The Flute of God’s Heart
There is no stretch in your being that which you already are. To shine fully as you are requires only that you lift the veils of ignorance that have covered up your natural beauty. It is you who covered up your beauty. Now it is you who has to remove the splinter from your own eye. You have kept truth hidden from view. It was not done to you. You perpetrated the fraud on yourself. Of course, you did have a little help from the world at large and the patterns that the world had set.
You bought into fiction, and you have kept up the illusion that the fiction is true, and that truth is fiction. You hold onto this thought tightly. It is a convincing thought. How could you, you mumble to yourself, possibly be Greatness? You? You think you know yourself too well. You know every thought and emotion. Nevertheless, you haven’t begun to know yourself. Naturally, you have to go beneath the surface. The surface is that you haven’t shaved today, or put on make-up. You haven’t yet wiped the sleepy sand out of your eyes. Your vision is blurred. That is the surface.
It’s not that you don’t have the eyes to see. You do have the eyes to see, and yet you do not see. Perhaps you haven’t dared look. As much as you disbelieve that you are wholly Greatness, you fear that if you dared to look, your slightest hope would be dashed. Well, dears, make your hopes reality. Make them come true. They are already true. Make your hopes stand up and declare their truthfulness.
Too often, in the morning, when it is time to wake up, you don’t want to wake up. You make a last effort to stay asleep or go back to sleep and keep your eyes closed to the sunshine streaming in your window.
Tarry not. Wake up now. The rooster is crowing.
***
When it comes to Heavenletters, we can compare them to flowers. All flowers are flowers. There are many varieties of flowers. They come from different angles, as it were. They all pretty much have stems and leaves and blooms. There are countless shades of color and variations. Countless varieties of flowers. Some grow this way, and some grow that way, and, yet, a flower is a flower.
We can say that there are infinite flowers of Heavenletters. No two are exactly alike. At the same time, each Heavenletter, as it blooms, repeats itself. It shares the commonwealth of Heavenletters. It is as if the same photo is taken from a different angle. Some Heavenletters get into more detail. Some are more poetic. Some are more down-to-earth. Some are easier to follow than others. Some are opaque. Some twist and turn on the page. Some stride across the page. Some go fast, and some go slowly. Some take you by the collar and shake you. Some take you lazily down a gentle stream. There are rollicking Heavenletters and Heavenletters that stand still.
It could be possible to say that all Heavenletters are a variation of one theme. It could be possible to say that all Heavenletters are about love and how to love and how to move forward and how to love some more. And, yet, no Heavenletter is a how-to. Heavenletters are not step-by-step manuals. They are not manuals. They are not a series. Each Heavenletter stands on its own, and yet each builds on another.
Each is a note of a song I sing to you or play for you on the flute of My heart.
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