I love you. There is nothing else for Me to do. I love you with the love you are made of. I formed you from the clay of My love. My hands made you. My heart made you. I did not mold you out of thin air. I molded you from the expression of My heart. My heart is infinite, as is yours. Made from My heart of gold, what can you be but the gold of My heart?

Clay or gold makes no difference. The clay of My heart is gold. I gave you Myself. I molded Myself and planted Myself everywhere. And you are Myself.

You may tend to think that I am very far away from you when, all the while, I am the Intimate Beingness of you. If I am your Intimate Being, I am the individual who sits before Me now. I am Vastness, and so are you. No matter how squeezed your heart may be, it is My heart in you that you are squeezing. Unsqueeze your heart, and know I am God. I am not far away. I am the closest thing to you there is. A heart of gold is a heart of love. I am restating your identity. You are nothing but a heart of love, a heart and soul of love, of light, that is always on and never flashes off, not even for a blink of an eye.

You see otherwise, short-sighted as you are. Open your eyes wide, and there is nothing in all existence but you and Me. We are It. We are hearts joined at the hip, as it were. We are One wonderful jug of wine. We are not a piece of cake. We are the cake entire. Of course, We are not located. We are not glued somewhere. We are not glued. We are everywhere and no place at all because space does not exist. We are never locked in. We are never out of time or ever in it. Anything but Our love is illusion. Anything but the Oneness of Love is doodling.

Love in Heaven was made concrete on Earth. This is all that has happened. From My heart, you were formed gold. You understand that gold is not the metal gold I speak of. I can only speak in metaphor, and yet no metaphor exists. There is nothing to compare love to because there is nothing but the One Gold of Love. It is an illusion that you are not love. It can only be a made-up thing that you are loveless. You are loveful. You are nothing else but love. You are the whole shebang.

Consider that you are a boomerang of Me. You always come back to Me who is Yourself. You send yourself, and you return. You always come back perfectly. Of course, I speak in metaphor because there is nothing else to speak in. Even though there is nothing to compare love to, I express love in words. Each word is a flower that grows. Do you see what I mean that all speech is metaphor? We speak in the illusion that we can demarcate love. The world is rife with metaphor.

Life exists as love, and anything else has been made up. We try to express the inexpressible. And We keep trying to express the love that alone exists. Love does not know how to find the words to sum it up. Of course, the sum is One. One is the total arithmetic in the world. One is never repeated. It simply is.