Purest white and these words fail to describe the perfect reflection of grace.
White as pure as white is, purity as white as can be. In its shades, stars of brilliance give the flavor of existence and being.
I AM here again. I AM THAT I AM. I remember by knowing that which I AM, existence out of Time, in the cleanest form encased by the being of creation.
A question. I feel it.
Are there any questions…o — f creation…
I have one, and it flows from my creation to the being of the I AM THAT I AM.
Was it all real, or was it an illusion? I ask.
And there is no seeing, only knowing. I know this by feeling the joyous smile. I AM THAT I AM, the Son of God, His only begotten Son. So pure, so true, so…beautifully here.
No answer. His lack of response brings silence to the being of Us.
I think from my being, and to Him, I sigh. His lack of answer is His way of giving me a choice, and this choice is one that He does not interfere with, for that is true Love.
I will go again.
He does not want to; he only lets. He does not want me to try again; He lets me try again to learn. I want, and I have created a riddle for myself from this wanting. He smiles His Love to me as He knows the mystery must be solved. The unknown is why I continue to go back, Time after Time.
And now the moment is here. It is not yet Time, but close. There is no time in THIS, and it is almost Time to leave this pure space and form of existence. He assures me without words:
You will be here again. Always. It is alright, my Son. This is all because of you. In THIS, you are the only Son.
I receive this gift of truth.
You are THAT I AM, Father.
And I am This. And This is That, my Son. He smiles again.
Always smiling, He is. Love is all He is. Love is This, and This Loves That.
I will tell them this Time, Father. I promise. I love you.
He laughs his Love to me. I begin to leave.
A promise is eternal, my Son. And sometimes it will be hard to remember, but I am always here, and always there. I AM THAT I AM. And so are you. Know this.
Sadness emerges from my being. But I want to…
It is not real, He says. Just be what you are, and they will remember; because they are That too. When they remember, they will know they are I AM.
His Love comforts my growing sadness. But some of them will…
But you remember when you did not remember when you did not know This As It Is. You were just as they are when they do not remember. I AM the only real thing, my Son. And so are they. Only real things can accept Love.
Love. Love is all that is real.
He is right. He always is.
I consciously drift from the whitest purity. Thank you, Father. His loving smile radiates through me as I fall into the increasing darkness.
