Good intentions are often divided from action taken by the fine line of taking the time. I cannot tell you how many are the moments I have thought of giving someone a call, stopping by to visit a parishioner, one of my brothers or my Dad, listening with a willing heart to the entire story someone has to share, and, well the list goes on and on . . .
My life is riddled with good intentions whose memory hangs like the albatross upon my heart, for I have looked into the eyes of those whose fortune it has been to be one of good intentions. The haunting, forlorn, hurt that courses those looks will not quickly leave my soul, nor should they, for they stiffen my resolve not to live a life made up exclusively of good intentions. Easy are the excuses, hard is the reality. No-one, including me, ever wants to know they are little more than a good intention on your list of things to do.
Which is why God sent the only Son. God doesn't just intend to bring all of God's children home, God comes to us and shows us the way. Jesus is God's gift of faithfulness that overcomes our every good intention in faith, in life, in living. The stone rolled away from the tomb bears the tears and scars of generations who wanted to live such faithfulness, but never seemed to have time time or resolve. God's Spirit rolls up the grave clothes of our wanton disregard of God and each other, inviting us to a new reality, a new time of being who God has created us to be.I am grateful to those in my life who regard me as something more than a good intention and pray forgiveness for those moments I have not taken time for another. May God be kinder to us all than we are to each other in all of our good intentions.
Peace on the journey, my friends.
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