God in Heavenletters™ says we are made of love. He says that love is what we are. I believe he also says that love is Who we are.

A lot of the time, however, my heart feels barren of love, often for no reason, sometimes because someone makes a remark I don’t like or looks at me in a funny way, or a stranger knocks into me and doesn’t say she’s sorry, or because of any number of little things that happen and the little thoughts I have — so unbefitting for someone who wants to serve God.

The good thing about these times is that I see how far away from love I’ve wandered and how I need to get back on track.

Sometimes the best I can do is not to feel either love or non-love.

With all this being said, there are nevertheless many times I do feel great overflowing love in my heart. Huge love. The trouble is that the love in my heart seems to need to be stirred.

The love is there. It’s on tap. Yet the love seems to be waiting for something to bring it out. Too often the love in my heart makes itself dependent upon something on the outside.

Fortunately, many many things do bring out the love.

Reading a Heavenletter brings it out. Writing a Heavenletter. Doing my personal Godwriting brings it out. For a while, my heart alights on Vastness instead of smallness.

In those times when I acknowledge that God is right here with me and I am here with God — there is nothing else to feel but love. In those moments, there isn’t anything but love. Only love exists, and I know I’m made of it.

There are many more things that pull out the love. Reading your comments and questions does it. I cannot tell you how much. The simplest comments of yours bring it out. The wisest too.

When someone subscribes to Heavenletters, my heart swells.

Someone’s smile brings out the love in my heart.

Sometimes I feel so much love that I don’t know what to do with the love I feel. I cannot contain it. I’m not a hugger or a dancer, yet there are times when I feel I could dance through the Universe on my toes and hug everyone. I would never do that, not even in a small room, yet my heart will burst unless I express its love somehow, and I sit here not knowing how.

So I think there are two parts of love — feeling it and expressing it.

How do we express the love in our hearts when we do truly feel it? Or must we live with the fact that so much love is simply inexpressible?

As I am writing, it occurs to me that perhaps service to God is the only way we can begin to express our love whether we’re feeling it that moment or not, and service to God may be in as little a thing as picking up a piece of paper on the street or helping someone post a photo.