All the Beautiful Choices One Moment Holds

God said:

All of life as it is lived on Earth is an adjustment. There is a flickering light, and you adjust your eyes. Something else moves, and your eyes follow it. Not one moment of viewed Eternity stays exactly the same, and yet the stillness of Eternity stays the same.

Sometimes it feels to you that you are in a barrel hurtling down the rapids of Niagara Falls. Life bounces you up and down on its knee, so to speak, and you get dizzy.

Other times, life on Earth becomes to you like a stroll in the park.

And then there are also other stirrings in life and within you. Within you are the key words. All is within you. All. Everything. No exceptions. In terms of the perceived reality of Earth Life, certainly it appears outside you as well.

In one sense, you choose to go to a movie. There are many choices of movies to go to, yet you made a choice of this particular movie. Of course, you can get up. You can change your seat, or you can get up and go to another movie theater altogether and sit down there.

Or you are watching TV. You are on one channel and not another. You can switch. And then on the same screen, you will see something else. You can go back and forth. In life, you certainly do go back and forth. You can go up and down. You can go right and left.

Life is sometimes like a package you hold in your hand. You can open it and take it out of the box. You can turn it upside down. You can look at it from many directions. You can feel its heft. You have many choices, beloveds.

In life, often it is easy to feel that you have no choice at all. Always, beloveds, you have the choice to look at life as you will. The same package you can look at in different ways.

I do not mean for you to kid yourself. I mean for you to know yourself and all the beautiful possibilities even one moment holds for you.

You hold a diamond in your hand. Hold it up to the light, and the diamond looks one way. Put the diamond down on the table, and it looks another. Which is the real diamond, beloveds?

When in life you feel you have no choice, you do have choice. You have choice to look further. You have choice to fight, and you have choice to accept, and many choices in between. Even when faced with death, how you see it is up to you. You can see it as devastation, and you can see it as a beautiful journey. When death of your body comes, you will indeed take that beautiful journey, and all the activity on life will recede like little waves on a lake.

Human beings have choices. And the choices are unlimited. Life is a huge department store with many floors and many wares. You may not remember how you got there, yet somehow you are in this vast department store. You can look at everything. You can buy what you choose. And if you cannot buy something, you can look at it and turn it over in your hands. And if you buy many things and do not have the arm's breadth to carry them, you can leave your purchases there, and come back or not come back, and what is the difference whether you carry the bundles with you or leave them behind to pick up or not pick up? You went through the department store. Within the store are departments. Where are you right now, beloveds?

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The Beautiful choices or cage?

Darling Gloria please forgive an old man a poem to express what he goes through when reading beautiful Heaven Letters.

SHADOWS ON A WALL

Some are born to sing
some are born singing.

It is true that cages mute the song,
the melody become a mockery,

A strangled cry, to know the reasons why
becomes Reason's capitulation
at the shrine of pains too deep to see their awesome grip.

Is it bad then to fear the Cage?
Surprised when the melody,
muted soft, burns low
at thoughts of mindless Cage of life.

Oh worse, much worse;
The Mind caged in tangled thoughts,
By love's, dear dreams gone sour;
Not from lack of dreaming,
but from drifting, aimless, lost in primal places
Black as night, in loveless, endless frightened flight,
like child thoughts, half forgotten
Engraved in flaming tears upon an inner wall,
Unseen, but never out of sight.

How can the SONG that I was born to sing
flow out in widening circles true
not die when CAGED, or crushed,
or Worse, much worse,
Set out upon some mindless quest
All structured sweet, what others think?

No light upon that street; Perhaps a cage is better;
unless, of course, the melody returns, unbidden.

A lightening flash, not hidden,
that makes the Singer know when the Cage gives way
and freedom pours its light and power
through that empty grave. And now I know the cage was not a grave;
A cave with shadows on a wall with writing very small
Deeply etched in pain:

"I love you, my Wounded ones, it doesn't hurt,
It kills not but makes you very small.

So take a step, and if you fall
My Hand will lift you up,
Your searching heart has heard My Call:
"It was for freedom that I set you free!"

George playing with words he loves

George, your word play is

George, your word play is profound. It brings quiet to my mind. It's like you've created images that go beyond the words. Gracias!

"George your word play..."

Dearest Heaven Admin:

You are always welcome to play with me in God' Sandbox, or perhaps it's the Grand Canyon. It's hard to tell at this age. Love you much

George "your it!, I tagged you."

Beautiful!

Dearest George,
I just wanted to let you know how touching your words are. They describe the deepest shadow places we have all been to. Fortunately this story has a happy and triumphant ending, all Glory be to GOD!

Love and blessing, Johanne

Johanne reflecting love's mystery

My sweet Canadian friend:

Standing but five feet away I stood helpless and watched my five dearest friends burn to death.
I stood and watched in horror as a group of my buddies were drenched in aviation fuel, my job was to help them accept the end of the divine script of their short but precious lives.
The song that rises in my heart simply mirrors the massive love of HIS mighty hand stroking my shattered dreams until their divine purpose makes it's way into my very old, very dreamy, very alone, possessed heart. HIS joy becomes my toy, HIS song squawks is beautiful melody through vocal cords made old and gentle by crying, not for me but for those who can not see the HOW to be. I loved your words.

George spellbound by God's love

 

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