Making a Collage of Love

Beautiful, beautiful is My Creation. Beautiful, beautiful are you Who are My Creation. I painted a painting of you and blew My painting onto Earth. I gave you beauty. I gave you motion. I gave you yourself, and I gave you free will. I gave you willingly and happily. I gave you to Me to look it. Do you think I don't admire My handiwork?

It must be, however, that you admire My art somewhat less than I do. I heard tell that you even find fault with it now and again or all the time. How can that be? And yet, oh, My beloveds, it is true. Where I find beauty, you may find fault. I say "may find fault" because I am courteous. If I were not courteous, I might say that you do find fault.

Never mind that. That is the past, and you are learning by choice or by no choice, to give up on the past, or, at least, not to hold on to it so dearly.

Today you are new. If not new, you are renewed. You are renewable every day. So, come into an Arbor of Beauty with Me. This is where you and your heart and mind belong. They belong with Me.

Come, see the sights of the world as I see. Let your eyes that see beauty make the world all-beautiful.

Molecules and atoms and the whirling and spiraling are not seen by the naked eye, and yet you can see beauty right now without a microscope. Love has a great bearing on what you see. Love sees with the eyes of love, and that makes all the difference in the world.

Beauty may or may not be skin-deep, and yet beauty is. Seeing beauty puts a rose on your cheeks and a spring in your step. Will you lean towards beauty? Will you squint your eyes a little to see it?

If you do not feel able at present to see all beauty, then see the beauty in parts, in pieces, as if you were making a collage of love, and loving the collage you are assembling. Your eyes assemble a collage of beauty. You are choosing the door you go through. The door is labeled. It has a sign on it that says Beauty. There are other doors with various labels, but who would want to go through them? You already know their names, and you have gone through those doors often enough without any encouragement.

Now I ask you to open the door called Beauty, and never leave.

In moments of humility, you will see the grandeur of all that I have made. You will see the beauty of a frog. You already have, haven't you? Those eyes that pop. The design of its skin, warts and all. Who but I could have thought of a frog, and Who but I could have thought of you and molded you into clay and breathed life into you?

And now I ask you to see with My eyes.

You see how beautiful your child's painting with poster paints is. You don't try to see. You do see. You see all the love splashed onto paper. It takes no effort. It takes love, and the steadying influence of the intention to love, the platform of love, the building blocks of love, the liveliness of love, the focus of love, the gorgeousness of love, for love and beauty are inseparable, just as you and I are inseparable, separable only in illusion, just as, in illusion, love and beauty are pulled apart as if they didn't belong together.