true story: blogger freaks me out. it's sort of like time with Jesus: the longer i go without, the more scared i am of even opening that door, as the flood gates release all that has been waiting for my return.
it's always a good thing to return; just ask the prodigal son. there's just that anxiety that wells up within, that would rather shy from the overwhelmingness than succumb to it. so if i've gone a week without a blog post, i'll likely go three more, just for good measure.
but today, i was intentional. i did a little preplanning at school for next week, and left with an abundance of time for what looks like to be the only free evening I will have until Christmas. i had two intentions for tonight: coffee shop and Jesus time, and writing at home. i figured if i didn't put them in that order, I wouldn't actually do either of them. (i actually have a third thing, organize my sewing corner in this mess of a studio room i now inhabit, but that's neither here nor there).
intentionality.
there's a lot in that word. it represents our heart. our purpose. our pursuit. our focus. it shows our level of commitment, or maybe our lack of it. i think it's also a humility check for our ability to coast-by, ever-so-effortlessly-- in which we realize most things don't come with ease, rather, only with well-intentioned pursuit.
i realized a few things today i must be intentional about. writing is always one of them. as much as i love to write, as much as words are the next best antidote to Jesus for a trying day, they don't pour out at will without me first popping the cork.
time with Jesus must also be intentional. although its a rare day in which i don't encounter Jesus in unconventional ways, to really grow from those experiences, i must grant myself time to marinade and reflect. give the opportunities of the day a chance to breed emotions, give those emotions an opportunity to find words to express them. but if the words remain unspoken, unwritten, then their potential to change my heart remains unreached.
we must also be intentional to love and to seek out opportunities to love. it's not always easy. the flesh wants to respond in a way that seems natural: to discipline errors, to air our frustrations to those that we deem deserve to hear them. whats hard is to take the offender by the hand, bite your tongue, and speak love, out of a place that doesn't seek to inflict the same pain your heart is feeling because of them.
patience must be intentioned. no body becomes an accidentally patient person. if so, please allow me to sit as one of their students, because i seriously suck in this department. although i failed on many accounts to be patient through the course of today's trials, there were a few moments in which I said, "die" to flesh, and surrendered my "right" to be right. more often than not, that wasn't the case. the victory, albeit small, was still a victory for Christ.
the Word tells us that our flesh and the Spirit are set in opposition to one another. The flesh sets its desires against the spirit, and the spirit sets its desires against the flesh; we can not do what we want because of this power struggle within. because our flesh is set against the Spirit, to walk by the Spirit, we must be intentional about setting our choices, words, actions, responses, etc. against our natural instincts of the flesh. over time, through learned behavior and habit, we can become more agreeable to the Spirit's desires, but I'm not certain that there will ever be a time in which we do it all the time, every time, without error without first choosing the Spirit over flesh.
living intentionally is the only way we can truly live a Spirit-filled life. intentionally choose your words, your actions, your reactions to mimic that of Christ. love others with intention, not out of the limited ability of your flesh, rather out of the unlimited fullness of grace and strength of the Lord. we must pursue Him with intention, walk with intention, learn and grieve and humble ourselves with intention. not that in our own intention we are ever capable of walking out perfection. but without it, we will wander aimlessly.
