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gary

THE GOD MEMORANDUM

To: You
From: God

t
Take counsel
I hear your cry.
It passes through the darkness,filters through the
couds, mingles with starlight, and finds its way to my
heart on the path of a sunbeam.
I have anugished over the cry of a hare choked
in the noose of a snare, a sparrow tumbled from the
nest of its mother,a child thrashimg helplessly in a
pond, and a son shedding his blood on a cross.
Know that I hear you, also. Be at peace. Be calm.
I bring thee relief for your sorrow for I know its
cause...and its cure.
You weep for all your childhood dreams that have
vanished with the years.
You weep for all your self-esteem that has been
corrupted by failure.
You weep for all your potential that has been bar-
tered for security.
You weep for all your indivduality that has been
trampled by mobs.
You weep for all your talent that has been wasted
through misuse.
You look upon yourself with disgrace and you turn
in terror from the image you see in the pool. who is
this mockery of humanity staring back at you with
bloodless eyes of shame?
Where is the grace of your manner,the beauty of
your figure, the quickness of your movement, the
clarity of your mind,the brilliance of your tongue?
Who stole your goods? Is the thief"s identity known to
you, as it is to me?
Once you placed your head in a pillow of grass in
your father's field and look up at the cathedral of
clouds and knew that all the gold of babylon would
be yours in time.
Once you read from many books and wrote on
many tablets, convinced beyond any doubt that all
the wisdom of Solomon would be equaled and sur-
passed by you.
And the seasons would flow into years unstill lo, you
would reign supreme in your own garden of Eden.
Dost thou remember who implanted those plans
and dream and seeds of hope within you?
You cannot.
You have no mermory of that moment when first
you emerged from your mother,s womb and I placed
my hand on your soft brow. And the secret I whis-
pered in your small ear when I bestowed my blessings
upon you?
Remember our secret?
You cannot.
The passing years have destroyed your recollec-
tion, for they have filled your mind with fear and
doubt and anxiety and remore and hate and there is
no room for joyful memories where these beasts habi-
tate
Weep no more. I am with you...and this mo-
ment is the divding line of your life. All that has
gone before is like unto no more than that time you
slept within your mother's womb. What is past is
dead. Let the dead bury the dead.
This day you return from living dead
This day, like unto Elijahh with the widow's son, I
stretch myself upon thee three times and you live
again.
This day, like unto Elisha with the Shunammite's
son, I put my mouth upon your mouth and my eyes
upon your eyes and my hands upon your hands and
your flesh is warm again.
This day, like unto Jesus at the tomb of Lazarus, I
command you to come forth and you will walk from
your cave of doom to begin a new life.
This is your birthday. This is your new date of birth.
Your first life, like unto a play of the theatre, was only
a rehearal. This time the curtain is up. This time the
world waches and waits to applaud. This time you
will not fail.
Light your candles, Share your cake. Pour the wine.
you have been reborn.
Like a butterfly from its chrysalis you will fly...
fly as high as you wish, and neither the wasps nor
dragonflies nor mantids of mankind shall obstruct
your mission or your search for the riches of life.
Feel my hand upon thy head.
Attend to my widom.
Let me share with you, again,that you heard
at your birth and forgot.
You are my greatest miracle.
You are my greatest miracle in the world.
Those were the first words you every heard.
then you cry. They all cry.
You did not believe me then...and nothing has
happened in the intervening years to correct your dis-
belief. For how could you be a miracle when you con
sider yourself a failure at the most menial of tasks?
How can you be a miracle when you have little con-
fidence in dealing with the most trival of Reponsi-
bilities? How can you be a miracle when you are
shackled by debt and lie awake in torment over
whence will come tomorrow's bread?
Enough. The milk that spilled is sour. Yet, how
many prophets, how many wise men, how many
poets, how many artists, how many composers, how
m many scientists, how many philosophers and mes-
sengers have I sent with word of your divinity, your
potential for godliness, and the secrets of achieve-
ment? How did you treat them?
Still I love you and I am with you now, through
these words, to fulfill the prophet who announced that
the Lord shall set his hand again, the second time, to
recover the remnant of his people.
I have set my hand again.
This is the second time.
You are my remnant.
It is of no avail to ask, haven't you known, Haven't
you heard, hasn't you understood from the foundation of
the earth?
You have not known; you have not heard; you
have not understood.
You have been told that you are a divinity in dis-
guise, a god playing a fool.
You have been told that you are a special piece of
work, noble in reason, infinite in faculties, expressand,
admirable in form and moving, ilke an angel in action,
like a god in apprehension.
You have been told that you are the salt of the
earth.
You were given the secret even of moving moun-
tains, of peforming the impossiable.
You believed no one. You burned your map to hap-
piness, you abandoned your claim to peace of mind,
you snuffed out the candles that had been placed
along your destined path of glory, and then you stum-
bled, lost and frightened, in the darkness of futility
and self-pitty, until you fell into a hell of your own
creation.
The you cried and beat your breast and cursed
the luck that had befallen you. You refused to accept
the consequences of your own petty thoughts and lazy
deeds and you searched for a scapegoat on which to
blame your failures. How quickly you found one.
You blamed me!
You cried that your handicaps, your mediocrity,
your lack of opportunity, your failures...were the
will of God!
You were wrong!
Let us take inventory, Lets us, first, call a roll of
your handicaps. For how can I ask you to build a new
life lest you have the tools?
Are you blind? Does the sun rise and fall without
your witness?
No. you can see... and the hundred million
receptors I have placed in your eyes enable you to
enjoy the magic of a leaf, a snowflake, a pond, an
eagle, a child, a cloud, a star, a rose, a rainbow...
a and the look of love. Count one blessing.
Are you deaf? Can a baby laugh or cry without your
attention?
No you can hear...and twenty-four thousand
fibers I have built in each of your ears vibarte to the
wind in the trees,the tides on the rocks,the majesty
of an opera, a robin's plea, children at play... and
the words I love you. Count another blessing.
Are you mute? Do your lips move and bring forth
only spittle?
No. You can speak... as can no other of my
creatures, and your words can clam the angry, up-
lift the despondent, goad the quitter, cheer the un-
happy, warm the lonely, praise the worthy, encourage
the defeated, teach the ignorant...and say I love
you. Count another blessing
Are you paralyed? Does your helpless form despoil
the land?
No. You can move. you are not a tree condemned
to a small plot while the wind and world abuse you.
You can strech and run and dance and work, for
within you I have designed five hunder muscles, two
hunred bones and seven miles of nerve fibe all
synchronixed by me to do your bidding. Count an-
other blessing.
Are you unLoved and unloving? Does loneliness en-
gulf you, night and day?
No. no more. For now you know love's secret,
that to receive love it must be given with no thought
ofs it return. To love fulfillment, satisfaction, or
no pride is no love. Love is a gift on which no return is
demanded. Now you know that love thatto love unselfishly is
it own reaward .And even should love not be returned
its is not lost, for love not reciprocated will flow back
to you and soften and purify your heart. Count an-
other bless. Count twice

He say more?

OG

reply back, Love

Elvira

This is great info to know.

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