The God Memorandum 



		THE GOD MEMORANDUM
		by unknown

		To:    You								
		From:  God

		Take Counsel.
		I hear your cry.
		It passes through the darkness, filters through the clouds
		mingles with starlight, and finds its way to my heart on 
		the path of a sunbeam.

		I have anguished over the cry of a hare choked in the noose
		of a snare, a sparrow tumbled from the nest of its mother,
		a child thrashing helplessly in a pond, and a son shedding
		his blood on a cross.

		Know that I hear you, also.  Be at peace.  Be calm.
		I bring thee relief for your sorrow for I know its cause...
		and its cure.

		You weep for all your childhood dreams that have vanished
		with the years.
		You weep for all your self-esteem that has been corrupted
		by failure.
		You weep for all your potential that has been bartered for
		security.
		You weep for all your individuality that has been trampled
		by mobs.
		You weep for all your talent that has been wasted through
		misuse.

		You look upon yourself with disgrace and you turn in
		terror from the image you see in the pool.  
		Who is this mockery of humanity staring back at you with
		bloodless eyes of shame?

		Where is the grace of your manner, the beauty of your
		figure, the quickness of your movement, the clarity of
		your mind, the brilliance of your tongue?  
		Who stole your goods?  

		Is the thief's identity known to you as it is to me?
		Once you placed your head in a pillow of grass in your
		father's field and looked up at a cathedral of clouds 
		and knew that all the gold of Babylon would be yours
		in time.
		Once you read from many books and wrote on many tablets,
		convinced beyond any doubt that all the wisdom of 
		Solomon would be equaled and surpassed by you.
		And the seasons would flow into years until lo, you would
		reign supreme in your own garden of Eden. 
		Dost thou remember who implanted those plans and dreams
		and seeds of hope within you?
		You cannot.
		
		You have no memory of that moment when first you emerged
		from your mother's womb and I placed my hand on your 
		soft brow.  And the secret I whispered in your small ear
		when I bestowed my blessings upon you?
		Remember our secret?
		You cannot.
		
		The passing years have destroyed your recollection, 
		for they have filled your mind with fear and doubt and
		anxiety and remorse and hate and there is no room for
		joyful memories where these beasts habitate.
		Weep no more.  I am with you . . . 
		and this moment is the dividing line of your life.
		All that has gone before is like unto no more than that
		time you slept within your mother's womb.  What is past
		is dead.  Let the dead bury the dead.  
	
		This day you return from the living dead.
		This day, like unto Elijah with the widow's son, I
		stretch myself upon thee three times and you live again.
		This day, like unto Elisha with the Shunammite's son, 
		I put my mouth upon your mouth and my eyes upon your 
		eyes and my hands upon your hands and your flesh is warm
		again.
		
		This day, like unto Jesus at the tomb of Lazarus, I 
		command you to come forth and you will walk from your
		cave of doom to begin a new life.
		This is your birthday.  This is your new date of birth.
		Your first life, like unto a play of the theatre, was
		only a rehearsal.  This time the curtain is up.  This
		time the world watches and waits to applaud.  This time
		you will not fail.
		
		Light your candles.  Share your cake.  Pour the wine.  
		You have been reborn.  
		Like a butterfly from its chrysalis you will fly . . .
		fly as high as you wish, and neither the wasps nor 
		dragonflies nor mantids of mankind shall obstruct your
		mission or your search for the true riches of life.  
		Feel my hand upon thy head.
		Attend to my wisdom.
		
		Let me share with you, again, the secret you heard
		at your birth and forgot.
		You are my greatest miracle.
		You are the greatest miracle in the world.
		
		Those were the first words you ever heard.  
		Then you cried.  They all cry.
		You did not believe me then. . . and nothing has
		happened in the intervening years to correct your 
		disbelief.  For how could you be a miracle when you 
		consider yourself a failure at the most menial of tasks?
		How can you be a miracle when you have little confidence
		in dealing with the most trivial of responsibilities? 
		How can you be a miracle when you are shackled by debt 
		and lie awake in torment over whence come tomorrow's 
		bread?

		Enough.  The milk that is spilled is sour.  
		Yet, how many prophets, how many wise men, how many poets,
		how many artists, how many composers, how many scientists,
		how many philosophers and messengers have I sent with 
		word of your divinity, your potential for godliness, 
		and the secrets of achievement?  How did you treat them?
		Still I love you and I am with you now, through these
		words, to fulfill the prophet who announced that the 
		Lord shall set his hand again, the second time, to
		recover the remnant of his people.
		I have set my hand again.
		This is the second time.
		You are my remnant.
		
		It is of no avail to ask, haven't you known, haven't 
		you heard, hasn't it been told to you from the beginning;
		haven't you understood from the foundations of the earth?
		You have not known; you have not heard; you have not 
		understood.
		You have been told that you are a divinity in disguise,
		a god playing a fool.
		You have been told that you are a special piece of work,
		noble in reason, infinite in faculties, express and 
		admirable in form and moving, like an angel in action,
		like a god in apprehension.
		You have been told that you are the salt of the earth.
		You were given the secret even of moving mountains, of
		performing the impossible.
		You believed no one.  You burned your map to happiness,
		you abandoned your claim to peace of mind, you snuffed
		out the candles that had been placed along your destined
		path of glory, and then you stumbled, lost and frightened,
		in the darkness of futility and self-pity, until you fell
		into a hell of your own creation.
		Then you cried and beat your breast and cursed the luck 
		that had befallen you.  You refused to accept the 
		consequences of your own petty thoughts and lazy deeds
		and you searched for a scapegoat on which to blame your
		failure.  How quickly you found one.
		You blamed me!
		You cried that your handicaps, your mediocrity, your 
		lack of opportunity, your failures. . . were the will
		of God!
		You were wrong!
		
		Let us take inventory.  Let us, first call a roll of your
		handicaps.  For how can I ask you to build a new life 
		lest you have the tools?
		Are you blind?  Does the sun rise and fall without
		your witness?
		No.  You can see . . . and the hundred million receptors
		I have placed in your eyes enable you to enjoy the magic
		of a leaf, a snowflake, a pond, an eagle, a child, 
		a cloud, a star, a rose, a rainbow . . . and the look of
		love.  Count one blessing!
		
		Are you deaf?  Can a baby laugh or cry without your
		attention?
		No.  You can hear . . . and the twenty-four thousand 
		fibers I have built in each of your ears vibrate to the 
		wind in the trees, the tides on the rocks, the majesty 
		of an opera, a robin's plea, children at play . . . and
		the words I love you.  Count another blessing.
		
		Are you mute?  Do your lips move and bring forth only
		spittle?
		No.  You can speak . . . as can no other of my creatures,
		and your words can calm the angry, uplift the despondent,
		goad the quitter, cheer the unhappy, warm the lonely, 
		praise the worthy, encourage the defeated, teach the 
		ignorant . . . and say I love you.  Count another blessing.
		
		Are you paralyzed?  Does your helpless form despoil 
		the land?
		No.  You can move.  You are not a tree condemned to a
		small plot while the wind and world abuses you.  
		You can stretch and run and dance and work, for within
		you I have designed five hundred muscles, two hundred 
		bones, and seven miles of nerve fibre all synchronized 
		by me to do your bidding.  Count another blessing. 
	
		Are you unloved and unloving?  Does loneliness engulf 
		you, night and day?
		No.  No more.  For now you know love's secret, that to
		receive love it must be given with no thought of its
		return.  To love for fulfillment, satisfaction, or 
		pride is no love.  Love is a gift on which no return
		is demanded.  Now you know that to love unselfishly is
		its own reward.  And even should love not be returned 
		it is not lost, for love not reciprocated will blow 
		back to you and soften and purify your heart.  Count
		another blessing.  Count twice.

		Is your heart stricken?  Does it leak and strain to 
		maintain your life?
		No.  Your heart is strong.  Touch your chest and feel
		its rhythm, pulsating, hour after hour, day and night,
		thirty-six million beats each year, year after year, 
		asleep or awake, pumping your blood through more than
		sixty thousand miles of veins, arteries, and tubing . . .
		pumping more than six hundred thousand gallons each year.
		Man has never created such a machine.  Count another 
		blessing.

		Are you diseased of skin?  Do people turn in horror when
		you approach?
		No.  Your skin is clear and a marvel of creation, needing
		only that you tend it with soap and oil and brush and
		care.  In time all steels will tarnish and rust, but 
		not your skin.  Eventually the strongest of metals will
		wear, with use, but not that layer that I have constructed
		around you.  Constantly it renews itself, old cells
		replaced by new, just as the old you is now replaced by
		the new.  Count another blessing.

		Are your lungs befouled?  Does the breath of life 
		struggle to enter your body?
		No.  Your portholes to life support you even in the 
		vilest of environments of your own making, and they 
		labor always to filter life-giving oxygen through six
		hundred million pockets of folded flesh while they rid
		your body of gaseous wastes.  Count another blessing.

		Is your blood poisoned?  Is it diluted with water and
		pus?
		No.  Within your five quarts of blood are twenty-two
		trillion blood cells and within each cell are millions
		of molecule and within each molecule is an atom 
		oscillating at more than ten million times each second.
		Each second, two million of your blood cells die to
		be replaced by two million more in a resurrection 
		that has continued since your first birth.  As it has
		always been inside, so now it is on your outside.
		Count another blessing.

		Are you feeble of mind?  Can you no longer think for
		yourself?
		No.  Your brain is the most complex structure in the
		universe.  I know.  Within its three pounds are 
		thirteen billion nerve cells, more than three times 
		as many cells as there are people on your earth.  
		To help you file away every perception, every sound,
		every taste, every smell, every action you have 
		experienced since the day of your birth, I have 
		implanted, within your cells, more than one thousand
		billion protein molecules.  Every incident in your
		life is there waiting only your recall.  And, to
		assist your brain in the control of your body I have
		dispersed, throughout your form, four million pain-
		sensitive structures, five hundred thousand touch 
		detectors, and more than two hundred thousand 
		temperature detectors.  No nation's gold is better
		protected than you.  None of your ancient wonders are
		greater than you.

		You are my finest creation.
		Within you is enough atomic energy to destroy any of
		the world's greatest cities . . . and rebuild it.

		Are you poor?  Is there no gold or silver in your
		purse?
		No.  You are rich!  Together we have just counted your
		wealth.  Study the list.  Count them again.  Tally 
		your assets!

		Why have you betrayed yourself?  Why have you cried 
		that all the blessings of humanity were removed from 
		you?  Why did you deceive yourself that you were 
		powerless to change your life?  Are you without talent,
		senses, abilities, pleasures, instincts, sensations,
		and pride?  Are you without hope?  Why do you cringe
		in the shadows, a giant defeated, awaiting only 
		sympathetic transport into the welcome void and dampness
		of hell?
		You have so much.  Your blessings overflow your cup . . .
		and you have been unmindful of them, like a child 
		spoiled in luxury, since I have bestowed them upon you
		with generosity and regularity.
		Answer me.
		Answer yourself.

		What rich man, old and sick, feeble and helpless, would
		not exchange all the gold in his vault for the blessings
		you have treated so lightly.
		
		Know then the first secret to happiness and success -- 
		that you possess, even now, every blessing necessary 
		to achieve great glory.  They are your treasure, your
		tools with which to build, starting today, the foundation
		for a new and better life.

		Therefore, I say unto you, count your blessings and know
		that you already are my greatest creation.  This is the
		first law you must obey in order to perform the greatest
		miracle in the world, the return of your humanity from
		living death.

		And be grateful for your lessons learned in poverty. 
		For he is not poor who has little; only he that desires
		much . . . and true security lies not in the things
		one has but in the things one can do without.
	
		Where are the handicaps that produced your failure?
		They existed only in your mind.
		Count your blessings.
		And the second law is like unto the first.  
		Proclaim your rarity.
		You had condemned yourself to a potter's field, and
		there you lay, unable to forgive your own failure,
		destroying yourself with self-hate, self-incrimination,
		and revulsion at your crimes against yourself and 
		others.

		Are you not perplexed?
		Do you not wonder why I am able to forgive your 
		failures, your transgressions, your pitiful 
		demeanor . . . when you cannot forgive yourself?
		I address you now, for three reasons.  No need me.
		You are not one of a herd heading for destruction 
		in a gray mass of mediocrity.  And . . . you are a
		great rarity.

		Consider a painting by Rembrandt or a bronze by 
		Degas or a violin by Stradivarius or a play by 
		Shakespeare.  They have great value for two reasons:
		their creators were masters and they are few in 
		number.  Yet there are more than one of each of 
		these.
		On that reasoning you are the most valuable treasure
		on the face of the earth, for you know who created
		you and there is only one of you.
		Never, in all the seventy billion humans who have
		walked this planet since the beginning of time has
		there been anyone exactly like you.
		Never, until the end of time, will there be another
		such as you. You have shown no knowledge or 
		appreciation of your uniqueness.
		Yet, you are the rarest thing in the world.
		From your father, in his moment of supreme love,
		flowed countless seeds of love, more than four 
		hundred million in number.  All of them, as they 
		swam within your mother, gave up the ghost and died.
		All except one! You.
	
		You alone persevered within the loving warmth of 
		your mother's body, searching for your other half,
		a single cell from your mother so small that more 
		than two million would be necessary to fill an
		acorn shell.  Yet, despite impossible odds, in that
		vast ocean of darkness and disaster, you persevered,
		found that infinitesimal cell, joined with it, and
		began a new life.  Your life.

		You arrived, bringing with you, as does every child,
		the message that I was not yet discouraged of man.
		Two cells now united in a miracle.  Two cells, 
		each containing twenty-three chromosomes and within
		each chromosome hundreds of genes, which would 
		govern every characteristic about you, from the color
		of your eyes to the charm of your manner, to the 
		size of your brain.
		With all the combinations at my command, beginning
		with that single sperm from your father's four
		hundred million, through the hundreds of genes in
		each of the chromosomes from your mother and father,
		I could have created three hundred thousand billion
		humans, each different from the other.
		But who did I bring forth?
		You!  One of a kind.  Rarest of the rare.  
		A priceless treasure, possessed of qualities in
		mind and speech and movement and appearance and 
		actions as no other who has ever lived, lives, or
		shall live.

		Why have you valued yourself in pennies when you
		are worth a king's ransom?
		Why did you listen to those who demeaned you . . .
		and far worse, why did you believe them?
		Take counsel.  No longer hide your rarity in the
		dark.  Bring it forth.  Show the world.  Strive not
		to walk as your brother walks, nor talk as your
		leader talks, nor labor as do the mediocre.  
		Never do as another.  Never imitate.  For how
		do you know that you may not imitate evil; and he
		who imitates evil always goes beyond the example 
		set, while he who imitates what is good always 
		falls short.  Imitate no one.  Be yourself.  
		Show your rarity to the world and they will shower
		you with gold.  This then is the second law.
		Proclaim your rarity.
	
		And now you have received two laws.
		Count your blessings!  Proclaim your rarity!
		You have no handicaps.  You are not mediocre.
		You nod.  You force a smile.  You admit your
		self-deception.
		What of your next complaint?  Opportunity never
		seeks thee?
		Take counsel and it shall come to pass, for now
		I give you the law of success in every venture. 
		Many centuries ago this law was given to your 
		forefathers from a mountain top.  Some heeded the
		law and lo, their life was filled with the fruit 
		of happiness, accomplishment. gold, and peace of
		mind.  Most listened not, for they sought magic 
		means, devious routes, or waited for the devil 
		called luck to deliver to them the riches of life. 
		They waited in vain . . . just as you waited, and
		then they wept, as you wept, blaming their lack of
		fortune on my will.
		The law is simple.  Young or old, pauper or king,
		white or black, male or female . . . all can use 
		the secret to their advantage; for of all the rules
		and speeches and scriptures of success and how to 
		attain it, only one method has never failed . . .
		whomsoever shall compel ye to go with him one mile
		. . . go with him two.
	
		This then is the third law . . . the secret that 
		will produce riches and acclaim beyond your dreams.
		Go another mile!

		The only certain means of success is to render more
		and better service than is expected of you, no matter
		what your task may be.  This is a habit followed by 
		all successful people since the beginning of time.
		Therefore I say the surest way to doom yourself to
		mediocrity is to perform only the work for which you
		are paid.
		Think not you are being cheated if you deliver more
		than the silver you receive.  For there is a pendulum
		to all life and the sweat you deliver, if not rewarded
		today, will swing back tomorrow, tenfold.  The 
		mediocre never goes another mile, for why should he 
		cheat himself, he thinks.  But you are not mediocre.
		 To go another mile is a privilege you must 
		appropriate by your own initiative.  You cannot, 
		you must not avoid it.  Neglect it, do only as little
		as the others, and the responsibility for your failure
		is yours alone.
		You can no more render service without receiving just
		compensation than you can withhold the rendering of
		it without suffering the loss of reward.  Cause and
		effect, means and ends, seed and fruit, these cannot
		be separated.  The effect already blooms in the cause,
		the end pre-exists in the means, and the fruit is 
		always in the seed.

		Go another mile.
		Concern yourself not, should you serve an ungrateful
		master.  Serve him more.
		And instead of him, let it be me who is in your 
		debt, for then you will know that every minute, every
		stroke of extra service will be repaid.  And worry not,
		should your reward not come soon.  For the longer 
		payment is withheld, the better for you . . . and
		compound interest on compound interest is this law's
		greatest benefit.
		You cannot command success, you can only deserve it
		. . . and now you know the great secret necessary 
		in order to merit its rare reward.
		Go another mile!
	
		Where is this field whence you cried there was no 
		opportunity?  Look!  Look around thee.  See, where
		only yesterday you wallowed on the refuse of self-pity,
		you now walk tall on a carpet of gold.  Nothing has
		changed . . . except you, but you are everything.
		You are my greatest miracle.
		You are the greatest miracle in the world.
		And now the laws of happiness and success are three.
		Count your blessings!  Proclaim your rarity! 
		Go another mile!
		
		Be patient with your progress.  To count your 
		blessings with gratitude, to proclaim your rarity
		with pride, to go an extra mile and then another, 
		these acts are not accomplished in the blinking of
		an eye.  Yet, that which you acquire with most
		difficulty you retain the longest; as those who
		have earned a fortune are more careful of it than
		those by whom it was inherited.
		And fear not as you enter your new life.  
		Every noble acquisition is attended with its risks.
		He who fears to encounter the one must not expect
		to obtain the other.  Now you know you are a miracle.
		And there is no fear in a miracle.
		Be proud.  You are not the momentary whim of a
		careless creator experimenting in the laboratory
		of life.  You are not a slave of forces that you 
		cannot comprehend.  You are a free manifestation 
		of no force but mine, of no love but mine.  
		You were made with a purpose.
		Feel my hand.  Hear my words.
		You need me . . . and I need you.
		We have a world to rebuild . . . and if it requires
		a miracle what is that to us?  We are both miracles 
		and now we have each other.
		Never have I lost faith in you since that day when
		I first spun you from a giant wave and tossed you 
		helplessly on the sands.  As you measure time that
		was more than five hundred million years ago.  
		There were many models, many shapes, many sizes,
		before I reached perfection in you more than thirty
		thousand years ago.  I have made no further effort
		to improve on you in all these years.
	
		For how could one improve on a miracle?
		You were a marvel to behold and I was pleased.
		I gave you this world and dominion over it.  
		Then, to enable you to reach your full potential
		I placed my hand upon you, once more, and endowed
		you with powers unknown to any other creature in 
		the universe, even unto this day.

		I gave you the power to think.
		I gave you the power to love.
		I gave you the power to will.
		I gave you the power to laugh.
		I gave you the power to imagine.
		I gave you the power to create.
		I gave you the power to plan.
		I gave you the power to speak.
		I gave you the power to pray.
		My pride in you knew no bounds.  
		You were my ultimate creation, my greatest miracle.
 		A complete living being.  One who can adjust to any
		climate, any hardship, any challenge.  One who can
		manage his own destiny without any interference
		from me.  One who can translate a sensation or 
		perception, not by instinct, but by thought and 
		deliberation into whatever action is best for himself
		and all humanity.
	
		Thus we come to the fourth law of success and 
		happiness. . . for I gave you one more power, 
		a power so great that not even my angels possess it.
		I gave you . . . the power to choose.

		With this gift I placed you even above my angels
		. . . for angels are not free to choose sin.  I gave
		you complete control over your destiny.  
		I told you to determine, for yourself, your own 
		nature in accordance with your own free will.  
		Neither heavenly nor earthly in nature, you were 
		free to fashion yourself in whatever form you 
		preferred.  You had the power to choose to degenerate
		into the lowest forms of life (choosing to reject
		Jesus and his offer of Salvation, to follow Satan),
		but you also had the power, out of your soul's 
		judgment, to be reborn into the higher forms, which
		are divine.  (choosing Jesus as Lord and Savior of
		your life).

		I have never withdrawn your great power, the power 
		to choose.
		What have you done with this tremendous force?
		Look at yourself.  Think of the choices you have
		made in your life and recall, now, those bitter 
		moments when you would fall to your knees if only
		you had the opportunity to choose again.

		What is past is past . . . and now you know the
		fourth great law of happiness and success . . . 
		Use wisely, your power of choice
		Choose Jesus and spiritual life . . . 
		rather than Satan and spiritual death.
		Choose to love . . . rather than hate.
		Choose to laugh . . . rather than cry.
		Choose to create . . . rather than destroy.
		Choose to persevere . . . rather than quit.
		Choose to praise . . . rather than gossip.
		Choose to heal . . . rather than wound.
		Choose to give . . . rather than steal.
		Choose to act . . . rather than procrastinate.
		Choose to grow . . . rather than rot.
		Choose to pray . . . rather than curse.
		Choose to live . . . rather than die.

		Now you know that your misfortunes were not my 
		will, for all power was vested in you, and the 
		accumulation of deeds and thoughts which placed
		you on the refuse of humanity were your doing, not
		mine.  My gifts of power were too large for your 
		small nature.  Now you have grown tall and wise and
		the fruits of the land will be yours.
		You are more than a human being, you are a human
		becoming.
		You are capable of great wonders.  Your potential
		is unlimited.  Who else, among my creatures has
		mastered fire?  Who else, among my creatures has
		conquered gravity, has pierced the heavens, has 
		conquered diseases and pestilence and drought?
		Never demean yourself again!
		Never settle for the crumbs of life!
		Never hide your talents, from this day hence!
		Remember the child who says, "when I am a big boy".
		But what is that?  For the big boy says, "when I
		grow up".  And then grown up, he says, "when I am
		wed".  But to be wed, what is that, after all?  
		The thought then changes to "when I retire".  
		And then, retirement comes, and he looks back 
		over the landscape traversed; a cold wind sweeps
		over it and somehow he has missed it all and it
		is gone. Enjoy this day, today . . . and tomorrow,
		tomorrow.
		You have performed the greatest miracle in the 
		world. You have returned from a living death.
		You will feel self-pity no more and each new day
		will be a challenge and a joy.
		You have been born again . . . but just as before,
		you can choose failure and despair or success 
		and happiness.  The choice is yours.  The choice
		is exclusively yours.  I can only watch, as before
		. . . in pride. . . or sorrow.
		Remember, then, the four laws of happiness and 
		success.

		Count your blessings.
		Proclaim your rarity.
		Go another mile.
		Use wisely your power of choice.
		And one more to fulfill the other four.  
		Do all things with love . . . love for yourself,
		love for all others, and love for me.
		Wipe away your tears.  Reach out, grasp my hand,
		and stand straight.
		Let me cut the grave cloths that have bound you.
		This day you have been notified.

		YOU ARE THE GREATEST 
		MIRACLE IN THE WORLD