Forecasting Your Legacy - Retirement Rework

Our days on earth are like grass;

like wildflowers, we bloom and die.

The wind blows, and we are gone—

as though we had never been here.

Biblical scholars believe David wrote this psalm later in life. It starts out cheerfully enough, reflecting on the Lord’s faithfulness and goodness. It opens with the famous line “Bless the LORD, O my soul” and goes on to praise the way God heals us, redeems us, forgives us, and is merciful to not deal with us as our sins deserve. This psalm is full of verses you’ve heard, and maybe some you’ve memorized. It’s like an Olympic-level passage, bringing together the best statements into a single team of thanksgiving.

Eventually, though, we arrive at verses 15 and 16. They seem to come out of left field. They can leave us downright discouraged. If these verses are for real, how can David praise? Maybe he should have stopped writing after verse 14?

His claims of life’s brevity, death, and the fact that most of us will be forgotten are tough to swallow. But the fact is that both Old and New Testaments portray our lives metaphorically as grass … a vapor … a mist … a breath. I can’t find many descriptives that encourage us the way we would like, such as plenty … long … remembered … or permanent.

The older we get, the clearer our mortality becomes. The weightiness of this brings up feelings and emotions around how we have spent our time here on earth—for better, like David, or for worse. If you believe you’ve lived a life of meaning, your heart is more likely to overflow with gratitude. You reflect on how God has faithfully used you to accomplish his purpose and blessed you along the way. But if the opposite is true, you might be sinking into regret, bitterness, and fear.

Our world somehow makes it perfectly acceptable to stay off-purpose long enough that we eventually miss the target by a long shot. A rocket, if it leaves earth one degree off its intended line, will miss the moon by thousands of miles. The inaccuracy in our lives is hard to notice until later in the mission when we ask, “How did that happen?” Ernest Hemingway depicted this well through a character from his book The Sun Also Rises who was asked, “How did you go bankrupt?” His reply: “Two ways—gradually and then suddenly.”

How can we really know if we’re tracking toward praise or remorse?

Imagine you’re at the end of your life and you’re having a conversation with your present self. List all the different ways you spend your time now. Then, one by one, ask your future self this question: “Will I wish I had just a little more time to do more of this thing?” The answer to this question will press your daily actions into better alignment.

It’s likely you’re overdoing certain actions or priorities; we all do. Maybe it’s work, fitness, fun activities, trips, television, news, social media, self-care, accumulating things, or political activism. Many of these are good things. But if we lack a clear target, they tend to steal too much time that should otherwise be allocated toward purpose.

Our future self is always going to yearn for just a few more moments to teach that loved one, serve that hurting person, start that group, speak encouragement into a friend’s life, cook a meal for that person in need, or step out to start that ministry or business. But we just “don’t have the time,” we think.

We all are crafting a legacy, whether intentional or not. It’s the accumulation of how we live each day, what we’re doing with the time we’ve been given. This doesn’t require cheating your life of activities that bring you joy. It’s rather making sure your primary narrative is living a life of meaning. That’s what you’re ultimately going to value.

Granted, it can be hard and exhausting to fight for each day. But better to be exhausted and praising than rested and regretful.

Your future self is very wise and will guide you well. If applied consistently to your daily actions, your future self can ensure you’ll be praising in the end, just like David. He lived a life full of purpose. Did he make off-target mistakes? You bet—and you will, too. But he pursued his calling at the expense of himself. In the end, facing the harsh truth in verses 15 and 16, it did not subvert his song of thanksgiving.

Grab hold of his example, with each day begin to pen your future refrain, one realignment at a time.