Falling in love is rising to love. Why does everyone love rising in love, noticing love, feeling love, being swept up in love? In a secret place within the hearts of all, there is the knowledge that love is their calling. Love calls to them, and love answers itself, and says, "Yes, I am here. I am love, and I am what life is about. Life and I are interchangeable. I, love, am the real thing. Everything else is just the floss of life. Love, although often undercover, is the real gist and grist of life. If only I could find the love in my heart."

When did love become a secret agent? When will love take off its trench coat and stand in its own glory of love? As it is, love combs and uncombs its hair, and practices falling in love with itself, as if love required an object to bring itself out.

Let the love in your heart wheel you around the world where you will find your true heart. Your true heart is not lost. It just has not been quite listened to. It is like you put your heart somewhere and forgot where you put it. Of course, falling in love is falling in love with love. There is nothing else to fall into. Your objects of love are just excuses. You always wanted to pour your love out. You always wanted to wash the windows of the world with your love, that which you call your love, when it is the love of the Universe, when it is My love, and when it is the simple love of angels discovering themselves. Love never wanted to be locked in a cupboard, hidden in a drawer, forgotten about until stumbled across, pulled out only on certain occasions by certain illusions.

Discovering love is discovering who you are. Your true nature is not, I repeat, is not selfishness. Love is not selfish. Love is not pretense. Love leaves selfishness behind. Selfishness is a fraud.

Love is not unwitting. Love is your True Self. Your True Self must come out of hiding. It must stand up for Itself.

Follow your heart. What else is there possibly to follow? Love is worth its weight in gold, and yet love is weightless. We could say that love is the main symptom of God on Earth. I could say symbol, yet love is far more than a symbol. Love brightens and colors the world. Love is a brightener, and, yet, love is never an additive. What craziness is it not to love when you are love itself and can love well when you come off it, when you come off another course?

Why not put your heart out on the table? What have you been putting on the table? What trick have you played on yourself? What have you substituted for love, and when were substitutes ever enough? In the name of love is not quite love. It is not a picture of love you seek. Love is not a picture. Love stays when all else has gone.

Beloveds, if you grieve for love lost, you have possessed love yet known it not. You held something in your hand. You held it tight, and, yet, when you opened your hand, there was nothing there except for dismay, sense of loss, perhaps sense of betrayal because you looked into an unclear mirror. You saw a reflection of yourself in another's eyes, and your reflection in another's eyes faded. You looked for love to come from somewhere else when love has to come from you. Look into your own soul where love resides.

You are a soul. Souls love. You are, despite all the subterfuge, the real thing. You are a shining knight from Heaven. You are My designated lover of all.