I was all concerned, with the addition that I saw myself as so bad that only Jesus can know the miserable state of my soul. And my sweet Jesus, all goodness, came and told me: "My daughter, why do you oppress yourself? Do you know how one’s own things are in My Will? They are like many miserable rags and tatters, which give more dishonor than honor to the soul, and remind her that she used to be a poor one, and possessed not even one garment that was whole. When I want to call a soul into My Will, that she may establish her residence in It, I act like a great lord who would want to take one of the poorest women into His palace, so that, laying down her clothes of poor, she may be clothed according to His same condition, living together with Him, and sharing in all of His goods. Now, this lord goes around all the streets of the city, and as he finds one of the poorest women, homeless, without a bed, covered only with filthy rags, he takes her and brings her to his palace as a triumph of his charity. However, he orders her to lay down her rags, to clean herself and to clothe herself with the most beautiful garments; and in order to keep no memory of her poverty, to burn her rags. In fact, since he is extremely rich, he does not admit anything in his house which may recall poverty. Now, if the poor one sadly misses her rags, and afflicts herself because she has brought nothing of her own, would she not offend the goodness, the magnanimity of that lord?
“So I am; and if that lord goes around one city, I go around the whole world, and maybe all generations; and wherever I find the littlest, the poorest one, I take her and place her in the eternal sphere of My Volition, saying to her: ‘Work together with Me in My Will. What is Mine is yours. If you have something from your own — lay it down, because in the Sanctity and in the immense riches of My Will, it is nothing but miserable rags.’
"Wanting to have one’s own merits is of servants, of slaves — not of children. What belongs to the father, belongs to his children. Besides, what are all the merits that you could acquire compared to one single act of My Will? All merits have their own little value, weight and measure; but who could ever measure one single act of My Will? No one — no one. And then, what are your merits compared to Mine? In My Will you will find them all, and I make of you the owner. Aren’t you happy? …”