It was a mentoring conversation, and while obviously with a specific person, I had the feeling I had heard it many times before. We were starting with the important Steven Covey insight, “begin with the end in mind”. If you know Covey’s work you will remember that he suggests we imagine we are at our funeral, and are listening in to the eulogies. Covey asks what we hope to hear.
Imagine we are at our funeral, and are listening in to the eulogies...
Do we long for a word from fellow workers about how smart we were and how cleverly we outwitted the opposition, or would we prefer words from our spouse, children and friends about the deep difference we made in their life, the lasting legacy we leave, and the love that was cultivated. Do we hope people will speak of the value we added to our community and of the inspiration we have provided—or do we hope that people will gasp at our lavish casket (“could you believe it, genuine gold coated handles!”) and be impressed by the magnificent spread provided to thank them for their reluctant attendance?
OK. I am going a bit beyond Covey here, but his basic point is simple. What do you hope to be remembered for? Once you are clear about that, work back from it, and ask if what you are doing now is likely to lead to the realization of your hopes.
As I asked this question in the mentoring session, there was the slight awkwardness of an undesired confession, followed by the predictable rationalization. “Of course Covey is right,” he said. “But this is just an unusual season. There are so many challenges and opportunities at work, and I know it means family is losing out, but they will be the first to celebrate when we move to the new house and we can afford to do some really special things.” Like many I have heard, he talked with the calm assumption that children would always be children and that family would perpetually be around to dive into a new lifestyle with gratitude and delight. He didn’t buy the line that there will always be “so many challenges and opportunities at work”… and that, as per the writer of Ecclesiastes 3, there is a time for everything, which includes both a time to say “yes” and a time to say “no”. I do hope my friend finds a time to say “yes” to family within the window that is still open to him, but I have my concerns. Competing priorities can be hard to manage.
My devotions have been located in the Psalms for the past few weeks, and recently I have been thinking about Psalm 20:4 “May he give you the desire of your heart and make all your plans succeed.” There is a little bit of Hebrew parallelism here. David prays that we will be given the desires of our heart, and then prays that our plans will succeed. Is it the same request repeated twice? Not exactly, but they are related. What we most deeply desire is surely reflected in the plans we make.
What do I really, really want?
The link between the desire of our hearts (or our deepest desires) and our plans, is perfectly logical and makes sense. After all, what is the point of desiring something deeply but having no plan in place for how to attain it? If we really want something but do nothing to attain it, that springs from either great foolishness or real despair—being too foolish to make a plan to get what you really, really want, or being too despairing to think that there is even a vague possibility that it can be attained—which then makes planning unnecessary.
This has led me to ask the question, “What do I really, really want?”
I have found it surprisingly difficult to answer. I am conscious that I am at a new season in life. The answer you give when you are 27 may not be the answer you give when you are 67, as I am.
It is easy to give some fairly quick responses: wonderful relationships, good health, meaningful work, but when I push back with, “Why do I want this? Is it what I most deeply desire?” I am reminded of Dante’s moving line in the Divine Comedy: “In His will, is my peace.” It is very beautiful, but also very challenging. Do we resign to do God’s will, or enthusiastically embrace it? What role is there for free will, or for my own little quirks and hopes to bubble to the surface?
In Psalm 40:8 David writes: “I desire to do your will, my God; your law is within my heart.” Note the link between my desire, God’s will and God’s law—a law that somehow etches itself deeply into my heart.
Psalm 20:4 is such a generous prayer: “May he give you the desire of your heart, and make all your plans succeed.” But it also probes deeply. What is the desire of your heart, and are your plans in alignment? I am going to stick with those questions a little longer. Perhaps they will open up some helpful insights for you as well!
Originally published on Brian Harris' website. Republished with permission.
Dr Brian Harris, is based in Perth Australia. After decades of church pastoring and 17 years leading a theological college, he now directs the Avenir Leadership Institute, a future-focused consultancy which helps to shape the kinds of leaders the world needs. Brian is the author of seven books, the latest of which are: Why Christianity is Probably True (Paternoster, 2020) and Stirrers and Saints: Forming Spiritual Leaders of Skill, Depth and Character (Paternoster, 2024).
