HEAVEN #2874 Little Miss Muffet, October 7, 2008___956
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------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Heaven Letters HeavenlettersT, bringing Earth closer to Heaven.
HEAVEN is here to reach every soul on earth to reawaken:
* Our connection to God *
* Our belief in ourselves *
* Our awareness of our shared worthiness to God *
* Peace on Earth *
God is always bringing us closer to Him. HEAVEN #2874 Little Miss Muffet, October 7, 2008 God said: What happens when you become attached is that you tie things
together in a particular inaccurate way. You may tie yourself up too tightly
in how another conducts his life. When a great love comes into your life, you feel more worthy
than you did before this great love came into view. By the same token, when
a great love leaves your life, you feel less worthy. You are not worth more nor are you worth less. Your worth is not
dependent upon someone else's appraisals or preferences at any one given
moment. It is an error to think that your merit goes up or down
according to how others choose to lead their lives. You feel you gain, and
you feel you lose. The sense of gain always carries with it the sense of loss. Some people you know mean more to you than others. Some of these
people in your life are called husbands or wives or significant others or
parents or children and so on. In a vast sense, who stands beside you is
irrelevant. Where they stand is irrelevant. You are not a dance teacher who
choreographs other dancers' positions and roles. The dance of life is extemporaneous. Positions change at will.
No one considers a dancer's steps as untenable. And yet you sometimes have
considered others' actions in their own dance as unforgivable. You may have
been the Maypole they once danced around, and now they dance somewhere else.
Nothing has happened. They are dancing in another scene, and now must you
too. You don't condemn a dance partner for dancing with someone else
or for choosing a dance that is not of your choosing. You cannot set the tempo for others' hearts. Hearts have their
own beats. No more are you the orchestra leader of hearts. No orchestra
member is at fault for playing the instrument he plays. Each instrument is
allowed to sing as it sings, and a string instrument is not faulted for
being a violin instead of a cello, nor is a string instrument faulted for
not being a drum. Yet when it comes to people, you sometimes have certain
expectations that they sing the song you wish, and sing as long as you say.
You become distraught when a ukulele is a ukulele. You expected too much.
You demanded too much. You may have thought a ukulele was a violin. You
expected and demanded what a simple instrument could not give, and you fault
the instrument for being what it is. It doesn't make sense, does it? And yet you would insist that people be all you want when you
want when they are only simple instruments that cannot always play the song
you want. You dreamed they played it once, yet it was your own heartbeat you
heard. Perhaps they were once able to play your favorite song, and now they
have lost their touch, or perhaps they have lost their will. Whose will should someone follow, beloveds, yours or his own? What do you make of other people who would tell you what you
must do and be and when and where? You might call them martinets. You are
appalled at the idea that there are those who would be so bossy. You dismiss
them from your list. And yet, you, when you demand that a loved one continue
to love you, or that anyone dance to your bidding, what are you but a
martinet? You have no right to tell another heart what it must feel and
what it must do. You have no right to obligate another's heart. I well know
that the world tells you that you do have every right. The world may even
tell you that you have been wronged. That you have been disappointed is fact. You would not be
weeping now if you were not disappointed. Get up from your disappointment,
beloveds. You have no business sitting here like Little Miss Muffet on her
tuffet eating her curds and whey. Get up now. Let Me wipe your tears. Go to
your fridge and find some sweet cream, and then rejoice in life and never
mind what you think someone should have done. Come dance with Me now. Add Comment || Printer friendly version Permanent Link:
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