Pope John Paul II's last gift to me

The funeral of our Pope, John Paul II, was a deeply moving event for me. For the first time since standing in St Peter's square where I was blessed to be present when our Holy Father died, I was able to cry. When the pall bearers were carrying John Paul II's casket into the basilica after mass, they turned around at the entrance so that the whole world might see him one last time, and it was then that I realized he is now forever gone. I cried because I will miss him dearly. He did so much for our Church, he did so much for me.
There is a lot that is known about John Paul II. He was purposefully open with his life because he had nothing to hide. He was a humble man who had emptied himself, so that Christ might fill him; and Christ shone through him like a light in the darkness. But there was a private side to JPII, just as there was to Christ; private in the sense that it was between him and God. The prayer life of our Holy Father has been spoken about time and time again, because like Jesus in the garden inviting Peter and John to keep vigil, John Paul II invited many into his chapel to keep vigil. Anyone who has been there can testify to the powerful image of seeing him deep in communion with our Lord. What they spoke to each other we do not know, but I think that his prayer was more powerful than anything he did, for the prayers of a righteous man are strong indeed. Repeating the words of Cardinal Joseph Ratzinger in his funeral homily, "We can be sure that our beloved Pope is standing today at the window of the Father’s house, that he sees us and blesses us."
There are many ways that I have failed to live up the standard that Christ sets for us, "Be perfect as your heavenly father is perfect." On my own, I cannot do this, but with Christ in me, anything is possible. The reason I fail is because I do not allow Christ to be fully in me; I tend to reserve a place for myself. I have often looked at my life compared to the saints around us: Saint Mother Theresa, Saint Jose Maria Escriva, Saint Padre Pio, and many other saints as well as many holy men and women. In doing this, I always find myself wanting. These men and women seem so far from me, from my lifestyle, that I can easily fall into despair that I will never be truly holy. This last Wednesday I was sharing a reflection about how John Paul II has affected my life, and I said that one of the most profound gifts the holy father gave me was the encouragement and strength of God to press on in Hope, that I can indeed become holy. I look at the picture of John Paul II in our private chapel here, and find him gazing at me with a comforting fatherly smile, and in my heart I hear him saying, "Christopher, you can do this, I believe in you." With these words in my heart, I feel like I can do anything.
Every moment that passes since the death of our Holy Father, I am more and more convicted that I need to change my life, and change it now. I feel the radical call to give my life to Christ more deeply now than I ever have in my life. In my past, this call seemed like a good option, or even a great option. After this life changing week here in Rome, I realize that this is no longer an option, it is necessary. I must change my life and change it starting now. This is the gift John Paul II has given to me: with the ending of his life, it is time for the beginning of mine.
Praise to God forever, Amen.