How glorious is the world I have made, and how glorious are you! I do not like to brag or anything, yet I cannot but help to sing the praises of My creation. Do you realize what I have created?
Think of a smile. Now, I ask you, who could have dreamed of a smile except for Me? Do you realize all the ramifications? How can appreciation of joy and humankind be tied to the muscles around the face, and yet they are, and yet it is so.
Who could have thought of lips and tongue and teeth and throat and nasal cavities and lungs through which speech comes? Who could have thought of speech, and yet I did.
Who could have thought of fingers and thumb, and all the magnificence they could do together? Who could have thought of the grace of one little finger? Little did I know that fingers would also be a place upon which to place rings of love.
Who could have thought of the bones in your foot, and all they would carry so well over so many years? Are not your feet to be admired?
Who could have thought of a nose and all the breaths it would inhale and exhale? Who could have executed a nose so perfectly?
I did not exactly execute, however, beloveds. I called into Being. I create the same way you do. I desire, and then the fulfillment of My desires arises and presents itself. Creation isn't thinking and planning, beloveds. Creation is a desire that comes to pass. It is not made step by step. You know what the creative process is like. It is inspired! Something triggers it. Desire and imagination trigger it. Even when you work hard at it, at first it was a seed of an idea.
Before he paints, an original artist does not know exactly what his created painting will look like. He has a yearning in his heart. He may know he is going to paint a sunset or sunrise, and yet the painting appears before him just the way a rose blooms. The artist has passion, he has focus, and he applies himself or herself, and yet the work of art creates itself. The artist's creation creates itself.
A seed is planted, and from that a baby grows. You do not figure out each limb and facial structure. Nature grows the baby in all its perfection. You did not really create the baby. You were an onlooker of creation. Take pride in all My creation as you do in the birth of your baby. Know how I create. I plant a seed of thought, and from that humble desire grows a universe to My liking.
When all is said and done, beloveds, you are an onlooker to creation. When you look at the artist's created work of art, the creation of it is renewed in your heart. You realize the work of art pretty much as the artist himself or herself did. You see the finished product, and yet you see beneath it perhaps all the way to the artist's soul.
When you look at the creation I made for you and made you of, will you see Me?
Will you see Me in every expression of it, in every color, tone, note, in every combination possible? Will you catch a glimpse of Me even in the pavement your feet walk on? Even in the sound of a horn honking? Surely you will catch a glimpse of Me in the day and night skies, in the sun and the moon, and in the breeze that blows. Through every medium, I am whispering to you. Tell Me what I whisper to you in bright light and in dim. Tell Me what My heart says to you through every inch of this beautiful creation I have poured out for you. Tell Me you love Me and My creation.