Gloria:
Dear Almighty Father, I remember that today is Jeannette's birthday, a friend I had in 4th grade. I would be glad if non-essential memories did not crop up, unless it means releasing, and then I can see purpose in it. I have heard that nothing is ever really forgotten.
God:
Everything leaves its imprint.
Gloria:
I would like to remember more of You.
God:
Think more often of Me. Pay attention to Me during the day. Have some kind of system that will trigger thoughts of Me. Every time you go upstairs. Downstairs. Every time you go to the computer or leave it. Every time you put on shoes or take them off, answer the phone, hang up the phone. Every time you open the door, turn on a light, make your bed, unmake it. Turn on the television. Turn it off. Wash dishes. Put them away.
When you write and type My words, remind yourself of Who it is you talk to.
A Course in Miracles, page 479 (following Lesson 350), "What Am I?":
"We are the holy messengers of God who speak for Him, and, carrying His Word to everyone He has sent to us, we learn that it is written in our hearts. And thus our minds are changed about the aim for which we came, and which we seek to serve. We bring glad tidings to the Son of God who thought he suffered. Now is he redeemed. And as he sees the gate of Heaven stand open before him, he will enter in and disappear into the Heart of God."
Gloria:
Dear God, the 365 days of the A Course in Miracles Workbook is almost done. This is my second time through the workbook, and if I remember correctly, it brought me to You, or You to me!
God:
It brought Christ-love to you, opened your heart, and let Me in.
We can say Christ delivered you to Me. And now he brings others and others, and leaves them at My door. And HEAVEN, through the fingers of your hand, will drop people off at My door. You are a chauffeur, Gloria, who drives a busy limousine and knows only one route and one drop-off point.
You are a dove of peace. You drop off olive twigs that signal the shore of My love.
You wave a wand that wafts electrical stars to light the reader's path.
You string out words like kisses, and one leads to another, and another.
You grip the pen like the stem of a flower, and holy sap runs from it.
You are Hansel and Gretel, leaving a trail of bread crumbs that show the way for someone to follow.
My words come from your pen like soap bubbles from a pipe.
My words light the stars at night.
My words stir a memory.
My words make a mark on the door of each who reads.
My words are like strewn grass seed.
My words are like birds migrating in the sky.
My words are like twining ribbons held suspended between Heaven and earth.
My words are a haunting refrain.
My words are the metronome of your heart.
My words are a match to warm frozen fingers.
My words start an engine.
My words are a torrent of rice spilling from its box into a bowl.
My words are water from the faucet.
My words are like little darts aimed at your heart.
My words beckon your heart.
My words fill the gap in your heart.
My words are your heart.
My words are a cascade of confetti from on high.
My words are little arrows that point the way.
My words are marks on your heart.
My words are like eyelashes that surround your eyes.
My words are like sparkles on a lake.
My words are fingers, counting each child.
My words are like the clicks of a meter.
My words are cooling raindrops on your soul.
My words are My words, and they are to be spoken.
My words are sounds in the air.
My words are bookmarks.
My words are the ringing of a bell.
My words fall into your heart.
My words are like a stamp pasted on an envelope.
My words are the Maestro's tap of the baton, signaling to begin.
My words are winnows that swim into the stream of your heart.
My words are like stardust.
My words are like silver around a Christmas tree.
My words are the crown of the tree, the star placed there.
My words are prisms that reflect light.
My words are rockets aimed at your soul.
My words are My thoughts in your head.
My words are electrical impulses.
My words are Morse code.
My words are sweet aromas arising from a fresh bakery.
My words are inviting signs in store windows.
My words kidnap you.
My words swim in your heart.
My words land on you.
My words are flower petals falling from an apple tree.
My words.
You are a result of My word.
You are My words shaped in clay.
You are My words given motion.
You are My words painted.
You are My art.
Gloria to Mother Divine:
Dear Mother Divine, I have been longing for a poem from God, and it came.
Mother Divine:
God has been longing to speak a poem, and you heard it.
Gloria:
Longing seems such a wonderful word. It connotes an ache but with a rope to God.
Mother Divine:
A longing is a repeated desire not yet filled. Now, there is not longing in your heart for God's poem. Now there is longing for you to know God more, and that is God's longing also, that you know Him more.
You want to capture God, and He wants to capture you. It can only be that you are One with God, and God with you. He has said so.
You are God's grapevine. His Will weaves through you. You bear his grapes. You grow to Him. Your grapevineness expresses the heart of God.
There is one longing in the human heart, and it is for God. A child may think he longs for a candy bar or a red fire truck, or you for a laptop computer or ready cash, but it is God alone that you long for.
God has blown a coronet, and you wish to find the Source of the music. And you are a note issued from that horn, and you climb on yourself to find the note that is you played from the coronet of God.
And that is how you find God, tracing that note He played.
And God signals you the way. All the notes He has played pull you to Him.
The notes He has played are your brothers and sisters who are an assemblage of the one note from the coronet of God.
There is no aloneness. There is Oneness with God and all of His creation of which you are a part and the whole. Every story is your own.
Later…
Gloria to God:
Dear Almighty Father, Karen called me this morning, and she worked on me in such magnificent ways. She got back pieces of my soul that I had allowed others to take. She helped me to understand some things. She said that now I have learned all the lessons I came here to learn. She — I say she, but it is You and Mary — said that I have moved up to another vibration. She said my head was a lotus flower. She said this was a very important day for me.
God:
You are flying high, Gloria.
Gloria:
I must admit I feel GOOD. I felt You and Mother Divine with me most of the day. Thank You.
Now, dear Mother Divine, what would you like to tell me?
Mother Divine:
You are like a star hung in the sky between Heaven and earth. You have a point of your star in each camp, and that is how life is lived — touching earth, reaching Heaven.