Gloria to God:

Dear God, when something like the last entry writes, I think What is this? Is this just some craziness of mine? And now, in the morning, I read it over. I don't know what it means, but I love it. I know it means something, and it certainly full of Your love pouring out.

Dear Father, I had to leave the room for a moment, and, for those few moments, I thought Maybe now I'm off! And last night when I doubted was when I had my wits! Then I feel it doesn't matter at all. I'm happy. You write to me. God actually trusts me!

God:

I know you very well.

Gloria:

Then I think back to that about my owning Your gift, and I think, for moments at a time anyway, that I don't even exist at all, so how do I own anything? Sometimes I feel non-existent, like Gloria doesn't exist at all. The power of You exists, and I'm some kind of a drawn representation. So how can I, this individual, own anything when I'm not even existent?

I know Karen exists. What a personality, and she makes me laugh. I also know the full God staunch in her. I don't even know what I'm saying. Maybe it's You Who owns me!

God:

You are a fluid representation of Me. In a way, you are like Me on paper, but then I blew life into that sketch that is now Gloria, and you roll around the earth where I set you in order to identify yourself.

Owning the gift is knowing who you are, and you are Myself. You represent Me, and you are that which you represent. You are I come to physical life on earth.

Owning your gifts is knowing Whose they are! The not owning is the owning! The gifts just are. You are. I am.

Gloria:

Dear God, I'm lost again.

God:

There are no boundaries. There is no separation. There is existence. Begin to know that you hold My Power on earth. You do not merely act in My stead, you are My stead.

It is acknowledging your royal beginnings. You are a shoot from the Tree of God. You came from Me. Our Identity is so interwoven that unplaiting it is not a possibility. And why should it be?

We are a blessed One. That is what Karen means about responsibility.

You are not someone just standing there as a bystander and a ball got thrown to you by chance. It's not like you caught it and don't know what to do with it. You caught it; it is yours now, and now you bounce that ball wherever you go. It is your ball. It is in your hands.

Maybe you thought you were on the sidelines, but now you know you are in the game. You are a big-name player. You are captain. Funny, but all the other members of the team are also captains. There is no water boy.

Consider that ball you caught (and you were supposed to catch it) as a jewel placed in your forehead, yes, over the third eye to amplify your vision. With this jewel, you see far and wide, deep, and inside. X-ray vision ex Deus.

You are from God. You are like My fingers. You play the piano for Me. Your fingers press the keys and make Heavenly Music on earth. And so be it.

A Course in Miracles, Lesson 333:
"Forgiveness ends the dream of conflict here. Conflict must be resolved. It cannot be evaded, set aside, denied, disguised, seen somewhere else, called by another name, or hidden by deceit of any kind if it would be escaped. It must be seen exactly as it is, where it is thought to be, in the reality which as been given it, and with the purpose that the mind accorded it. For only then are its defenses lifted, and the truth can shine upon it as it disappears. Father, forgiveness is the light You chose to shine away all conflict and all doubt, and light the way for our return to You. No light but this can end our evil dream. No light but this can save the world. For this alone will never fail in anything, being Your gift to Your beloved Son."

Gloria to God:

Dear Father, when I think of forgiveness in its beauty, I think of Christ in Godspell when Judas comes back after having given Jesus away. Christ knows what Judas has done, and Christ says to Judas, "Hello, Friend," with the sweetest smile in the world.

Not by a thread did Christ take this personally. He thought about Judas with compassion and not about himself.

God:

He saw nothing to forgive. He saw Me wherever he looked. He saw beyond appearances. He did not see what everyone else saw. He saw with My eyes. He saw that this was the play of life on earth. His eyes shone with love. Christ saw very clearly indeed.

Gloria to Mother Divine:

Dear Mother Divine, what would you like to tell me?

Mother Divine:

A flower grows from the soil, and the Sun shines on it. Never does the flower think that the Sun doesn't shine for him. The Sun is his and belongs as much to the flower as its own petals and leaves.

In fact, the flower even knows that he is a form of the Sun. Is it not the Sun's light that makes his leaves green? Doesn't the Sun nourish his life's sap and reach every cell of the flower's being?

The flower knows that he is the Sun. The flower reflects the Sun's light in its colors and its scent. All those who come by pick up the light of the Sun from the flower who is simply being the flower that he is. He knows he is without compare. He knows he is the Sun's flower on earth.

Later…

Gloria to God:

Dear God, today is twenty-five years ago that I became a teacher of meditation. Twenty-five years ago! Hard to believe. And tomorrow will be the same for Lauren. Thank You, God, that I learned to meditate, and through Your grace and meditation, got to know You.

God:

It was in the stars, Gloria. It was in the bag. You and I were going to get to know each other, form a beautiful friendship and partnership, and sew the world together. We are in this soup together.

I am delighted. And in the silent spaces of your meditation, you were also introduced to Mother Divine who wishes to talk to you.

Gloria to Mother Divine:

Dear Mother Divine, what would you like to tell me?

Mother Divine:

Nice to swim in the world with you. We are like beautiful wide rosy satin ribbons. With ribbons of ourselves, we soothe wounds in the heart, mend tears, and bind blessings to the world.

Yes, we are ribbons that course through the world, attend to it, hold it safe.

You are a pink ribbon of love strewn across the sunset sky at dusk, wrapping up the day in your writing in the loft.