The Intentional Life


For we are His workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand so that we would walk in them. Ephesians 2:10

My mom passed away yesterday morning.

The passing itself was sudden though not unexpected.  There were only minutes between her not feeling well and slipping away quietly in her bed at the nursing home.

That was a blessing after weeks of worsening dementia and paranoia.

She had come to a place of peace the last few days.

I certainly didn’t expect this year to be the year of loss that it has been:

A close online friend who I dearly loved and was fortunate enough to have met in person.

My favorite aunt.

My brother.

My husband.

Our sweet little cat of 16 years.

And now my mom.

Out of all of them, my mom’s death is speaking to me the loudest.  And not because it is the newest.

You see, my mom and I were a lot alike.  Perhaps that is why we were so close.  I grew up in an atmosphere of fear - that the world is a scary place and you can’t trust it.  I grew up afraid of illnesses and problems and conflict.

I’ve read that the woman you are at 40 or 50 largely determines the woman you will become at 70 or 80.

I’m praying that is not true for me.

The day before my mom died I was reading the book, Pursue the Intentional Life by Jan Fleming.  (Yes, I am doing a LOT of reading right now!)  The main theme of the book seems to be, “What kind of old woman will I become.”

She speaks to women of every age.  How the way we are living today will create the person we will be at the end of our lives.

To be honest, after looking at my mom’s decline and mental state, it scares me.  Her condition is hereditary.  Her sister died from it as well.

I am seeing that I don’t want to end up like that if at all possible.

And I need to let go of the fears and anxieties *now*.

I need to begin in earnest that journey into the new me who can meet the rest of her life with grace and peace.

I’m tired of being afraid of the next corner.

The next death.

The next challenge.

I loved my mama more than words can say.

But I don’t want to grow up to be like her.

I want her life to live as a signpost for me - a glimpse of Christmas Future, if you will - that clearly points to the changes I need to be making now.

And those changes focus entirely on becoming the person God created me to be, so that when I stand before Him on the last day, I will have accomplished the tasks He sent me here to do.

Has there been a signpost placed in your own life? Do you have a sense of the urgent, no matter what your current age, to begin intentionally walking toward the old woman that will one day be you?  Are you able to look forward to becoming that person with joy and anticipation - or are fear and trepidation your companions?

 © deni weber 2010-2015