Gloria to God:

Dear God in Heaven, Sandra wondered what You mean by silent contracts. Yesterday you said, "You likely are not aware of silent soul contracts you have made." I wonder too.

God:

Perhaps you made a date, centuries and lifetimes ago, to meet someone on a certain street corner, and you will.

Perhaps you said you would work something out with someone, and you do.

You are fledgling birds.

Half the time — more — you have no idea what is going on. This is one reason My children tend to get caught in the little dramas.

This is also one reason why the intellect cannot make sense of things, can only clutch at straws and make far-fetched excuses.

You are an expression. You are the one who expresses. You express like a wave. You are a noun and a verb and the process of uniting both.

Gloria:

So we play things out in life, dear God? We are like threads pulling and being pulled?

God:

Being pulled by yourselves.

Gloria:

I had a thought recently connecting my mother to what I am doing now. My mother came to this country from Russia by herself when she was twelve years old and went to work. She could sign her name, but never learned to write in English. Yet my mother had such a sense of story and an amazing way with words.

She used to read the Jewish papers, and there was a column called Bintl Brief. It was a kind of Dear Abby, but it was respected. More, it was revered.

What dawned on me the other day is that HEAVEN is a Bintl Brief! It is a Dear God column that tells the intimate stories and questions of human life, answered by a Wise Loving Guide Who knows and gives true fulfilling answers.

I thought that somehow I'm fulfilling my mother in this; she would have been so happy to be part of an advice column!

God:

Many levels here. You are working something out for Me. And, yes, for your mother, and, yes, for yourself, and, yes, for others, and yes yes yes.

How intricate a pattern each thread weaves. It is a grand design, and it is beautiful. The whole design cannot be seen. You can see only where you are. You can wonder where you came from, and why you're turning this way and not that, and all is to re-find your way to Me.

Your life searches for this intangible yet most real Creator Whom you pull away from and gravitate to.

Many things were decided in this present moment that you call past. Threads meet and part and meet again.

You fulfill. You are on earth to fulfill.

You wrote a script that you unknowingly follow, but you wrote the script. You wrote the chapters, the plot, the characters, and you chose the star of your life — you.

And now you are reading that book you wrote and write, turning the pages, and never knowing what is next.

But, ah, there is a Producer Who helps you.

This is an unending book you write. Chapter after chapter, but no end to it. Always a next page, another chapter, another string of words.

This is the meaning of eternity, which is no time at all.

This is the meaning of you who is no one at all, so you are everyone, and everyone is you, and you all are breaths of Me.

Heavenreaders write this along with your hand. Who is the reader, and who is the writer, and who is what is read?

You weave the fishnet you are caught in, and it rises to Heaven. Do I pull you up, or do you pull yourself? And what is the difference so long as We meet and dwell together?

This is not to understand. This is to know. This is to remember. Or not.

Weave today, and you will see that you are closer to Me. Little detours also bring you to Me. This day brings you to Me, and I am where you are anyway, for We are One.

You are unfolding.