Morning Wakeup Call Message
November 12, 2002

   

Good morning, I am Sananda, and I welcome you to my world. This is a world of plenty and beauty. It is a world where you have been many times, and yet you have left this world and gone back to the place on which you reside at this moment.

I have been to the place where you live, and I have been able to come to this place and stay. This is the place where you can come back to and stay, if you choose. You have a whole lifetime of memories of this place, for it is the diving off place from which you return to the position you populate to learn the lessons and experience the energies that you create while on the planet Earth.

This is a place where the meek live, as well as the strong, for there is really no difference. The meek are not weak, but full of wisdom of the simplicity of things. It is said that the meek shall inherit the earth. This is the truth of it, for when one realizes that the simplicity is the way to Heaven one is walking in the recollection of God.

I give to you the promise of the almighty in the promise of eternal peace. This is the secret that is not a secret in the halls of the place in which I reside. When I say I reside here, I use the term figuratively, for there is a difference in the perception of residence here. Allow the thought to sit in your beingness for a while, and see where it takes you in your memories of the Holiness of this place. Then take that with you into the day you are starting on earth. See how that changes things.

I am going to tell you a story now, of a person who left this place and vowed to return only when his task was complete on earth. This man took himself to the darkest part of the land and took up residence in a small hut on the fringe of the village that lay smack in the middle of that land.

Each morning when the sun came up the man rose and greeted the warmth of the Light. He found the villagers to be lazy and lay in bed for most of the morning, and then they dragged themselves out to the day and wallowed around in their misery till the darkness overcame the Light. Then the villagers seemed to come to life. They gathered at the local winery and drank till the wee hours of the morn. Their frivolity carried on to the other villages where the same activity took place.

One day the man took himself to the winery in the evening. He stepped up to the table and sipped from the glass that was offered. The people were all happy and boisterous, and the place was alive with laughter. The man soon drained his glass, and asked for another. Soon that glass was empty as well. At the end of the evening, while the villagers where all going strong the man felt weak and forlorn. He had partaken of more than he could handle, and hurried to the door feeling ill. When the fresh air hit him he fell forward and lay upon the ground in his own misery.

After several hours, the villagers left the winery, and stumbled upon the man as he lay inert in their path. “What is he doing in our place of festivity, I thought he had gone to his bed long ago?” The villagers helped him up and carried him home to his door. There they left him and wished him well. He stumbled into his hut and cleaned himself up before falling into his bed.

The sun rose to greet him, but he slept still and long. When the sun stood high in the sky, and the villagers came to see him, they found he was just rising, and holding his sick head in his hands. I know not what came over me, he mumbled. How do you do this every day, and still walk around with a smile on your face?

One of the villagers did not know that he had a smile, and asked why.

The man said, “I see you every day after you rise late and you are of happy face. Why do I bear such a burden after taking the route you take in your life?”

My dear man, we have been doing this for as long as we can remember, and longer. You have just only one night’s memory of this. Can you see how the difference brings on the smile?

I can only see that I am miserable doing the same thing you all do. That makes me the outcast, instead of you. How can I go back to the place I came from, and hold my head high as I explain to them why I failed?”

If you feel you failed then perhaps you didn’t spend enough time in this place,” said the villager. “Perhaps you would find that spending more time with us and telling us of your times in that other place would give you the solace that you seek.”

The man thought a bit, then announced, “I shall come into the village and share what I know. When is a good time for you?”

“I’d say the good time would depend on your pleasure,” replied the villager. There is no difference for us.

The man thought a bit then exclaimed, “I know that best time for me is when the sun rises on another new day! Can you all give me a morning to the pleasures of the other place where I came from?”

The villagers all agreed, and when the next morning came around they were all there, bright-eyed and ready. The man asked how they managed to be there bright and fresh after all the frivolity of the night.

We decided to wait till after the lesson, then we will celebrate the coming of the high sun in the day, retiring in the eve of the darkness to be fresh for the next lesson. You have come with a new song, and a new story, and we have longed in our hearts for the change.

The man took the chair near the door, and the others sat round on the grass. The sun warmed their backs and the birds cheered their lessons as the morning wore on to the high sun. Then the villagers jumped to their feet and ran laughing to the winery. There they lifted their glasses high, and pronounced the man their savior, for he had brought the change they had longed for. They laughed into the early eve, and when the darkness came upon them, they scurried to their beds and slept long and hard through the night and the wee hours. Then just before dawn they rose and hurried to the man’s hut just on the fringe of the village.

Alas, the man was gone. He was nowhere to be found. Someone whispered, “He must have gone back from whence he came. He spoke of that place with such reverence. What do we do now that he has brought us the change and now he is gone?”

The man waited in the shadows of the tree by the side of the hut. He heard their words and their sorrow. How can I not go there and give them the next lesson? I have so much to share with them?

The angel beside him whispered, “You have given them so much in your coming, now give them more in your departure. There is a part of you that will never leave, for you have given them the way to the change.”

Even as the angel was speaking the last words, and they were returning to the place from which they had come, the man turned and saw that the villagers stayed at the door of the hut, and one of them sat in his chair. A circle formed around him, and they all listened and joined in the sharing that took place that morn, till the sun was high in the sky.

As the man saw the last glimpse of the village, he heard the whisper of words in his heart, “This is the change we’ve been praying for, shall we go on and find the memories that lay in our hearts and our souls?”

The man arrived at the place where he came back to and whispered to the angel, “There is no failure, is there? God can do no wrong in our eyes, and we can do no wrong in His.” The angel smiled, and they walked to the garden together.

I am Sananda, and I wish you a day of changes, and a day of whispers of miracles.