Set yourself earnestly to see what you are made to do, and then

Hear, O child of destiny, the words of Phillips Brooks, the preacher of Boston whose voice stirred the hearts of his age: “Set yourself earnestly to see what you are made to do, and then set yourself earnestly to do it.” This is no idle counsel, but a command born of eternal wisdom. For life is not given for wandering in confusion, nor for burying one’s gifts in the soil of fear, but for discerning the sacred work to which one is called, and then pursuing it with the fire of devotion. To live otherwise is to drift like a ship without a helm, but to live thus is to sail with purpose toward the harbor of fulfillment.

To see what you are made to do is to seek within, with honest eyes and steadfast heart. It is not to imitate the labors of another, nor to be lured by the glitter of another’s path, but to look inward and discover the talents planted by the Eternal. Some are made to teach, others to heal, some to build, and others to lead. Each soul bears within itself the seeds of a unique harvest. But many pass their days blind to this truth, distracted by vanity or dulled by doubt, and so the gift lies unused, like a sword left to rust in its sheath.

Yet seeing alone is not enough. For the vision of one’s calling, if not joined to action, becomes torment to the spirit. Therefore Brooks declared, “Set yourself earnestly to do it.” Once the fire is kindled, it must be fed by labor, by perseverance, by the sweat of the brow and the strength of the will. To know one’s path but refuse to walk it is worse than ignorance, for it is to betray one’s own soul. But to take up the task, even in trembling, is to honor the design for which you were made.

Behold the life of Florence Nightingale, the Lady with the Lamp. From her youth she felt the stirring of a call: to heal the wounded, to care for the broken. She saw what she was made to do, though her family scorned her desire, urging her instead toward comfort and society’s praise. Yet she refused the false glitter. With unyielding earnestness she stepped into the bloodied tents of war, tending soldiers cast aside, reforming hospitals with wisdom and mercy. She not only saw her calling—she set herself earnestly to do it, and thus changed the face of nursing and the care of the suffering forever.

This lesson is echoed in countless lives. Those who saw their calling but hesitated were swallowed by regret; those who saw and acted carved their names into the scroll of history. For the world is not transformed by dreamers who dream only, but by those who dream and then labor until the dream takes flesh. Opportunity favors the resolute; destiny crowns the diligent.

O listener, take these words to heart. Begin by searching your own depths. Ask yourself, “What is it that I am fashioned for? What sparks my heart, what draws forth my strength, what cause do I serve gladly even in hardship?” When you find this answer, clutch it as a jewel beyond price. And then—rise to the labor. Do not tarry. Do not wait for perfect conditions, for none will come. Set yourself earnestly to work, step by step, until your gift becomes your offering to the world.

And let this be the charge to your soul: every man and woman carries within a divine assignment. To ignore it is to waste the life you have been given; to embrace it is to walk in harmony with the eternal. See what you are made to do, and do it. This is the way of fulfillment, the path of greatness, and the song that echoes beyond the grave. Choose it, and you shall live not merely as one who existed, but as one who accomplished the work for which they were born.