Barbara to Gloria:
Thank you for giving Heaven to me everyday.
God:
That is beautiful, dear Barbara. Post that on your refrigerator. Say that every morning as you wake up.
Only address it to Me, for it is I Who gives you Heaven, whether in writing or in life.
Post: "Dear God, thank You for giving Heaven to me everyday."
That is precisely what I do. I give you Heaven every day.
Thank you for acknowledging daily my gift of Heaven. I put it in your lap. Notice it next time you get up.
Gloria:
If only we did.
God:
All you have to do is remind yourself. That is how it is done.
Gloria:
Thank You.
Dear God, Nancy's question made me think of my own father. It was very different. I always felt that I was my father's favorite. But I think all of his children felt that way, and that is a tribute to my father's love, that he could do that.
I was not aware of any of us feeling jealous. But now, just as I said that, I think my brother and sister may have been jealous of me, but I don't know that it was due to my father's love that they were.
God:
It was your innocence.
Gloria:
I knew I had great love expressed for and from my father, and yet I have that same yearning as Nancy.
God:
You did. You don't anymore. Catch up to yourself. Let old pictures go.
Gloria:
Why is our childhood so vital to us now? So precious and often so devastating? Kerry brought up the arrival of recurring sadness during the holidays; that is something I don't like to face, but I find myself thinking of my mother's cooking and all of us at the dining-room table for Thanksgiving, and I cry. I'm the only one left, and I miss everyone terribly.
I have to confess that I didn't know it was all so precious at the time, dear God.
God:
Who said sadness was bad and that it should be pushed away?
You know by now that tears are purifying.
Do you object to being purified?
Accept it as a part of your life.
Tears will come, and you will find something to latch your tears to. It doesn't matter what.
The truth is that tears will come to you, Gloria, and you can be glad for them. Let them come. Consider times of weeping as prime times. Special occasions for saying, "So long," once again. It is not that you hold on to them. You say, "Goodbye."
But you do know whom you really say goodbye to, don't you?
It is yourself. Your old self. The self you once thought you were. You once thought you were young, and now you think you are old. And none of that is true, Gloria. You know now what is true. So what you mourn for is fiction! A sad story you made up. A novel you read. A movie you saw. A scene at a dining-room table. Art in life. A beautiful painting. A composition. The passing of the concept named time. Only a concept. Let the concept of time pass by you like time itself.
My beloveds do not change. The depth of your love for Me has grown, and that is the only change there is. And that is no change. Only a chart of your love changes. Not the love itself. Recognition of the love becomes clearer, and that is called change.
Mark it down. You are complete.
Gloria:
I have this image in my mind of when people die that they say to themselves: "Is that all? That's it?"
God:
But, Gloria, that is how you see the ending of everything! Better to look at beginnings, not endings. Will you do that?
Gloria:
Yes.
Dear God, you mentioned fiction. I have such a need for stories. The other day I watched Pride and Prejudice. It was so well done, and such a great story. I seem to crave stories.
God:
You are a romantic.
And you like to turn pages.
You like wondering what is coming next.
Stories are juicier to you than life.
You like plot.
You like characterization.
You love life, and you haven't quite grasped that fact yet. You think you like the recounting of life more.
In fiction, there is a certain control, a necessary ordering of events. Things are neatly tied. And there is an ending, so you can start anew with another story.
Start anew with your own life.
Picture a beautiful notebook. Its pages glow. It looks rather like an accordion. Place pictures and chapter titles there. The fact is, you do write your own life. Write the one you want. Illustrate it. Touch the pages. Have fun with it. Let Me help you.
Mother Divine:
There is more than one kind of tear.
The sad tears you shed are like dew on the grass.
You moisten events and renew them.
Tears fall like leaves from a tree.
They fall where they may.
What a gift are tears from a God Who gave you them.
Are tears not honest?
Gloria:
Most of the time.
Mother Divine:
Most of the time.
Most of the time they comfort you.
You never thought about that, did you? The comfort of tears?
The wiping of tears is not the comfort. The weeping of tears is the comfort.
Anything that comes spontaneously from you is good.
Why are tears any different from laughter?
They come from the same place.
They are variations of the same theme.
Even when you laugh hard, tears come.
All tears do is point out the contrast between Heaven and earth.
That is the sadness.
Tears saturate the earth with Heaven.
Tear-filled eyes look up towards Heaven.
Tears tell you that attachment to life is silly.
Laughter tells you that seriousness is silly.
And what is seriousness but attachment to relative life?
Tears and laughter point out details.
They are artists.
They are refiners of perception.
They are teachers.
Love your teachers.
Love this business called life.
Shed your tears, and shed your memories.
Memories are little belts that keep you bound.
They make you think you are bound.
Untie your memories and let them fly like happy birds.
You cry for what has been and for what has not been.
Regrets make you cry.
Have no regrets.
What did or didn't happen matters no longer unless you insist that it does.
The shores of the stream do not object to the stream's passing. The shores know that is what they are for. They are the container for passing waters.
You are the container of passing waves of life. The passing waves are impulses like fireflies that light up for a moment.
Nothing stays the same in relative life.
The only same there is is God.
He is the only True.
The passing waves are not false, and they are not true. They are just passing waves.
Waves have crests and troughs.
One makes the other.
The trough makes the wave go up.
The crest lets the wave go down.
Always the same water only in different shape.
Different strokes of the same pen.
Best to go with the waves.
You can't change them anyway. They have their own meter.
You have yours.
You are like God's oars in the water.