Whose life do you think you have? It is Mine. It is My life you are carrying around. I tender My life to you to engage in on Earth. I sent Myself out to play, and you accepted the role as your own. You thought you were stranded on Earth as on a deserted island. You forgot that Earth was to be as in Heaven, and that you were to allow Me to do so. That is when the concept of you and I was coined, as if I could be apart from Myself and that you were your own expression walking on Earth. You played a joke on yourself (Me).
Did I play a joke on Myself? Is it I Who wanders on Earth? How can I be God and yet, at the same time, be you questioning you? How can the Answerer of All have a question to ask and a deep anguish to have it answered?
When did words become so important? Everything had to be named. You had to point your finger at it, and listen to its sound. Where you came from and where I abide in Absolute Being, there is no need for names. Names came about only when there was the thought of otherness. Why would I need a name when I know Myself? Yet I chose a name and called Myself, God or the word for God in every language. It is all the same to Me. What can it possibly affect what name I am called. Nameless, I will answer. I do not wait to be asked. I am the One at a party Who never leaves.
To the figment of Me, which is you, by what name I am called assumes an importance to you, that imagined aspect of Myself that craves diversion.
From Me the five senses were born, and through them you know life on Earth. There is no physical sense through which to access Me. I am the Non-Material, and so are you. How can it be otherwise when We are One? I assure you that We are One. It has never been otherwise.
And yet you have dis-inherited yourself, as if you could. You have set up a claim extolling the non-discovery of Truth. Here I am, you say, when you could be saying Here I AM. The Am-ness of you is the same Am-ness of Me, and yet there is no you and there is no I as if across from you, for We are exquisite Oneness of Being.
We are tethered. You cannot make a move without moving Me, the Immovable. You may invite Me to be a guest at your party. Invited or not, I am your Guest, or am I the Host? I entertain Myself, for Whom Else is there to entertain?
You cannot even be an offshoot of Myself except by declaration, and your declarations are illusion. You even go so far as to say I don’t exist, and you parade in a parody of life when I am Life Quintessential!
Must you wander off as if you had no Home? Must you choose to be a vagabond? You are a vagabond thought, yet there is nothing to declare yourself but love, My love at that. When it comes to My love, there is nothing to declare. Who needs to declare the Sun when it shines? And the Sun is always shining. And so am I, and so are you.
http://heavenletters.org/whose-life-is-it.html
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