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Heavenletter #4986 A Wild Rose By Gloria Wendroff

Gloria WendroffGive Me your burdens. Hand them over. Do you really want them? My shoulders are broad. Burdens of yours weigh nothing with Me. And that is what burdens are worth — nothing. Indeed, they may lie heavily on you, yet they do not weigh Me down. Burdens are burdens only by virtue of your perception. They are nothing at all. Your perception is mis-aligned, regardless of what the world declares. Burdens are not desirable. They are not a status symbol. Hand your burdens to Me, and I put them in the burden-washer. Your burdens come out squeaky-clean.

Predominantly, your burdens are sense of loss, present, past, or future. Better to develop a sense of love. Of course, love is no burden at all. The sense of love I speak of is a neutral kind of love, one that witnesses yet doesn’t absorb, a kind of love that sails across the seas and climbs the mountains and asks for no captives, makes no demands. Burdens are self-imposed, and make many demands. They demand free passage from you. They demand virtue. They demand virtuous suffering from you. Burdens burden and oppress you, and you think the sense of burden is justified no matter what.

It is enough, for instance, as you perceive it, that a loved one was taken from you, and you feel the empty space. Burden tries to fill the emptiness with more emptiness by squeezing pain for all it is worth. Burden gets you to your knees, and so you surrender to oppression. You make burden a heavyweight. Burden is like a shawl you put over yourself to hide love from you. Mourning isn’t love. Mourning is too much butter slathered on love. Love frees. Burden clings. Remove burden. See through burden. Burden is not a good guy. No longer superimpose loss upon yourself.

In loss, you somehow make yourself the culprit when there is none, unless you like to call life the culprit.

Despite how helpless you may feel, you can live without your loved one, and you can love without your loved one right there beside you. Burden is not love. Burden is reprisal. For every moment of joy, you exact penance from yourself, retribution against yourself for loving, punishment to your heart for having presumed that you could love and keep it up even when your love was removed from your sight. Is this not the true story?

Rejoice for your friend who came Home to Me. Are you to weep that life or so-called death has outsmarted you, stolen from you, refused your pleas?

Burdens are self-centered. They are about you and not your loved one. You have plaints, and your plaints are like a knife or wedge you put in your beautiful heart in order to deny its existence and zest for life that your Good God has given you. Let not your loved one be your excuse for self-excess. Enough of burden now. Let your loved one be a mantle of open-heartedness and renewal. No time-out from love and embracing the world. You are far more than an icon of love. You are love. You are a beating heart that loves. Don’t make your love an excuse for mourning. Do not exult in your heart that you call broken.

You are not a horse to be broken into submission. Allow your heart to be a wild rose that keeps climbing to the sun and making it to the sun. A wild rose does not suffer. A wild rose reaches the heights and keeps climbing and furthering love. Love is not to tie you down. It is to uplift you. True love is not to be beseeched. It is to be beloved.

Copyright © 1999-Now Heavenletters™

Although Heavenletters are copyrighted, you are invited to share them, send them to friends, add to your newsletter, use as a signature, make bumper stickers, skywrite with them – whatever you like, and please include the Source! www.heavenletters.org. And, of course, do not charge for them!

Abraham Hicks: Accept one’s natural Well Being Law of Attraction Workshop “The Secret”

My Lute Awake By Sir Thomas Wyatt

Sir Thomas Wyatt

My lute awake! perform the last
Labour that thou and I shall waste,
And end that I have now begun;
For when this song is sung and past,
My lute be still, for I have done.

As to be heard where ear is none,
As lead to grave in marble stone,
My song may pierce her heart as soon;
Should we then sigh or sing or moan?
No, no, my lute, for I have done.

The rocks do not so cruelly
Repulse the waves continually,
As she my suit and affection;
So that I am past remedy,
Whereby my lute and I have done.

Proud of the spoil that thou hast got
Of simple hearts thorough Love’s shot,
By whom, unkind, thou hast them won,
Think not he hath his bow forgot,
Although my lute and I have done.

Vengeance shall fall on thy disdain
That makest but game on earnest pain.
Think not alone under the sun
Unquit to cause thy lovers plain,
Although my lute and I have done.

Perchance thee lie wethered and old
The winter nights that are so cold,
Plaining in vain unto the moon;
Thy wishes then dare not be told;
Care then who list, for I have done.

And then may chance thee to repent
The time that thou hast lost and spent
To cause thy lovers sigh and swoon;
Then shalt thou know beauty but lent,
And wish and want as I have done.

Now cease, my lute; this is the last
Labour that thou and I shall waste,
And ended is that we begun.
Now is this song both sung and past:
My lute be still, for I have done.

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Heavenletter #4985 The Glory of Love in Heaven By Gloria Wendroff

Gloria WendroffTo all a good day. May you have a fine day today, a delightful day, a loving day, a day that blesses and enlivens you, a day to look forward to, a day to love through rather than live through. A day where you get going, and a day where you pause, a day to enter into, and a day to let pass. Today cannot be a day like any other day, for each day is given its full measure. No two days are alike, not even to the weatherman.

Every day is like a bursting through life the way a flower seed bursts through the soil, and there is the sun, the yellow sun that energizes the day, and you, and you. The day has its say, and then the day goes to bed and night rises, and along with the night, the moon. There is moonrise, and moonset, even as the sun and the moon are ever-present. All the effects are on Earth for you. Sun in the morning and the moon in the evening, you are okay.

Of course, you are better than okay. You are better than all right. You are better than fine. You who are made of Magnificence are magnificent. And this is a magnificent day before you or following you, allowing you to enter into it and come out of the day as a lily-flower or a gladiola or a bleeding heart or a hyacinth or hollyhock or rare lady slipper. Whatever your dress, you go into the night, and the next morning you lift your head again to the sun.

One day after the other is better than a deck of cards with aces.

Isn’t life better than anything else in the world except for Oneness right beneath your Awareness and right under your eyes and under your feet, for Oneness is unfettered and inescapable, and you are a prime example of Oneness even though ego still sticks to you. Ego is fickle and flighty, and you don’t always spot ego until after you have flirted with it. What a come-on ego gives, trying to compete with flowers and the sun and the moon and the stars.

Ego does not remind you of Heaven. It reminds you of glory on Earth which cannot be compared to the Glory of Love in Heaven which also comports itself on Earth. The glory of ego, like ego itself, is false. The Glory of Truth is Heaven, and you do fly here every night. You know Heaven well, yet, it seems to be that only after of the fact of ego, you become aware of the difference between ego and the Glory of Love as it is in Heaven.

And yet you get better at telling the difference. The Glory of Heaven is always glory whereas the glory of ego is a false bravado or a false pat on the head, definitely always a disappointment, never what you thought it would be.

You flail that love lets you down. You have let love down. You asked something of it. You ask love to give to you in a way you have thought of beforehand. You forget that you are to give love and leave it where it lies. You are not to ask a particular of love. You are simply to give love and let love be. Who told you to limit your love and withdraw it for a grade that you give it, for you do not own love, yours or another’s.

You are to be what you are, and that is love. You are love and not something you make of it. For the Love of God, you are the Magnificence of Love, so, Be it.

Copyright © 1999-Now Heavenletters™

Although Heavenletters are copyrighted, you are invited to share them, send them to friends, add to your newsletter, use as a signature, make bumper stickers, skywrite with them – whatever you like, and please include the Source! www.heavenletters.org. And, of course, do not charge for them!

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