With all the love in My heart, I love you. That is My life. That is My story. Of course, it is not a story. I leave the stories to you. My love is the theme. Love is what I am here for, and this is true for you as well.
There is nothing else for Me to be here for. My love keeps the seasons going. My love is My very existence, and it is yours as well.
My love is the sun and the rain, and My love is you.
You are the love of My life. My love burst into more love, and so you were born on wings of love to Earth. Earth was a landing place. A landing place for an interval, and that interval you call your life. It's just a temporary stop, beloveds.
If you were an airplane, you would land, and then you would lift off. Your life is like that. Airplanes fly in, and airplanes fly out. Airplanes deplane. Airplanes take off. On land or in air, an airplane is an airplane.
Whether on Earth or in Heaven, an angel is an angel. Oh, if only you would believe in your angelhood, how magnificent would your sojourn on Earth be. You would live up to your image. You would never let yourself down by a parody of yourself.
You would sing a different note. You would sing a different song. You would indeed sing. You would sing the glory of life and thank Me for it, as I do thank you for living your life at Our concurrence.
I understand how you don't really know what life is, and what yours is, what life is about, and what it is meant to be, and you don't know how to resolve the discordance between your true life and the one you seem to be moored in. What is your life but a stroll We take together, beloveds? And yet you are so distracted by the scenery, you spend much of this short span of life forgetting that I accompany you. You forget Me, and you forget you. It is not really that you lose your way. You forget your way.
You spend so much time remembering past activities that you forget your Infinite Past, which is the same as your Infinite Present and our engagement in an enterprise so vast that you do not always see its Vastness and Wonderment. Your shoes are as if glued to Earth, and you amazingly think that you live in your shoes when you really live in your heart with Me. In your heart,
We sit in a swing, and We swing and We watch the sun rise, and We watch the sun set. We take joy in both, and yet our joy is not dependent upon either one. Our love is dependent upon nothing. Our love always was. It always is, will be. There is nothing for life to lack because, of love itself, there is no lack.
I concede there is perceived lack of love, but perception isn't all that it is often held up to be. Perception is a leaf in the wind. Our love is the wind itself. Our love is what makes the wind to blow. We are It, beloveds. Our Oneness is the story complete. From beginning to end, We are One. There is no beginning nor end to Our Oneness. Our Oneness is neither near nor far. Oneness is Everythingness. What an existence We are. What love We give, and what love We tell. We are like an army of love. The arms we bear are love. We march to love. We love.
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