Gloria to God:

Dear God, I love other people's questions, but, frankly, I'm tired of my own. I just want to hear from You.

God:

Your questions and comments get you connected to Me.

Say, Blah, blah, blah, with Me in mind, and you see Me appear before you!

Consider your personal questions and comments as an On switch. Be neutral about it. You don't adore an On switch, but you don't disdain it either. You don't think anything of it. Be the same with your own questions. They are just small talk, a way of making conversation. They lead to it. Like the social conventions, "How are you? Fine, thank you, how are you?", they are a way to get started.

It's like entering a room. You don't just descend. You aren't immediately in the center of the room. You open the door, come in. close the door, walk over, and sit down.

And now We are sitting down, and you have caught your breath and are ready to receive, pen and notebook in hand, your brain relaxed, your ears tuned, so to speak.

Consider yourself a tuning-fork. It takes a second for it to vibrate the right length.

You do see that in Godwriting, your heart sends out perfect rays. Your heart and ears are perfectly aligned antenna that pick up and catch My love, for that is what this is all about, love, isn't it? Not the mushy love you were accustomed to, but that pure beat, that pure radiation of a frequency called love.

That is why you can't be intellectual in the time with Me. The intellect breaks the frequency, and, therefore, the open connection; you waver and find yourself uncomfortable, as if with a negative thought. Not that it is negative, but it is off the love-track.

As We commune every day in this Our process of My speaking and your taking dictation, as readers read My way of thinking, as you reread it, you all become cultured with it. You take it out with you to the workplace and the common life, and you are nourished and fueled with My love, awareness of My love, and it pursues you during the day. My love pursues you constantly, but in moments, you remember.

This is a process of remembering, dear ones.

Remember to remember God, your Father, God, your Mother, and the Christed melding that is yourself.

You are a member of God's groups of beings. You remind yourself to remember your membership in this democracy of God's children, this God's club that embraces each heart fully. It is a brotherhood, a sisterhood, a God-hood, a God-Kingdom of which you are an honored member.

You left your membership cards somewhere, and then you forgot you ever had it.

Look for reminders, and be a reminder to others also.

When you have joy with something, you share that joy. Unshared joy is selfish. Selfish joy is not joy. It is a momentary appeasement of suffering.

You do not enter the Kingdom of Heaven by yourself. You cannot be a straggler.

Each Godwriter, each Heavenreader, has the urge to share his good feeling and sense of worth, to share the words I give, and to share the insights you have. That urge to share is not selfish but an impulse of love. You cannot keep Me to yourself.

When you find a lipstick that radiates Me on your lips, you wish to tell others and show it to them or even give them one. It is only natural to share.

So you, Gloria, in sharing Me with others this way, are doing what you love to do, and, therefore, must.

The artist must paint. The dancer must dance. The frog must leap, and the singer sing.

And those who read My words must show them to others. And those who write My words must introduce Godwriting to others, and others to it.

Communing with Me is not a private practice.

It is not that angels drag people to Heaven. It is that they make it known.

I do not belong in a secret corner of your life. I am not to be hidden. You do not wear Me as a sign across your chest either.

Wear Me as a beautiful ring on your finger, not hidden, but worn openly, there for others to see and to ask about. Say where you got it.

Am I not equal to a lipstick you found?

Gloria:

Dear God, this is the closest to a sermon I ever heard from You.

God:

Yes. I think I was preaching from a mountain-top.

Now I will just sit here quietly, waiting for My children to come.