God said:

I love you. There is nothing else for Me to do. I love you with the love you
are made of. I formed you from the clay of My love. My hands made you. My heart
made you. I did not mold you out of thin air. I molded you from the expression
of My heart. My heart is infinite, as is yours. Made from My heart of gold, what
can you be but the gold of My heart?

Clay or gold makes no difference. The clay of My heart is gold. I gave you
Myself. I molded Myself and planted Myself everywhere. And you are Myself.

You may tend to think that I am very far away from you when, all the while, I
am the Intimate of you. If I am your Intimate Being, I am the
individual who sits before Me now. I am Vastness, and so are you. No matter how
squeezed your heart may be, it is My heart in you that you are squeezing.
Unsqueeze your heart, and know I am God. I am not far away. I am the closest
thing to you there is. A heart of gold is a heart of love. I am restating your
identity. You are nothing but a heart of love, a heart and soul of love, of
light, that is always on and never flashes off, not even for a blink of an
eye.

You see otherwise, short-sighted as you are. Open your eyes wide, and there
is nothing in all existence but you and Me. We are It. We are hearts joined at
the hip, as it were. We are One wonderful jug of wine. We are not a piece of
cake. We are the cake entire. Of course, We are not located. We are not glued
somewhere. We are not glued. We are everywhere and no place at all because space
does not exist. We are never locked in. We are never out of time or ever in it.
Anything but Our love is illusion. Anything but the Oneness of Love is doodling.

Love in Heaven was made concrete on Earth. This is all that has happened.
From My heart, you were formed gold. You understand that gold is not the metal
gold I speak of. I can only speak in metaphor, and yet no metaphor exists. There
is nothing to compare love to because there is nothing but the One Gold of Love.
It is an illusion that you are not love. It can only be a made-up thing that you
are loveless. You are loveful. You are nothing else but love. You are the whole
shebang.

Consider that you are a boomerang of Me. You always come back to Me who is
Yourself. You send yourself, and you return. You always come back perfectly. Of
course, I speak in metaphor because there is nothing else to speak in. Even
though there is nothing to compare love to, I express love in words. Each word
is a flower that grows. Do you see what I mean that all speech is metaphor? We
speak in the illusion that we can demarcate love. The world is rife with
metaphor.

Life exists as love, and anything else has been made up. We try to express
the inexpressible. And We keep trying to express the love that alone exists.
Love does not know how to find the words to sum it up. Of course, the sum is
One. One is the total arithmetic in the world. One is never repeated. It simply
is.