Word of Wisdom: Intentional

“If there were no intentional walks, the guy would just walk him anyway, unintentionally intentionally walk him.” George Brett

Recently, the algorithm on my music streaming app pushed me Father of Mine by Everclear, a top 40 hit in the late ‘90s. I hadn’t heard it in decades, so I took interest, digging both the nostalgia and new addition to my workout playlist.

But then the lyrics hit me, and hit me hard. And they haven’t stopped hitting as I’ve sat with them.

In what is essentially an alt-rock exploration of the father wound, the autobiographical lyrics describe the loss after a father leaves. The song begins “when I was still your golden boy…back before you went away”, and crescendoes into a spasm of existential pain with an oath to not repeat the cycle.

In a reflection “back to the day” of “blue skies” and the sound of his father’s voice, there is this statement on the impact of paternal presence: “You would take me to the movies, take me to the beach…you would take me to a place inside that's so hard to reach.”

At which point my eyes well up every time.

What is it about a father’s attention that brings such contentment? Why is it that his simply “being there” can fill voids in the inner person? And why does his absence make one “never safe…never sane…always weird inside…always lame”?

It’s a great mystery, one that has persisted through the ages.

But it was a conversation about another song that revealed an aspect of that mystery—a discussion about a track that celebrates God the Father for being intentional. My friend and I wondered together why that matters—why it is that being “intentional” is an interesting let alone important attribute of the One who we call Abba?

Let’s look to the word itself.

The English term intentional means “with intention, with purpose”. It’s an adjective, formed from the noun intent—meaning “purpose” or “aim”. Purpose, surely, is of import (as we explored here). It’s personal, proactive, and primary in pushing back the dehumanizing disorder of chaos. “In the beginning”…the compassionate Creator had a purpose.

But there is something even deeper, even more essential to the heart…to that “place inside”.

Intent comes to us from the Latin intendere—meaning “direct one’s attention” but literally “to stretch out”, “to strain”, “to reach toward with effort”. To have intent, to be intentional, is to reach toward another with focus, with energy, with purpose and passion. It is to say to that person, “You are worthy”.

It is to touch that “place inside” that we can’t reach on our own.

And it helps us understand why the “God-shaped hole” in us requires that we live as a son of an intentional Father. Of One who is always reaching toward us.

Indeed, when we live as sons, we experience the Almighty not as distant and high above, but as Abba who is near and reaches toward us throughout the earth, and invites us to reach and touch him in return. We feel deeply the presence of One who stretches out his hand to rescue, to comfort, to deliver…and who invites us to stretch out our hand in response, and be made whole.

It is then that we experience being a new person, a new creation—a son who is safe, who is sane, who is free from the bondage to fear. And who, through living as such a son, can be a father to others who desire to be whole in that place that is so hard to reach.

That’s a chart-topper I could sing all day long.

“Indeed, God is mighty; and he does not despise people, he is mighty, and firm in his intent.”
Job 36:5