I can give up but what was never real.

I sacrifice illusions; nothing more. And all illusions go to find the gifts illusions tried to hide, awaiting me in shining welcome, and in readiness to give God’s ancient message to me. And every dream serves only to conceal the Self which is God’s only Son the likeness of Himself, the Holy One who still abides in Him forever, as He still abides in me.

Father, to you all sacrifice remains forever inconceivable. And so I cannot sacrifice except in dreams. As You created me, I can give up nothing You gave me. What you did not give has no reality. What loss can I anticipate except the loss of fear, and the return of love into my mind?

The sun shone brightly. I cleaned, clearing away last week’s old energy and making the house ready for the new energy of the coming week, and found myself writing 2500 words on the book. It was easy, it was effortless, done to music and in sunshine. Sacrifice was indeed inconceivable. Some may see it as me giving up a Sunday, or doing work on a non-work day, but I’ve come to accept that all kinds of work take place at all kinds of time in all kinds of places. It was such fun.