” In the second place, many people are deterred from seriously attempting Christian chastity because they think (before trying) that it is impossible. But when a thing has to be attempted, one must never think about possibility or impossibility. Faced with an optional question in an examination paper, one considers whether one can do it or not: faced with a compulsory question, one must do the best one can. You may get some marks for a very imperfect answer: you will certainly get none for leaving the question alone. Not only in examinations but in war, in mountain climbing, in learning to skate, or swim, or ride a bicycle, even in fastening a stiff collar with cold fingers, people quite often do what seemed impossible before they did it. It is wonderful what you can do when you have to.” (C.S. Lewis, Mere Christianity. Lewis is especially discussing the determination to live a sexually pure life, but his words may be applied to many other human endeavors as well.)

I have been diagnosed as having Attention Deficit Disorder.  I wonder if I also have Intention Deficit Disorder.

You’ve never heard of Intention Deficit Disorder, you say?  Me too neither.

I am reading a very old book by William Law, A Serious Call to a Devout and Holy Life.  He says many good, helpful things.  I suspect that the book could be boiled down to one succinct statement: Intend to honor God in all areas of your life, and you will.

He makes an important point.  Intention does matter.  What we truly, deeply, consistently intend to do, we most likely will do.

On the other hand, there is a difference between intention, and I-was-aiming-to-ism.  There is an expression which is especially common in the hills where I grew up: “I was aimin’ to.”

“I was aimin’ to do this,” and “I was aimin’ to do that,” and so on.  The expression is generally followed by something that we did not, in fact, do.  Years ago, a friend of mine got tired of her husband saying that he had aimed to do something.  She said, “When are you going to pull the trigger?!”  They are divorced now. Apparently, he never pulled the trigger.

Have I pulled the trigger when it comes to loving and serving God?  The question answers itself.  No, I take William Law’s point about the great importance of intention, but I don’t do anything with Law’s point.  Who will save me from this deficit of intentionality?!?

A Catholic friend of mine said to me, many years ago, “Sometimes I think you Protestants make too much of intentionality.  There are times when you have to simply do things.  And they work because you do them.”

Yes!  In my twelve-step meetings, we always conclude with the words, “Keep coming back.  It works if you work it, and give a lot of love.”  True that!

So, how do I do something about my tendency to intend, coupled with my tendency to do nothing?  This morning before Vigils, as I was thinking about what Law wrote, and about my Intention Deficit Disorder, I was having half-a-cup of coffee in the dining room.  I noticed a verse of Scripture on the table in front of me.  It was 1 John 4:10: “In this is love, not that we have loved God but that he loved us and sent his Son to be the propitiation for our sins.”

The following verses go on to speak of our need to love one another, and that is very important.  But for the moment, I’m going to cling to verse 10. The fact is that I don’t always (often?) have a pure intention to love and serve God.  But love is, first and foremost, about God’s love for me and for us.  It is not about my love or our love first.  We can only risk loving (and love is a risk), when we know that we are already loved.  Love was God’s intention.  And God has pulled the trigger.