A couple of days ago I was speaking to a new friend about her times with God and how she desires these times to be intentional. Her quiet time each day typically includes times of prayer, study and silence, but she went onto share her recent struggles in this area because of her own and her child's illness. She commented that her journal ling had been reduced to simple prayers of help to just get through her days.
I challenged her that when her world is pushed by circumstances into these times that they can be just as intentional as her typical routine. But it was way to much for her to easily accept my suggestion that her time with God could be nothing more than curling up on the couch, lying in his lap, and being with him; evening falling asleep like that. She questioned, "If this is the way it is supposed to be then why do we never hear this kind of teaching in our churches?"
My conversation with her brought me back to the things I have been considering this week. I think we as a society, as a church have confused drivenness for intentionality. (My own life and experiences are testimony to this.) I am so glad that I have been introduced to the spiritual disciplines and to spiritual direction because they have caused me to slowly accept a paradigm shift in my pursuit of life; to move from pressing into drivenness to resting in intention.
And so as this week ends and the Sabbath approaches, I am choosing to live a life of intentionality, aware of the contours created by God's creative work in me and others, aware of his bigger work in my life and the lives of others, aware of his presence and activity and goodness into which I am invited to rest and move and be. This will be a process, a growth edge in my life for sometime. Lord, teach me.
January 31, 2009
January 30, 2009
intentional living = awake
That which drains me, which steals life and energy away from me, (or in the words of Ignatius) that which is desolation is the way I have been doing this thing called "intentional living". Because of this, I know what living a highly intentional life is NOT:
It is NOT having every moment of my day scheduled and accounted for. It is NOT being sure that every book I read and every movie I watch can be connected to my mission or purpose. It is NOT considering or evaluating all of my activities and pronouncing over them, "That is good. That had impact and worth." Only God can say that, and I am not him.
Instead, I think that living a life that is highly intentional is living life awake.
To be intentional means to live in a state of awareness, wakefulness to God in my surroundings, experiences and relationships. It means living aware of the contours of life and responsive to the bigger work God is doing in me and in others. Practically for me, it means making space in my life to hear and notice and acknowledge God's presence in each activity, involvement, book and movie. It is asking myself each day, "How am I doing living into my longing 'to be on a journey of discovery of God enhanced in the presence of others'?"
So, as I review my day, I need to ask: "What aspects have served to give me life, instill energy, grant consolation? And what aspects have served to give death, drain energy, pronounce desolation?" Then choose to with intent (purpose, aim, goal, design) add more of those activities and relationships that give the first while releasing those that provide the second.
Lord, continue to teach me.
It is NOT having every moment of my day scheduled and accounted for. It is NOT being sure that every book I read and every movie I watch can be connected to my mission or purpose. It is NOT considering or evaluating all of my activities and pronouncing over them, "That is good. That had impact and worth." Only God can say that, and I am not him.
Instead, I think that living a life that is highly intentional is living life awake.
To be intentional means to live in a state of awareness, wakefulness to God in my surroundings, experiences and relationships. It means living aware of the contours of life and responsive to the bigger work God is doing in me and in others. Practically for me, it means making space in my life to hear and notice and acknowledge God's presence in each activity, involvement, book and movie. It is asking myself each day, "How am I doing living into my longing 'to be on a journey of discovery of God enhanced in the presence of others'?"
So, as I review my day, I need to ask: "What aspects have served to give me life, instill energy, grant consolation? And what aspects have served to give death, drain energy, pronounce desolation?" Then choose to with intent (purpose, aim, goal, design) add more of those activities and relationships that give the first while releasing those that provide the second.
Lord, continue to teach me.
January 29, 2009
a picture of intention
I clearly don't get it as evidenced by my life, but I think a picture of how this works is taking shape in me.
"to be driven" looks like a farmer plowing a field, traversing a path across
his land from one side to the other. picking up the plow and pressing unto that end. Fatigue is a natural result because of the energy it takes to accomplish this kind of work. In this scene, I see myself pushing through even when the grade becomes an uphill climb, all the while hoping for a change in terrain once the hill is accomplished. I keep pushing because the result is so important, in order to plant the seed a furrow must be formed.
"to be intentional" looks like a farmer plowing a field an inner awareness that there is a greater purpose cutting a furrow from end to end of his field. As I press into the plow I remain aware of
the contour of the land choosing to follow it rather than cutting across it. The resulting furrow is not straight but instead flows over the piece of intervening property from my starting place unto its end. Looking back at my finished work, I can now see that it was more than a furrow that I cut; a ribbon of soil has been left to embrace the seed that will be cast, keeping it from flowing away in the waters of the spring rain.
Lord, teach me.
"to be driven" looks like a farmer plowing a field, traversing a path across
his land from one side to the other. picking up the plow and pressing unto that end. Fatigue is a natural result because of the energy it takes to accomplish this kind of work. In this scene, I see myself pushing through even when the grade becomes an uphill climb, all the while hoping for a change in terrain once the hill is accomplished. I keep pushing because the result is so important, in order to plant the seed a furrow must be formed."to be intentional" looks like a farmer plowing a field an inner awareness that there is a greater purpose cutting a furrow from end to end of his field. As I press into the plow I remain aware of
the contour of the land choosing to follow it rather than cutting across it. The resulting furrow is not straight but instead flows over the piece of intervening property from my starting place unto its end. Looking back at my finished work, I can now see that it was more than a furrow that I cut; a ribbon of soil has been left to embrace the seed that will be cast, keeping it from flowing away in the waters of the spring rain.
Lord, teach me.
January 28, 2009
Is there an answer in the definitions?
When I don't understand something or feel confused about the meaning or interpretation of a word or phrase I go back to the basics and see what Mr. Webster has to say:
to drive = (1) to push or propel onward with force; (2) to goad by force or compulsion; (3) to provide the motive power for; (4) carry through without letting up
to be driven = to be pushed or propelled onward with force or compulsion
intent = (noun) purpose; aim; goal; design; (adjective) directing one's mind or efforts steadfastly; firmly directed or fixed
intention = (noun) purpose, either ultimate or immediate; aim; goal
intentional = (adjective) resulting from purpose; deliberate; intended
I want a life of purpose that is deliberate, lived with intent; but I definitely DO NOT want a life that is pushed or propelled onward with force, and I certainly don't want to live a life of compulsion.
It is my desire to be highly intentional, to not just float through life allowing circumstances to push me here or there -- I desperately want my life to count, to have impact. So, maybe I have been confused about the application more than about the concept itself? Lord, teach me.
to drive = (1) to push or propel onward with force; (2) to goad by force or compulsion; (3) to provide the motive power for; (4) carry through without letting up
to be driven = to be pushed or propelled onward with force or compulsion
intent = (noun) purpose; aim; goal; design; (adjective) directing one's mind or efforts steadfastly; firmly directed or fixed
intention = (noun) purpose, either ultimate or immediate; aim; goal
intentional = (adjective) resulting from purpose; deliberate; intended
I want a life of purpose that is deliberate, lived with intent; but I definitely DO NOT want a life that is pushed or propelled onward with force, and I certainly don't want to live a life of compulsion.
It is my desire to be highly intentional, to not just float through life allowing circumstances to push me here or there -- I desperately want my life to count, to have impact. So, maybe I have been confused about the application more than about the concept itself? Lord, teach me.
January 27, 2009
Intentional: What a word?! What a concept?!
Living intentionally is my desire, but it always seems that after a period of time I just get tired -- I eventually regain my strength and motivation and try again but there is this continual waxing and waning intentionality with periods of numbness, fatigue, and just moving through life, nothing more than riding the waves.
It feels like being on a surf board paddling out against the waves where after a time I get tired and have to just lay on the board being tossed and pushed by the waves until I recover and can start paddling again. The puropse of all of the effort makes it all worth it, but . . . ?
I don't think this is how I'm meant to live -- this feels more like drivenness than what I sense a life of intention is supposed to be. Now this is small scale drivenness compared to the life controlling drivenness I used to live, but drivenness none the less.
So, if this isn't the way then what does it mean to be "Highly Intentional"? Lord, teach me.
It feels like being on a surf board paddling out against the waves where after a time I get tired and have to just lay on the board being tossed and pushed by the waves until I recover and can start paddling again. The puropse of all of the effort makes it all worth it, but . . . ?
I don't think this is how I'm meant to live -- this feels more like drivenness than what I sense a life of intention is supposed to be. Now this is small scale drivenness compared to the life controlling drivenness I used to live, but drivenness none the less.
So, if this isn't the way then what does it mean to be "Highly Intentional"? Lord, teach me.
January 26, 2009
When God is MIA
Why is it easier to sense God's love and caring in the midst of circumstances beyond our influence -- a natural disaster, cancer, economic disaster -- than we find ourselves in places caused by our own poor decisions? During these times God seems so far away, so distant. It is in this place that I have been dwelling.
I tell myself that God is the same no matter the cause of my circumstance; yet, here I am; yet, this is what I feel.
It's almost like when things come upon me outside of my control then I rest in the fact that God must have allowed this into my life; therefore, he is present and at work through these circumstances. BUT when MY lack of margin, MY lack of planning, MY wrong decisions, or MY lack of obedience place me in the midst of pain and struggle, I feel so alone. I feel like I deserve what I am experiencing, and I am ashamed. And in my shame, I turn away from God, from his grace, from his presence. Now this doesn't happen intentionally, mind you; for in my struggles I am seeking him and his wisdom and his direction -- and yet, things feel different, even false. My innate knowing, my confidence in his presence even when I can't see him fades. I know the truth of his presence in my head, but in the deep place of honesty in me, in my heart, I'm not quite sure.
I see this picture of me surrounded by bright, white light, but its source is behind me as I am kneeling, slumped on the hard, cold concrete surface. My gaze is cast downward into the shadow created by my own small shape, a shadow that is quite dark, isolated from the surrounding brightness. Overcome by this scene, I begin crying out in desperation to the small figure I see.
"Turn around! Do you not see the blinding light of his love? Why are you gazing fixed on the shadow and darkness of your own lack? Do you not feel him kneeling with you surrounding you with his arms of love? How could he not be, you are his beloved. Why do you hold onto what you think you deserve -- darkness, shadow, isolation, rejection?" (The tone of my cry softens as the presence of his love penetrates the scene.) "You don't even have to move. Just look up and you will see how the light of his love is penetrating the darkness of your disobedience and the consequences of your sin. You are loved. He is here with you in this place of your own making, but he IS here, and together you will rise and walk out of this mess."
Lord, I hold the results of my lack and of my sin, but I hold them WITH you until with you and by you the work of restoration is completed.
I tell myself that God is the same no matter the cause of my circumstance; yet, here I am; yet, this is what I feel.
It's almost like when things come upon me outside of my control then I rest in the fact that God must have allowed this into my life; therefore, he is present and at work through these circumstances. BUT when MY lack of margin, MY lack of planning, MY wrong decisions, or MY lack of obedience place me in the midst of pain and struggle, I feel so alone. I feel like I deserve what I am experiencing, and I am ashamed. And in my shame, I turn away from God, from his grace, from his presence. Now this doesn't happen intentionally, mind you; for in my struggles I am seeking him and his wisdom and his direction -- and yet, things feel different, even false. My innate knowing, my confidence in his presence even when I can't see him fades. I know the truth of his presence in my head, but in the deep place of honesty in me, in my heart, I'm not quite sure.
I see this picture of me surrounded by bright, white light, but its source is behind me as I am kneeling, slumped on the hard, cold concrete surface. My gaze is cast downward into the shadow created by my own small shape, a shadow that is quite dark, isolated from the surrounding brightness. Overcome by this scene, I begin crying out in desperation to the small figure I see.
"Turn around! Do you not see the blinding light of his love? Why are you gazing fixed on the shadow and darkness of your own lack? Do you not feel him kneeling with you surrounding you with his arms of love? How could he not be, you are his beloved. Why do you hold onto what you think you deserve -- darkness, shadow, isolation, rejection?" (The tone of my cry softens as the presence of his love penetrates the scene.) "You don't even have to move. Just look up and you will see how the light of his love is penetrating the darkness of your disobedience and the consequences of your sin. You are loved. He is here with you in this place of your own making, but he IS here, and together you will rise and walk out of this mess."
Lord, I hold the results of my lack and of my sin, but I hold them WITH you until with you and by you the work of restoration is completed.
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