wisdom gained.

I could use my story to accuse and shame another (which is likely to earn me a stone to the head) but I choose instead to share it to show that we can always change our minds--our choices--if we don’t like their consequences. And we can do so with self-compassion and appreciation of that one inside us who played that "dark, ignorant" role that lovingly gave us the personal experience that has so much more value and oomph to it than any words preached at us by another. And the scraped up knees and elbows that I acquire along the way do heal up.

And honestly—I choose to do no harm—to anyone. Creating intentional harm ultimately hurts me, because everything that goes out from me (that which is spoken or done) always finds its way back to its originator--me. And that is how it should be—for that includes the intentional kindness and compassion that goes forth from me, as well.

Don't be afraid to let go of suggested truths that don't feel appropriate anymore that you've maybe accepted and held as your own for a good portion of your life. Once again--truth changes and evolves along with an open and expanded awareness. You never really did anything wrong. Your conscious awareness was just limited--you can't play the human game and not have had that happen.

When we share with one another our own stories of personal guilts and shames, and how our perspectives change, and how we decide to simply let old ideas and stories go--we create a safe and sacred space in our world for others to allow the same thing for themselves. That goes so much further with me than any finger-pointing lectures.

P.S. Below is a link to a 16-minute YouTube video with Adamus Saint-Germain talking about the 13th Strand in our DNA, not visible to science yet. It's the one with a balanced Divine Masculine and Divine Feminine--both of which are found in every single one of us humans, regardless of gender. We have a split brain--right and left hemispheres. The right corresponds to the feminine and the left to the masculine. It makes sense to me, and maybe it will to those who read my stuff.

LGBTQ + Origins and Challenges