The Autistic Children [Requestor is Anonymous]

Oh, the dear ones who live in the mist between the worlds. Not fully there, not fully here. A strange paradox for parents and children alike.

It is human to seek answers to this question. This question is actually one of the great ones of your generation. Did you feel that? Did you know that? This challenge has profound meaning for you, and for the next generation.

My dear, go with the flow. Ride the currents of his needs and desires. Allow him a place of safety, a place of hope. When you talk to him, talk freely, but never speak to him or of him in his presence, as if he is anything but the spark of the divine within him.

Your words have tremendous power. When you speak to him, and you speak of him, any time that clarity is not required for clinical purposes, speak the Spiritual Truth of who and what he is. If you will do this, he will reap the rewards of your diligence. And so will you.

Remember that the child is always the harvest of the parents. If the parents have not eaten well, the child's body enters the world with that memory. If the parents have been distressed and filled with dis-ease, the child's biology remembers it. But the greatest and most powerful factor at work in every one of these beautiful children's lives is the words of those around them.

Everything can be changed if these children are told that how they are is right for them. Everything.

If you can speak to him, and of him, as often as possible as if he is perfectly fine, as if he is the spark of the divine that lives within him, then he will rise to the challenge that you offer him. To be that spark. To live that truth.

Do you know that the writer was autistic? In a time when this illness was not so widespread, she experienced it, she lived it. A forerunner of the ones of tomorrow, she was. And today, is her tomorrow. Today, these children are everywhere.

These children are so much more sensitive on every level. And they all carry gifts as grand, or greater than the one you witnessed unfolding in the writer. The difficulty that you have is watching in this time before the unfolding. In doing the daily work of reminding this little one that he is perfect, just as he is.

He is, you know.

Of course you do.

Dear, beloved caretaker. You who protect and guide these Masters of Tomorrow are among the most powerful, mighty Lightworkers on the planet. Your job is a sacred trust. In your hands is the Future. At your knee sits the Promise of Tomorrow.

Do not despair. Do not be disappointed. Do not be impatient. For the fruit of your labor will transcend everything that you can possibly imagine. Now, or ever.

The Highest Priority [Requestor anonymous]

Oh, what a beautiful, brilliant soul you are! Like a grand, sparkling, towering crystalline structure, your soul drifts out far beyond your Earthly presence.

And what a sharp, intelligent mind you have! And what a grand use to which you have put it! Oh yes, your work is honored. You did not know? You did not feel it? You did not see it? You don't sense our pride in you?

Oh, my dear. My Love. How can you be so keen, so sharp, so clear on so many things, and miss the most important and most sacred truth?

Of course I love you! Of course I am proud of you! Oh, child, beautiful one. My heart breaks, it yearns to touch you with a caress of kindness, of depth, of hope, and most of all... of Love.

Will you come away from things for a time? Will you sit and let me Love you?

My dear, your Earthly work is so important! How well you know this! Too well, in fact. You are burdened with duty. You are saddled with responsibility. You are weighted by the pressing needs of your every-day life.

My love, your soul needs to be filled with the knowledge that I love you. Come, let me refill the Soul within you, which cries out for understanding.

Dearest, there is no work, in all the world, anywhere, that is more important than the human soul.

Your soul.

The Worker [Requestor anonymous]

Hello, my dear. I am pleased to be allowed to speak with you today. You are so wise and beautiful. Did you know?

You have forged many roads in life. You have been amongst the first to go many places spiritually. Has it not been a grand journey? I have watched you with joy, with honor, and with great excitement.

But it has been lonely at times, hasn't it, my dearest?

I have always been here. I have always stood beside you. I have always walked with you. I love you.

You have brought so much knowledge to light in the world! Do you know? Do you sense our pride in you? You are a great gift to the world, and we are so happy, so honored, so glad that you have stayed here to do this difficult work.

You have had opportunities to leave. Each and every time, you have stayed. You have stood strong throughout it all. For this, there is much honor for you here.

When, at the end of your long life, you return Home and stand before us, you will be surprised to see us kneel and wash your feet. The Honored Human returns.

You, Beloved. You.

Dancing With Angels [Requestor Anonymous]

My dear one. You are not who you were. You are not what has happened to you. You are not the past. You are not even this Earthly name that identifies you to the other Humans.

Do you know why you waited until now to request words for you? Because today, today I speak of male energies. Today is the day when I talk of balancing genders.

Why is this important to you? You ask this because you still, despite the first thing I said to you, see yourself as what has happened to you. What a man does to you does not make you into someone else.

Dearest, beloved one. Look deep into yourself. Search for the divine spark of your Spirit. Go ahead, my Love. I will wait.

Sit down. Make yourself comfortable. Find who you are, instead of what has happened to you.

It is easy to say what has happened to you. It is easy to lose who you really are, by getting caught up in where you've been, and where you're going, and how you got where you are, or how you'll get where you're going.

But this journey, dear, is not about any of that. Put your yesterdays away. Open a box, and put your yesterdays safely inside of it. Pat it lovingly. These journeys taught you, they forged you, and as such, they are deserving of a loving pat. Now, when you are done, my dearest, put the box away.

Open the next box. Inside of it, put your tomorrows. All the imaginings, all the fears of impending disaster, all the hopes for the future, into the same box. Close it. Pat it. Tape it up. Kiss it good-bye, and put the box away.

Take my hand now. Feel me lift yours to my lips. Feel the brush of my lips against the back of it, and feel my wings tremble in joy that you grant me such an honor as to be allowed to kiss your hand. Listen to the sigh of my ephemeral breath as it whispers past your cheek.

My dear, do not be afraid. You are not alone. I am always near you, and I am genuinely moved to compassion for you.

I am neither male nor female, but a melding of both. A balance. The point of the fulcrum.

It doesn't matter to me, whether you are a man, or a woman. I love you just as much. And if you will look deep into your heart, if you will find that divine spark inside of you, the Spirit of your Self, you will find there someone fantastic. Someone beautiful.

It is good to be a man. Men have many great things to offer. They are strong, and strong-willed. They are steadfast, they are genuine. When they are being true to themselves.

But my dearest one, listen to me a moment, in quiet solitude. Not all men are always true to themselves. This is true of all Humans. It is true of every human, but not always true in each moment.

And sometimes when someone is predominantly not true to their divine spark, it's easy to forget that it is there. When someone does something wretched or horrible, Humans forget, so easily, what that person is really like.

I know you. I know you in your brightest moments, and in your darkest hours. And not for one instant, not for an iota of time, did I cease to love you.

Remember this, my precious and beautiful child. The angels never forget the Divine Spark inside of you. And we love you because we know your best, your worst, and everything in between. And still, even in your darkest rage or greatest pain, we see you gleaming with a light of beauty and hope that outshines a thousand suns.

That divine spark inside of you? It's not separate. It's you. It's your true self.

It is balanced, male and female. Like me.

So come, precious and beautiful one. Sit in silence while I kiss your hand, and then stand up and dance with me.

I think perhaps a waltz, don't you?

Male and Female [Requestor is anonymous]

The Earth is a blend of the male, and the female. In some animal societies, the male dominates. In some, the female dominates.

Does this mean that one should always have dominion over the other, simply because it appears so in the world? Should the struggle between men and women continue, does it have a place, a purpose, a meaning?

For many thousands of years, the answer to that question was yes. Of course it has purpose and meaning. But things are changing.

Do you want to change the world? Do you want to see things be made new? Are you prepared to graduate into the next level of History?

If you would see the world change, alter forever into a better place, then it is time to set aside any need for dominion. The male should not dominate. This is true. Nor, however, should the female.

My love, in all areas of life, there is but one single way to bring harmony into being. One must acknowledge the good in male and female. One must accept that they are different, so that one can find their similarities and compliments.

Everything that seems opposite is really simply part of the whole that gives it all meaning. And within every opposite, there are compliments to its partner. This is what must be found and cultivated in order to become whole.

You can begin this process of integration. You can keep the world from crossing the boundary between male dominance and entering into female dominance.

It is your right to take up this life work. Or to set it down, and allow female dominance to emerge.

Before you decide to allow that, I ask of you only this. Ponder it with sincere attempt to see the good in Men. Think before you make the choice, and do it with deep curiousity and conviction to find the good.

Harmony will not be found while any people are oppressed, my love. Ever.

Consider this before you dedicate yourself to a life path.

This is the work that was set here for you to do. Another will take up the mantle later if you choose not to. There is no judgment in leaving the mantle for someone else. But my dearest, my love... there is no joy in doing that, either.

And oh, how I wish for you great joy, fulfillment, and satisfaction!

Consider taking up the mantle of your work. Will you, my dear one? Will you at least consider it?

You are dearly loved, and your choice is honored, no matter what you choose. Because you are loved beyond what you can imagine.

A Star Amongst the Pricklies [Sharun]

My glorious and magnificent treasure. My pear amongst the pricklies. The beautiful flower that sleeps amidst the thorns.

How beloved you are. Can you feel it? Do you see it?

We are gathered around you now. The angels wrapping our wings around you, do you feel us flutter?

Glorious star, shining through all the clouds of life. Marvelous gemstone, gleaming and sprinkling the world with little drops of joy. Everywhere you go...

Did you think these things were holding you back from some special calling? Did you think that you should be doing something more, something bigger, something extra?

I cannot imagine it, but I think you believe that there is something better than being you! You tarry, you wander, you walk alone. You look around you, and there are so many places you want to be, so many people you wish you were.

But my dear one. My beloved. They do not have the drops of joy to sprinkle in the world. Their hands are empty of the pearls that only you possess. No flowers bloom at their feet. No crystalline beauty shines from their hearts. Not like yours.

Do not let covetousness divert or confuse you. You do not need to be as others are. Because you are who YOU are, and not who they are!

I have not made a mistake. I have made you perfectly suited to sprinkly joy upon the thorns. To sparkle like a star. To shine in all the dark nights. Every one of them.

Every one.

On Being King [Requestor is anonymous]

This was requested by a pregnant woman for her unborn child. I guess I've got some work to do here, eh?

By the time that your child is born, this will be made into a picture book, dear one. You shall read it to him often. By the time he can speak, he will know all of the words by heart. Do not fail in this, for in the mysteries of this story, lies his destiny, which only he can unlock.

And so it begins:

In the forest lived a mighty lion.

The lion's best friend was a butterfly.

Mr. Lion and Mr. Butterfly would often have tea and cake together. They were the best of friends, even though Mr. Lion was awful busy being the King of the Jungle.

Every day, Mr. Lion would visit the forest animals. He would visit Mr. and Mrs. Mouse, and ask how they were.

Then, he would find Miss Bunny, and make sure that she was doing okay. Each time, he decided not to eat her. At least for today.

He would make sure that the herd of deer was still there, and together.

And even Mr. and Mrs. Wolf got a visit from their King.

Mr. Butterfly loved to go with Mr. Lion on these trips through the forest. It made him feel like he was part of things. Like he was important. He felt fulfilled, just doing that.

And as Mr. Lion watched over the forest creatures, Mr. Butterfly went with him.

Mr. Lion was a very good King. He watched over his people, and he didn't even eat them. Well, not very often, anyway.

But Mr. Bear didn't like Mr. Lion very much. You see, Mr. Bear thought he should be King, not Mr. Lion.

One day, as Mr. Lion was visiting the forest creatures, Mr. Bear followed him. You see, Mr. Bear had set out a trap. He had dug a pit, and he waited for Mr. Lion to fall into it.

As soon as Mr. Lion was in the pit, Mr. Bear shouted down to him, "You are trapped, and now I will eat all the forest creatures that you were too foolish to eat when you had the chance! I will be King of the forest now!"

Mr. Lion tried and tried to get out of the pit. Over and over again, he jumped, trying, trying to get out. But he could not. He was stuck there.

Mr. Butterfly watched all of this, and knew for sure what he must do.

Mr. Butterfly started to flutter his wings as fast as he could go. He went to Mr. and Mrs. Mouse and whispered in their ears. As he left, he heard Mrs. Mouse exclaim, "Oh dear!"

Then he went to Mr. Wolf, and Miss bunny. On and on through the whole forest he went, whispering in everyone's ears.

Meanwhile, at the pit where Mr. Lion was trapped, something strange began to happen. All of the forest creatures began to gather, and they began to drop bits and pieces of wood into the pit.

Hurrying, and scurrying, they ran quickly to grab some more. Even the tiny ants came and helped. And as time went by, more animals arrived. They dropped more and more wood into the pit.

Pretty soon, Mr. Lion was able to climb right out.

As soon as he was out, Mr. Lion gave a mighty roar! The animals trembled in fear and ran away! Was Mr. Lion going to eat them, they had just saved him!

No, Mr. Lion did not eat any forest creature that day. Instead, he began to run very very fast. He zoomed through the forest, until he found Mr. Bear.

Mr. Lion was very angry with Mr. Bear! He rushed Mr. Bear, and they began to fight. At last, Mr. Lion won the fight, and Mr. Bear ran away to a different forest.

Dear one, remember this. When you treat those who fear you with great respect and love, they will be there in your time of trouble. They will work hard for you, and they will save you.

Sure, they may spend their days hurrying and scurrying and not think of you. But when the time comes that you need them, you will be very surprised at who will show up, simply because you always treated them well and did your best.

No one wants Mr. Bear to become king of the jungle.

And remember, too. When someone treats you well, and they need your help, you should be there. Don't leave someone alone, without help when you have some to offer.

Because if you do, you may find yourself being eaten by Mr. Bear.

The Broken Egg [Requestor is anonymous]

The strength of lions, and the pride of the ages.

For the conception to come to fruition, the union must be one of love, not duty. When the pistol and the stamen meet, there can be no fruit if the egg is broken.

Flowers to not grow FROM thorns, dear one. They can grow in the midst of them, but they do not come from them. If you wish for a fledgling to feed, you must find your inner strength, and forgive truly.

Nurture your forgiveness like a frightened doe or a scurrying mouse. Sheild it from the wolf. Keep your ears tuned like a rabbit for the sound of the arrow that would pierce your heart. The arrow of your own angry thoughts.

Do not let this negativity encroach. It is ruining everything. It is turning crystalline love to ashes. It is making what should be love into a caricature of it.

It should have Spiritual logic to you that you will not reproduce with someone for whom you hold rage in your heart. Indeed, it should make simple, common, mundane sense to you. There is no logic to the belief that you can bring forth joy from anger.

It is not your partner who is oppressed, it is your own heart. Your own hopes. Your own dreams. Remember the words of the great Teacher? "Unforgiveness is like drinking poison and expecting the other person to die."

My dear, I do not ask for your forgiveness of him for his sake. I ask for YOURS and for YOUR CHILDREN'S sake. Do you not want to bring your life together?

I love you. I love you so truly, so deeply, so incredibly. I want to see you living a life of fulfillment, of joy, of harmony and synthesis.

But this cannot happen when you cling to your rightous anger. Your anger breaks the eggs.

A broken egg cannot bring forth life, beloved. Ever.

What History Teaches [Requestor is anonymous]

An ancient temple stands on a hill. Long since abandoned, it towers amidst the wreckage of its ancient secrets.

If these pillars could speak, they would tell tales of yore. Stories of those passed into the Ether so long ago that the Humans alive today cannot even fathom the span of time.

And the actors and actresses who walked this stage those long years ago, would speak through the stone, if only they could. But they have long since moved on, and their voices are cold and still now. The tomb of their culture stands mute and silent, silhouetted against a dying sky.

The occassional tourist meanders quietly through the fallen stones, mere tokens of the former glory of this place.

One might look at it and see history lost. Or perhaps see a testament to the destructive nature of mankind. One might look upon this place and despair.

But there is an alternative, dear one. There is another choice.

When you look at this grand, cathedral-like ruin, can you not see the memories, the ghosts of days passed? Can you dance in the ruins, reverent yet joyful? Can you look upon it and see the wonder, the grandeur of the ones whose hands raised these momumental stones?

Can you look at life through the lens of joy, instead of the lens of loss? Rather than see the ruins as they stand today, can you open your mind to encompass the beauty which once was? Can you gave in awe and rapture at the wonders that man could create long before the arrival of modern technology?

Can you appreciate without judgement?

Can you see the golden history, the golden desire of mankind for beauty? Can you see the golden joy beneath the dross?

Can you, my Love?

[Requestor is anonymous]

The scorpion's sting can be deadly, even to the human. Humans, who are many thousands of times larger than the scorpion's prey. It is the perfect example of a small creature whose influence is mighty. Indeed, many snakes are poisonous, yet even those are many thousands of times bigger than the diminutive scorpion.

Contrary to the scorpion, however, your ability to influence lives is not based upon destroying them. Indeed, if you will pick up the mantle of your true calling, and stop living in fear, dear one, you will throw light into darkness, washing it away with the mighty glow of your sunlike and beautiful personality.

You labor currently under the delusion that you are limited in strength, limited in ability. You are limited only because you accept the limits forced upon you by people in your past. "You will never amount to anything."

These words, spoken in anger, you took into your deepest heart. The words meant to hurt only because the speaker was hurting, you believed. You trusted their opinion of you, despite some part of you that screamed in protest.

This is your time, dear one. Today is the day, and now is the time. Stand up, burst out of the frames put upon you. Throw off the yoke of fear, throw off the yoke of other people's anger.

Grasp your hope with your right hand. Grasp your truth with your left hand. Let your love well up inside you! Let it expand, expand, EXPAND across the world! Let it beam out of you like a mighty sun! Let it burst forth into being, rising like the great cumulus cloud into the vast skies!

My love, many have expressed disappointment in you. In your stature, in your status in life, in every area of your being.

But oh, my dear, not I! I am so proud of you that my love for you, my pride in you, my joy at your accomplishments resounds through the heavens like a powerful and mighty gong!

Rise up, beloved! Be yourself! Be TRUE! Be!

Come on, dearest, Now is the time.

I will be with you, every step of the way. I will love you, guide you, and I will hold you in angel's wings. Be the man you are, and not the man others have made!

[Requestor is anonymous]

There once was a cat named Little Faith. Little Faith was a beautiful cat. She was a deep, rich, beautiful black.

But Little Faith wanted to be all the colors of the rainbow. She thought that rainbows were so much more beautiful than simple black.

Little Faith was waiting at the pet store for someone to love her and take her home. But every day, another animal would get chosen, and Little Faith had to stay at the pet store.

Someone took home the pretty green snake. Someone took home the lovely orange tabby cat. Someone took home the blue parakeet.

But even though many came to look at Little Faith, not one of them took her home. Every night, in the dark and quiet pet store, Little Faith would cry, and ask God, "Why doesn't anyone love me?"

Every night, in the quiet pet store, the angels would gather around Little Faith. They would feel her soft fur. They would listen to her beautiful song as she purred. They would watch her graceful movements. And every night, ever one of them would say, "Dear Little Faith, we love you so dearly!"

And every night, Little Faith would say, "I know, but you don't count. You're angels, you're supposed to love me." The angels were very, very sad that their love didn't count to Little Faith. They cried great angel tears. Little Faith didn't notice, she was too busy crying her own tears, because she wasn't loved.

Disappointed that the cat hadn't sold, the manager of the pet store came to Little Faith's pen, and put a "Sale" sign on her. Still, person after person came and looked at the black kitty, and bought other, more colorful animals.

One day, a little boy came into the store. He was dirty and scruffy. His hair had twigs in it, and he just didn't look very good. Plus, he was obviously poor. He came straight to her cage, and he said, "Oh, how beautiful you are! I prayed and prayed for a beautiful black kitty!" He reached into her cage, and Little Faith hissed at him, and clawed his hand.

The little boy cried, and left the store. That night, Little Faith cried again, because no one loved her, still. The angels gently asked her, "What of the little boy that wanted you today?"

Little Faith said, "He doesn't count, he was dirty and poor. I'm sure he wouldn't have been a good friend."

Gently, the angels said to her, "Dear one, there is love all around you. If you will accept it, it will only increase. But you keep rejecting the love that is offered. Will you please accept the little boy's love tomorrow?"

And Little Faith agreed, tomorrow, if the little boy returned, she would accept his love.

Tomorrow came, and the little boy entered the store. When he got close to Little Faith's cage, Little Faith purred for him, her very best purr. Then, as he reached inside her cage, she rubbed her head on his hand, and did her best kitty smile for him.

The little boy bought her, and took her to his home. Little Faith heard him tell his brother and sister, "I have the most perfect kitty in the world! I don't know why, but she was on sale, can you believe it!"

The little boy brought Little Faith into his bed, and he curled up with her. He petted her, and sang to her. He loved on her until at last, he fell asleep, with his arm around her still.

All night long, Little Faith purred for him. When morning came, the little boy carried Little Faith into the kitchen, and fed her from his own dish of food, going a little hungry so that she could eat well.

All day, the little boy showed her off. He loved her, and was so proud of her. Little Faith had never felt so loved in her life.

But the family was not supposed to have pets. Their landlord came to visit. The little boy told Little Faith, "Please hide, dearest, or the landlord will take you away!" Little Faith ran and hid in the dark shadows under the bed.

When the landlord looked there, all he saw was darkness. Satisfied, the landlord left.

The little boy told Little Faith, "Oh, I'm so glad that you're a black kitty! If I had bought that ugly green snake, the landlord would have seen you! If I had bought the parakeet, the landlord would have heard you! You are so perfect!"

That night, the angels came to visit again. They asked Little Faith how she was. She said to them, "I'm so glad you are here. Thank you for loving me enough to help me accept the love of the little boy."

The angels smiled, and gave her an angel hug. "My dear little Faith. All we ever wanted for you, was for you to feel the love that is being offered to you, every minute of every day. And for you to see that you are perfect as you are!"

Non-laminate Messages

For $5.00, you can get the Messages on Stationery, without lamination.

See below for sample, or for more information on lamination. Thank you!

For Oprah

Someone recommended I send her a Message. So I did. Here it is:

My Love, how obedient you have been! So many times, I reached out to you, and told you to go a different way. Each time, you obeyed. And oh, how many lives you have changed!

I am so proud of you, beloved! I walk every day beside you. I stand before you, behind you, and beside you. And how I adore you!

You are like the small ivory figurine of childhood. So tiny, so pearlescent, so beautiful. Your heart is a song that echoes amongst the stars.

It is not logical that you should ask if I love you. Of course I love you. Of course I am proud of you, my dearest child. Your heart is beyond reproach.

Your sensitivity and beauty, which injured you so much as a child, have made you a woman of grace, beauty, and wonder. When I look at you, I see how you have come full circle into the seasons of your heart.

I see you truly. I see you as no one else can see you. And oh, my love, you are grand! You are magnificent!

May I simply tell you that I love you? May I wrap you in the warm embrace of angels' wings?

I have captured all of your tears, blessed one. The currency of the cosmos. Beautiful beyond compare.

And I sit with you before the fire, simply loving you, my dear and beautiful child, whom I love.

I am so proud of you, beautiful and dear heart. I am so very proud.

Your obedience and beauty have already changed the World. Do you see it? Can you feel it?

You are dearly loved.

Jeremy

When the dogs howl in the middle of the night, it is often because they are honoring the souls of their Human friends. From the vast concrete and steel jungles of the great cities, to the praries and streams and forests, the dogs howl to remember Humans.

Those people you love who have passed away are never forgotten. And they are sometimes mourned by the most unexpected of beings. When your heart is most broken, when the mirror reflects only tears back to you, when deep heart pain seems to be the only constant in your life, remember this.

You are dearly and deeply loved. Think about it for a time. Be honest with yourself. Does it make logical sense that your dear one ceases to exist?

Your scientists now know for a fact that the basic building block of Matter is Energy.

Your scientists have always known beyond the shadow of a doubt, that Energy cannot be created or destroyed. It is obvious, is it not, that your loved ones must go on in some fashion?

I have a question for you, and it is a very important question. There is an accepted answer already, but the accepted answer is as true as "the Earth is flat."

The question I wish for you to consider, and perhaps one day even to prove the astounding and "unbelievable" answer to is exactly this, "Which comes first, the Thought, or the electronic impulse in the brain?" and "Does the electronic impulse in the brain create thought, or does thought create the electronic impulse in the brain?"

Find the answer, dear one. And you will change everything.

[This Requestor is anonymous]

On the shores of a deep lake, in the distant mountains, stands a cabin. From the chimney flows billows of fragrant smoke.

Inside, an artist sits. Her talent seems dead to her. A distant memory. She weeps as she looks out the window at the idyllic scene of the lake. Sorrow and loss have broken her, she believes. She will never paint again, she swears.

She isolates herself. She hides and cries. She seeks the solace of sorrow.

But there is hope for this beloved, dear human. If she will but rise up, shake off the mire of the misery, and walk outside and commune with me again, I will fill her broken heart to overflowing. I will love her, hold her close, wrap her in my wings.

I will flood her with the power, the unfathomable depths, of my compassion. I do not hate her. I could not hate her. Such a thing is beyond impossible.

When hopes and dreams fall from the exalted tower of hope, and shatter on the ground, it is not as it seems. Nothing, beloved, is as it seems. Where the blackbird sings, there is hope.

The artist is bottled up like a beta in a bowl. But not by my choosing. Never, ever, by my choosing. I would wish for you to fly free. Unfettered. Filled with joy, hope, and peace. Live with harmony, beloved.

Come outside, and let me love you.

For I do. Truly.

Unknown

This Message may be for YOU:

I definitely have a message for you, it has been waiting for the right moment to rush to your heart!

I dream of daisies and long cotton underwear, and I remember how they itch! (humor)

I think of you often. I miss your incisive wit. I miss your gentle touch. I miss the energy you used to radiate to me. I miss sitting beside you and drinking a smoothie (so tasty!). I miss the white roses from the windowsill. I miss tasting each new drink together.

I always acted strong, as if I didn't need you. But I did. I wore many masks, the wounded one, the mighty one, the angry one. I never reached out the way I should have.

I know I never did so well. But if I can just tell you, my love for you was real. It was pure. Perhaps the only pure thing I ever had. But like the venom of a snake, my addictions ate my soul.

Now that the writer has found her voice, I can speak to you of these things. For I am not as I used to be, and could not come through in the usual way. I knew you needed to hear it. I knew you needed to feel my love, without the pain it used to bring.

I admire your great strength and beauty.

Please forgive me.

[This Requestor is Anonymous]

What is this place called Universe, in which we all live, move, and have our Being? And more importantly, my love, what is your place within it? Your grand design. The great purpose for which you were made?

Dearest, there is nothing for you to achieve. There is no signpost which states, "This is Home for Tasha."

My dear, there is no "Home" for the Humans on Earth. Oh, yes, indeed, Earth is a phenomenal place! It is magnificent, lovely, and beyond reproach. The Spirit which indwells it is admirable beyond what your words can contain.

But my love, trust me when I tell you, your home is on this side. It is among the Angels. To search for Home amongst the Earthly places is meaningless. It is as if you seek for whales on a mountaintop!

Please, beloved, have faith that all is as it should be. Do you remember? Have you seen me say it? There are no mistakes! You are meant to be Human. You were not a tragedy, you were not a joke.

How could you even think it!!

Of course you remember Home and long for it. Do you know the dear writer has tried not once, not twice, but three times to escape the confines of this life? She, too, felt strongly the essence, the memory, the unending tug of Home.

Dear, upon this Earth, life truly is a play. But it is a play that has not yet been written. Each and every day, each and every Human, writes the latest chapter in the evolution of the Universe. Your place on the stage, writing the play, is among the most important in the entire Universe.

Can you find the strength to continue? Can you look around you and find beauty and hope in life here? It is not that we do not want you Home, darling, dearest, most magnificent one. Oh, we do!

Just as you long for us, we long for you!

But we each have a mission. This mission was given to us by the Grand One. By the one we Serve. By the mighty angel. In fact, my dear, this angel is vast, grand, and so tremendous that we cannot find words to explain her to you.

So Mighty is she, that her full and complete name is known to everyone throughout the entire Universe. In the fullness of her Glory, she outshines the sun, outweighs the Earth, and has a beauty that is unspeakable, indescribable, overwhelming.

She bade us to follow this diminutive, small and seemingly insignificant Human. Everywhere that this Human went, we were to go. In everything this Human did, we were to support her.

When she wept, we were to gather her precious tears, the eternal and priceless currency of the cosmos.

We were to see this Human through her lifetime. To aid her, guide her, but above all else, were to Love her through the years, every moment.

If you return home, we will have failed her, this mighty one, this magnificent one, this beautiful, valiant, treasured one.

We will have failed you, Beloved.

A request for your assistance

I would greatly appreciate it if folks would email me at amris.art at gmail.com and tell me your thoughts when you read your own Message, or when you read others Messages, etc. It will be in the book, and you may tell me how you'd like it put (anonymously, by a username, or by your RL name- all are fine).

Furthermore, I am looking for someone to write a Forward to the book. I don't know at all how to describe what I'm doing here, and I thought perhaps someone else would be better suited to do it.

I really appreciate any and all help/comments/etc.