cUStom homilies tHAT humble

Yesterday, I was at Father Baker's house trying to study for my last final of college. Just before mass he asked how life was going and my plans post-grad. Sleep-deprived and selfish for attention, I gave a honest answer, 'I've really got no idea. I trust God's plan and I am not despairing, but the road is really dark right now." 

We walked upstairs and had a small mass in the little chapel. For the homily, Father Baker changed his plans. Instead of talking about relics - he talked to me. 

"Your trials," he said, "are divinely and perfectly given to you. God allows you to experience the darkness and the desolation for your benefit. When we realize that we can do nothing on our own, that it all comes from God, than we can fully live out what Saint Paul says "It is not I, but Christ who lives within me." You may feel like God keeps knocking you down and taking things away, but remember, the more we can be emptied of ourselves, the more Christ can fill us with Himself. "

Well, Goodmorning SanDiego.  Can we say 'wake up call'? In three sentences, I was basically told that despite 4 years in University, countless hours of volunteer work, and a large social network: I can't do anything at all. 

Because everything comes from God and His grace. If I become a good doctor, a good business owner, a good author - I may believe it was because I was a good student, a good worker or a good writer but in reality it's Christ living within me, not myself. Because all comes from God and we can do nothing on our own. 


All that I am and do and learn and be - is not me, but Christ who lives within me. And regardless of whether I actively realize and recognize it - all the good within me, all of my success - is not of myself, but of Him who is greater than me. 

"The more we are emptied of ourselves, the more Christ can fill us with Himself" 

It's so strange to describe, but it's like I don't want to be a person anymore. Tori? Tori who? I want to be such a slave to God that I am no longer me - that myself is so emptied of me, and so filled with Christ, that I am no longer Tori, but Christ within Tori, because all that is left is Christ. I've said this before, but today it has a whole new meaning. Today I want to give up my name, my clothes, my diploma my plans - and say, "God, it's all yours. Take it all away so it can be replaced with more of You." Because all the things I hold on to, if I am holding on to them, it means there is less room in my heart that I can allow God to live in. 

And it's such a paradox, but it seems so clear: that if I loose all that I have, if I give away all that I have in the hope of becoming nothing -  in return, I gain everything.