I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you for all-time. You are My love. You are My love. Yes, you are the One I love. You are My love. You are the holder of My love as well as the beholder of My love. You are My love spread over the world. You are My love on Earth and beyond the Earth. My love is for everyone.
                                                                                   
Of course, I am far more than the frosting on the cake, yet you can know that I am spread liberally and evenly. No one, not a single soul, not a one, has Me with more frosting than you or has Me with less than you.
                                                                                   
You may not see life in the world that way because there is much misunderstanding in the world. With what you see as favored or unfavored is only a small section of the cake, and, of course, I must mention again, although I am the Creator, Designer, Supplier, Baker of this multifold cake, there is much else left up to the taster of the cake itself that is not in My purvey.
                                                                                   
Now you will debate. You may say:
                                                                                    
”God, all sections of this cake are not equal.”
                                                                                   
From Earth view, this isn’t even a question. You see variations of all kinds, the poor, the rich, the maimed. You see contrast galore. Yet when you came into My Bakery to be made, you pointed out certain flavors and colors and shapes and sizes you wanted for reasons you don’t grasp now and so may even cry out, “Unfair.” You may even feel picked on, that I have not done well by you and am not making it up to you now. Where does that idea get you, beloved?                                                                                    
                                                                                    
What you are missing now in your objections is that you see only part of the story. You don’t know yet how the story turns out. Do you remember the story of the lame boy? He had an advantage in being lame. He could not run away. Therefore, he learned to stand his ground. You would not think it a blessing to be lame and not be able to run away. You might think it a punishment.
                                                                                   
The world, even as you may see it, is not all wrong, beloveds. What you consider perfection is not necessarily better all way round any more than what you consider imperfect is a defect. You speak from a small place rather than a large view. You may not even want to see from a large view. You may prefer a confined place over a wide open range that doesn’t have the boundaries that you may call standards.
                                                                                   
Will you come to admit, even to yourself, that your strong sense of justice may not hold you in good stead? How can it when you nail yourself down and won’t budge? “Right is right,” you say. And what you see, the angle you come from, is geared to prove you right. Might you consider being glad to be mistaken and the world be a far better place than how you presently see it?
                                                                                   
Somewhere within you, you have some awareness that life in the world is about more than the gradations you see as right or as wrong. Presently, you go under a binary count system when there are many angles from which to see the light of a diamond.
                                                                                   
When someone says to you: “Where is God?”, you can know within that your answer is:  “Why, God is in me. Therefore, in you.”
                                                                                                                                                                   
You don’t have to teach anyone this, only yourself.