Gloria to God:

Dearest God in Heaven, someone was over yesterday who really got the hang of doing her own Godwriting Everything You told her was really astute, except for one thing!!! She asked if You were angry with her, and you said no, you were just exasperated. The God I know is not capable of getting exasperated let alone angry. It hurt my heart that it would even occur to this dear person that You could be upset with her. I cannot imagine Your being exasperated with anyone or anything at all. Was that part of the writing from her own small self, from her church, her upbringing etc? I can't believe that it was from You.

God:

As she gets to know Me better, feel better with Me, she will pick up more of My love. I would say that 80% of what she wrote was truly from Me. The rest, her own projection. And that is a pretty good per cent, wouldn't you say?

It is not a case that I am tender with one and not another. I do not assume a less divine aspect to one and more benign to another. I am impartial. All are my favorites. I am viewed differently, but I am always the same. I AM.

And My beloved children can always be the same by virtue of not judging. This person you mention carries along judgment that had been directed to her. She learned judgment rather than acceptance. Judgment separates. Acceptance joins. I am a God of union, not severance. I don't tell anyone to sit in a corner or on a stool with a dunce cap on. I don't put My children in rows. I don't give report cards. I don't give D's or E's or even B's and C's, not even A's. I put a sticker on everyone that says Mine. I put an identifying star in each heart so that you can look at the stars in Heaven and sparkle light on earth.

What a relief. I don't have to keep enormous records. There is one side to My ledger, and everyone's name is in it and marked with My love. I invite everyone to My party, not just some. I tell everyone to join Me.

Would I be less than Hansel and Gretel who left crumbs so they could find their path home?

I scattered stars. I placed the sun in the sky and a mirror of a moon. I planted flowers on earth and set My children down to tend them. I left directions sealed in each heart so you would know your way back. I put a lighthouse in each heart like radar. Hearts beat out like sonar waves. Love is the magnet. The universe beats a drum that calls you home.

I laugh to think that even one of My children could think he is lost! No one loses his way. Some stop looking. Some are more interested in the wares along the way. Some walk backwards. But each is coached by Me.

What silliness detains My children?

Right now, this very moment, I reach for you. I would pull you up and have you ride with Me on a white courser all the way to Heaven. My arms have room for all. Heaven is vast.

Gloria:

Everything pales next to You, God.

God:

No, everything is Me, Gloria.

Gloria to Mother Divine:

Dear Mother Divine, I burnt my right index finger badly with a pan from the broiler yesterday, and wouldn't you know, the burn is just at the place where I hold my pen to do this writing, so this morning I am forced to write directly onto the computer. I don't know if anyone can tell a difference, and I don't know that I can, but I miss the flow of the pen. I think maybe writing by hand is closer to my heart, as if the right arm's moving exercises it.

Mother Divine:

Yes, you like to hold Us in your hand. You feel the stream of love in the flow of the pen and your hand touching the paper. You sense the purple pen leaving flowing marks, like the flow of God's robes touching the floor of your heart.

Writing directly onto the computer seems more impersonal to you. You feel it as the difference between a handknit sweater and a machine-manufactured one.

But God flows in the tips of your fingers on the computer keys as well as from a ballpoint pen. God's venue is the same.

If you use oil paints or play piano keys, God is there in full-force. If you use a tape recorder or write shorthand, no matter to God. Totally up to you. Of course, it's less work writing electronically, but if God is more satisfying to you held in your hands in a notebook rather than on a screen at a distance, then you really have no choice.

But it is good for you to know that you can write God either way.

Gloria:

We have a mulberry tree just ripe with mulberries. They cover the ground. There are a million more on the branches. You can't catch them all or eat them all. And I thought that that is like the abundance God gives us.

Mother Divine:

It is like the tiniest edge of what God offers. And you can see how the mulberries want to be picked. They are there for you. Their being enjoyed is their fruition. Consider the mulberry tree a symbol of all of God's creation. Abundance is God's name.

Gloria:

Lately I have been waking up early, waking up ready to wake up. Waking up doesn't seem to be slow any more. So I've been going since four this morning, and it gives me more time for everything. It's like living in a palace as opposed to a hut!

Mother Divine:

The secret is that you have something you want to bound out of bed for, and that is writing to God. Otherwise, you would still be a slugabed. Sleep used to be your favorite thing. Now God is.

You are waking up to God. The whole earth is waking up to God. Look for all the signs of the world's awakening. Count them.

Note them. Birds have been singing for a long time. The sun has been rising forever. The sky is blue, and grass is green. But the world is catching on to God now. God, once found, is kept. Once heard, is taped. God is making headlines.