All the time and energy you have spent on your imaginary self. All the worries. All the details. All about what you want and what someone said and other nonexistent earth realities. You have been making life a board game, as if life really were all the rigamarole attached to it. Now you know better. Now you will get out of all the density. You poked your head in a jar too small, and it got caught there. Caught in the smallness is just another way to describe selfishness.
Now that you begin to know the hugeness of your scope, you know there is nothing you can get caught into. You are so great there is nothing you can fit into. Nothing equals you. You can’t fit into anything smaller. You can’t fit, and you can’t belong there. You can only kid yourself so. And that is what you have been doing.
There are no borders to you. Borders are fiction. Fiction is stranger than truth. Truth is simple. Truth isn’t all the things that happen in life. All of life is a coincidence, but the incidents are not life.
It is not really even that you hope to coexist with Me, as if that is something to seek and achieve. We are. That is enough. There is nothing to attain. It already is.
And yet I keep telling you to look for Me. Now you see that I am telling you to look for yourself. To find yourself where you are, not where you thought you were. You have been looking for Me outside you only because you thought there was an outside you.
No wonder life has seemed arduous. You believed in a world that wasn’t there — isn’t there. You believed in the world and followed its many dictates, contrary as they were. You knew they made no sense, and so you called the world frenetic and blamed Me. I made you, only you. And the meaning of you includes the stars and the sun and the moon and the firmament and all the beauty of nature and all the goodness in men’s hearts. Beauty and goodness are not apart from you. They are you. But the world of men is the making of men whose thoughts have gagged themselves.
But it is only apparition, this world as it is known. It is a nonexistent world, only a pattern made that has been followed over and over again, automatically, as if that old worn-out dismal pattern is the only one available or possible. But the pattern of the world was not made in Heaven. You were.
And now you make another pattern. You do it with your heart. You step out of this little person in a body that you thought you were and you become the majesty of creation that creates only goodness and beauty and peace. The flag of love unfurls itself. You are the unfurler. You, My beautiful blessed child, you will calm the world and reconfigure it. You. Only you. You will bring true knowledge of itself to an aberrant world. There is only One of Us to do it, and so you, the you of I, shall do it, and it shall be done. You will make a model of Heaven and call it the world, and it will be closer to Reality than ever before. Reality on earth will come true, and love will reign, and you will have made it so.
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