Heaven Letters Published on: February 12, 2013
This is the moment of Truth, when you sit down to hear what I have to say. This applies whether you are the one hearing what I say or reading what is written that I say. You hear or read My love translated into words. There is no distance in between. Distance does not exist. In any case, My words, My thinking, My love enter your cells. Beloveds, We are working on the cellular level. This is not a pastime that We engage in. We are beyond the realm of imagined time.
Thought is not separate from your atoms. You didn’t think I was just another Speaker or Writer, did you? The difference is that I am not watered down. The difference is that I am bare-boned honesty. I am not clever. I do not deliberate. Every word from My breath is forthright and spontaneous. I do not prepare My thoughts to present to you in words.
It is like when I created the world. I did not belabor Myself. Creation was easy and simple. There was nothing to it. The created world was My desire. In the same moment that My desire bubbled up, Creation arose.
It is as though I am a Jazz Pianist. You might say I improvise. My fingers choose the tune as they travel the keys and play the tune. Not really improvised because what can My tune be but on key and of the essence? In the case of My words here, the one who types follows My notes on the piano. She keeps up. Sometimes she misses a note, but that’s all right because I am the One playing the piano, and the whole world hears My music even when you don’t know you are hearing Me. My river runs deep. What I speak to one, I speak to all. I call to all. I call to you.
There is a pause between notes that is like the pause between heartbeats. The pause is as powerful as the beat. Pause is not absence. I am fully in the pause as well as the beat. I am making music, beloveds, and you hear the beat, and your foot taps.
In the same breath, as I say to you that you know nothing, I also say you know Everything. You are not a stranger to Truth, the Truth of Me, and the Truth of you which are One and the Same.
Only, you are in a trance. You sleepwalk, although you hear faintly, almost imperceptibly My Voice calling to you, whispering to you to wake up, to hear My call to you. “Wake up,” I say. “Hear Me. Open your eyes. Rise from your sleeping state.”
You can stay where you are, and yet, at the same time, you can come Home. You can know where I am and where you are and where our hearts dwell as One.
If I am a Marvel, what are you? Is it not marvelous that you are on Earth? Isn’t it marvelous that you are, at the same time, in Heaven? Isn’t it marvelous that We are One, and you playact as though We were two? Isn’t it marvelous that life is and is not really and that really All That Is is Oneness? Whose Oneness can it be when it is Oneness? To whom can it belong when All is One? Who writes the story and who reads it? What is the difference? To you, this replication of Me as an individual on Earth, it seems like a world of difference, but there is no world really, is there? There is the Unity of Heart that I know as One and, deep down, that the seeming you knows as One as well.
