WHAT IF WE ARE WRONG?

 A Sacred Call to Unmake the Lie and Restore Eden

There comes a moment in every soul’s journey when the ground beneath what we think we know begins to crack open. It is not an earthquake that destroys us. It is a revelation that liberates us. But this revelation rarely arrives gently. It comes like rain on parched earth, sudden and cleansing, dissolving the hardened clay of our old certainties. It is the voice of the Spirit in the water; the Aboriginal Elder’s sacred metaphor for God, a story I share often. The water asks us to yield. It asks us to flow. It asks us to question the rock of our rigid belief.

What if we are wrong?

This is the most terrifying, humbling, and holy question a human heart can hold. For what if the very core beliefs that shape our actions, our loves, our conflicts, and our hopes were seeded not by the God of Love, but by a malevolent whisper or worse still, by a false story about what really happened in the beginning?

For centuries we have believed that the serpent in the Garden was the tempter, the deceiver, Satan himself. Yet what if there is another telling? An older stream, hidden, carried in the quiet hush of mystics and Gnostics who whispered: What if the serpent was Christ? What if the serpent was not the enemy but the awakener, the luminous one who invited humanity to taste the fruit of Knowing, to open their eyes, to remember the divine spark within?

What if the true lie was not the serpent’s invitation but the story that told us we had fallen because of it? What if the real deception was convincing us that the God of Love would punish us for seeking to know? What if the Tree of Knowing is not a curse but the doorway back to Eden, when we eat from it with reverence, humility, and union with the Source?

We have been told that to question is dangerous. We have been told that doubt is the enemy of faith. And yet the true poison lies not in questioning but in blind certainty, especially certainty born of fear and unhealed wounds. It is not doubt that enslaves us. It is the refusal to look deeper. It is the refusal to soften and listen for the voice beneath the voice, the story beneath the story.

I have come to see how easily the mind is shaped by another’s tongue. How quickly we take another’s word as gospel when our own discernment has been numbed by trauma or the desperate need to belong. I see now how I once clutched tightly to an image of a person, an image fed to me by someone whose patterns, when seen in the full light, are marked by manipulation, narcissism, deceit and a transactional spirit that sees relationships as tools. I did not want to see this at first. It didn’t occur but a recent development has asked me to look at this situation more deeply. It was easier to stay loyal to the narrative I had been given, to my own pride in believing I was discerning when in truth I was under a spell woven by another’s unresolved wounds and unholy agendas.

What if I was wrong?

This question is not self-condemnation. It is the threshold of awakening. To admit we were wrong is to take back the keys to our own mind and heart. It is the sacred act of unbinding. It is a radical act of humility that cracks the prison walls built by arrogance, fear, or blind trust in false authorities.

I believe we are living in an hour when the entire human story is being called to this same threshold. We are living in a time when the old stories are crumbling, the political stories, the religious stories, the cultural stories that have governed how we love, how we fight, how we see the world and each other. Many of these stories were not born from the pure mind of the God of Love but seeded by malevolent forces who prey on fear, shame, guilt, and our longing to find certainty in a chaotic world.

What if the story of the Fall is one of these hijacked stories? What if the exile from Eden was never punishment but a forgetting of our true nature, our divine spark, our original innocence, our creative fire? What if the ‘sin’ was not that we ate, but that we let shame convince us we were separate from God? What if the serpent, the Christic serpent, was calling us to remember the seed of divinity that no religion, no empire, no false priesthood could ever own or control?

This is not an easy idea to hold. It shatters what we thought we knew. It breaks the chains forged by guilt and fear. It opens the gate back into Eden, not as a place we must die to find, but as a consciousness we can return to now. The Garden is within us. The Tree of Life and the Tree of Knowing are not separate, they are branches of the same living mystery.

The Elder told me, “The answers are in the water.” Water does not cling to shape or doctrine. It flows. It seeps into the roots of what is hidden. It reveals. It cleanses. To become water is to allow the living Word, the Christ within, to dissolve the hardened crust of false belief.

A recent situation in my life has been the hammer blow that cracked my own certainty open. Someone I once saw clearly became clouded in my mind through the filter of another’s voice, a voice I see now was not rooted in love but in manipulation and ego. When we hold tightly to another’s account, we surrender our own seeing. We lose the inner compass. We become agents of someone else’s unresolved war.

But the harsh light of truth has no interest in flattering our old wounds. It cuts. It sears. It heals. It shows us where we were deceived not because it wishes to shame us, but because it wishes to free us. When we cling to the story fed to us by another ie; “this person is bad, this person is this, this person is that” we become prison guards for illusions but when we release it and say: “God, show me what I do not see. Show me the truth beyond my understanding,” we step into holy ground.

The truth does not come through ego or vindication. It comes through surrender. It comes through a willingness to be wrong. It comes through compassion for ourselves, for the one we judged, even for the deceiver who played us like a pawn. For what brokenness drives one to manipulate another’s mind and heart if not a deep, unhealed wound?

I am learning now that to evolve is to hold paradox. To stand naked before God and say: “I do not know.” To release the need to be right. To become water, to yield my hardened mind to the living Source. The truth is alive. The truth is not a brick in the wall of a fortress. The truth is a river. It moves, it feeds, it purifies.

In this age of mass deception where media, politics, religion, and even personal relationships can become theatres for hidden agendas we must become radical seekers of truth. Not just outer truth, but the truth that lives beneath the wound, beneath the programming, beneath the generational trauma that made us so easy to manipulate in the first place.

The enemy does not only live out there. The enemy is the voice within that clings to old stories out of fear of what might happen if they fall apart. The enemy is the pride that refuses to admit we may have been deceived. The enemy is the rigidity that dams the river of Spirit and keeps us stagnant in half-truths and suspicion.

What if the problem is me?

This is not self-hate. This is sacred responsibility. The moment we stop blaming ‘them’, whoever ‘they’ are, and look within is the moment we become free. For deception is not possible without our participation. And revelation is not possible without our surrender.

Now is the hour to let go and let God. To become humble enough to say: “Show me where I am still blind. Show me where my wounds have written scripts I call truth. Show me the Eden I still carry within.” For the restoration of Eden is not merely a return to a mythical garden, it is the return to our original design: pure, unashamed, walking with God in the cool of the evening, unafraid to be naked in our truth, unafraid to stand in our light.

This restoration demands that we question everything: the beliefs handed down by wounded ancestors, the doctrines that preach fear instead of love, the judgments we hold against one another, the narratives that keep us divided and suspicious. It demands that we trust the living Spirit more than the letter of any law written by men who too often serve their own kingdoms.

This is not anarchy. This is not chaos. This is divine reordering. For when we let go of the rigid structures of half-truth, we do not dissolve into nihilism. We open ourselves to be guided by the One who is Truth. Not a truth, not my truth or your truth, but THE Truth: the living Word, the Christic Serpent, the hidden fire that calls us to remember.

Beloved, what if we are wrong?

What if the serpent is not our enemy but our secret Christ? What if the call was always to eat, to taste, to awaken, to see as God sees? What if the exile was a story meant to bind us, but the garden was never locked except in our minds?

May we be brave enough to eat again. May we be soft enough to yield. May we be humble enough to say: “I do not know, but I trust the One who does.” May we remember the answers are in the water. God is the water. The serpent coils in the roots of the Tree of Life, whispering: “Taste and see. Know and be free.” The water flows. The water heals. The water makes all things new.

Alleluia. All glory to God.

In Christ

Lady Saffire