Gloria to God:
Dear God, I must confess that I feel rather defeated/depleted this morning. The IRS, weeds, my own feelings seem to be getting me down. Things seem bleak. I feel an iron wedge in my heart. My heart is closed down. I'm hard-hearted. I feels like I've been thrown out of Heaven, and I don't know how to get back. I know You wouldn't throw anyone out, so somehow I have turned away. I feel like I've lost all innocence. I don't want to be a nice person anymore.
God:
What you are saying is you really don't want to be outer-oriented anymore. Outside things aren't enough any more. Think a minute. Isn't that what you are saying?
Gloria:
Probably. I am also saying that outside things have gotten me down, or rather, realizations about outside things have gotten me down. So it comes down to me. How I have looked at some things in life isn't valid any longer.
God:
In life. How you have looked at some things in life no longer holds up. You mean the world. Your view has changed.
Gloria:
Dear God, instead of with more love, I feel thousands less. I don't like myself. I can't seem to get this iron wedge out of my heart. I have asked You to help me, but not enough or deeply enough, I suppose.
God:
What are you holding on to, Gloria? You are trying to control. You are even trying to control what you feel.
Stop waiting for Me to come in. Look to Me, but don't wait for Me to pull you up. Try looking at your moment of darkness as I would. Look at it with My eyes. Take your eyes off the gloom. Take My eyes.
Gloria:
I can see the play of light on the leaves of a magnolia tree outside my window. It is like the wind is playing with the light, and that picture out through the glass is beautiful. But my heart is not connected to it.
I have a lot to be grateful for, but here I am, feeling like a spoiled brat.
God:
What does a spoiled brat feel like?
Gloria:
Wants her way. Foot-stamping if she doesn't get her way.
God:
But you're not stamping your foot.
Gloria:
No, I'm sulking. God, I find myself wanting to say just what I think, and what I think lately isn't very nice. I want to tell everybody off. I am angry ahead of time. I do feel like I've been in la-la land, and all of a sudden I've woken up. Maybe I'm seeing the reality in the world that everyone else sees, but I'm seeing it for the first time. It's like I've been holding on to feathers instead of solid.
God:
Hold on to Me. I am solid.
Gloria:
Christ saw the beauty and good in the world. I have just not been looking at the ugly. I have been avoiding looking. Christ saw beyond. I have been looking away. And now I don't like what I see now.
God:
Gloria, you have choices. You can look at your flowers or the weeds. Looking at your flowers doesn't mean denouncing the weeds or pretending they are not there. It is looking at the flowers. You can even look at the weeds and see their fortitude, their intelligence, and their love of life. You can admire them.
You can look at the IRS requirements or you can look at Heavenletters. You can look at what you have done instead of what you haven't done. You can look at Me, or not. Keep your eyes on what you want more of. Keep your eyes on lack or hurt, and you will have lack or hurt. Devote yourself to hurt or to love. Your choice.
You can let Me lift your heart or not.
You can remove that iron wedge. You can push it aside. It is not so heavy as you think. It is a pitiless thread.
It is just as easy to be happy as to be unhappy. Actually, it is easier to be happy. Do you think a weed is unhappy?
I think you dig at yourself as though you were a weed.
Be a weed then, Gloria, instead of a hapless flower. Be a strong weed that takes the soil and water and sun it wants and makes its way in the world. It has not forgotten Me. It is reaching to Me.
The weed doesn't sit back and wait for a God ex machina to come. The weed doesn't say, "Oh, the gardener here doesn't want me." Consider the gardener IRS in this case. The weed sings its song no matter who doesn't like it. The weed loses its flowers, its leaves, and still it doesn't lose heart. Even its root is dug up, and from the tiniest vestige of it, rises again.
Be the mighty dandelion. The dandelion loosens the soil for the gardener. You do not know what good you are doing by working with the IRS. You do not know what good you are doing for Me.
Gloria:
God, has my ego been too involved with all this?
God:
Yes.
Dear Gloria, I am like a weed. What daunts Me? I don't mind anything else. I keep going. I move forward. I know My soul and I know My purpose. A weed isn't shy. A weed knows its purpose is to dig its roots in and grow to the Sun.
Grow to Me.
Never mind what someone or something else thinks or does. Never mind who is loving or respectful to you or to Me. Be you loving and respectful to you, for I have made you. You are a vine growing to Heaven. A vine never stops growing to Heaven.
Consider not your personal frailties. Consider My strength. Think about Me, not you. Rise to Me.
Gloria:
Thank You, God.