You have asked a million times: Why is there life? Why is there all this trouble to go through, and for what?
Blatantly, I say: Life on Earth is so that you may know Me and know your closeness to Me. It is to return to Me in your awareness, even while all this stirring in the relative goes on. It is to know Who you are. It is to know love, under whatever circumstances you find yourself. It is to recognize that you see but a misted mirror.
But this that I say is not enough to satisfy you, is it? It doesn't say enough for you, but, My beloved, it says everything there is to say.
I suppose you could consider Me the eye of the hurricane where silence and stillness reign. In any case, the tumult outside has no real relationship to Me any more than it does to you. It is something that goes on around Us, but it is not Us. We are the core; outside Us is nothing. We are eternal. All the rest is a dream. But your dreams, lovely and unlovely, are very important to you.
Let Me emphasize that there is nothing for you to learn but to reacquaint yourself with the magnificence of love that exists everywhere. Even in what you would call the most loveless place, love is. It can be hidden, stomped on, slashed, burned, forsaken, fired upon, and yet love remains supreme. The truth of love is impenetrable and inescapable. Love cannot be ruined. It cannot be undone. It cannot be altered. It cannot be removed. Love has the last word.
Certainly, drama puts on a good front. The drama of life would have you believe in it more than in love. It would have you believe in love lost rather than love found. It would have you believe in Paradise lost rather than Paradise found. Drama goes to great lengths to prove the existence of loss while it ignores the existence of that which is held to be lost.
The usual title and description of life on earth is Paradise Lost. And yet the existence of Paradise is disputed. No one debates that life on earth does not appear to be Paradise, yet the concept of Paradise is shunted aside like a two-year-old's ramblings, not even given the time of day. Or it is allotted a little time on Sunday, detoured into Sunday for a while.
The world seems to be adamant about declaring the dour while downplaying the true. Perhaps wars are caused, subconsciously, of course, to prove that love is a passing thing while hate reigns in flying colors. War would like to vanquish love once and for all.
Man declares war on God, don't you think?
Man likes a mighty opponent. He wants to be proud of his victory. Victory is associated with destroying. The victor of war comes through bloodied yet he feels he is on top.
And I, God, dare to tell you that love rules, that love is supreme, that love is unending, that love alone is. For how long has man longed to disprove the existence of Heaven on earth, and for how long must he continue to do so. Why has the negative in life seemed mightier than the positive?
For no reason, beloveds, for no reason at all. For excuses alone, for excuses for drama, for excuses for importance, for war wields a sword over peace. War gets more headlines. It certainly gets your attention.
But the end of wars is not the beginning of love, for love was never absent. Love was, seemingly, betrayed, yes, but never overtaken. When all is said and done, love is, and love is all there is. Pay heed to love.