The Fog is Rising: Musings on Value and What Really Matters

“Try not to become a man of success. Rather become a man of value.” 

Albert Einstein 

My eyes dart across my computer screen toward the bright blue and silver mist gleaming outside our living room’s giant picture window. The fog is rising. Some mornings these condensed cloud formations hover softly above the valley below and seem to disappear; other mornings, they rise quietly—steadily gaining altitude until they blanket our wood cabin in all-consuming grey. I glance out toward the horizon and all I can see now are dark shadows of Spruce, Alder, Willow, and Birch trees; the faint outline of their leaves are vaguely yellow, and as the fog rolls in, even those colors disappear into gray.

Salt-water streams fed by reservoirs of discomfort and change, have become the new ‘normal’ for me in the days since I wrote last. The whimsical-optimist side of me sat down to tea with my analytical-realist self and my excitement over our recent move hastily became obscured by the reality of our living situation—hundreds of miles away from my closest connections in Seattle and southern California, and just as far in this season from my parents and sisters as the previous one. I recognize, intellectually, that moving to a completely different location should be like this—initially difficult, filled with moments of regret but also exhilarating—because I chose this, knowing, to a certain degree it’d be hard. But I didn’t know it’d be this hard. I didn’t realize that I’d miss my friends this deeply. Or, that I’d yearn for the depth of community and teaching that we experienced at our former church in Seattle. I didn’t expect that entering into family living would challenge my nature as an introvert as much as it has. I guess, in short, I didn’t expect things to be this way.

I am thankful that in this time of transition, when my hope for the future is blurred by current struggles, I am finding that a deeper foundation lies beneath the shifting sands of emotion. I’m rooted in who I am in the Lord, and I trust in Him to provide the things that Ken and I need to navigate this new season with grace and gratitude. I’m also learning how to wait, patiently, for the revelation of God’s promises—promises to go before us, to provide for us, to comfort us, to grow us in our faith, and to love us. He is Good. And perhaps, I would never learn how to unabashedly confess my weaknesses and inability to ‘make things happen’ on my own if it were not for seasons of adversity, where many expectations seemingly go unmet.

I suppose, in many ways, this blog has become a ‘safe place’ for me, where I am able to live vulnerably and admit that I’m nowhere near perfect. I’m a work in progress and I’m fighting to live a life that has value. Lately, as I’ve pondered the fresh beginnings my husband and I are embarking upon here in Alaska, I have noticed subtle changes taking place in my life. Especially as I launch my own business in a new state. A particular conversation I recently had with one of my cousins reaffirmed my sense of value in what I do for work. It also reminded me that who I am apart from my work is equally valuable, or perhaps more so, and that naturally, who I am and who I strive to be overflows into all areas of my life. The choices I make in who I market myself as in the business world must correlate with how I’m living as a wife, a family member, a friend, a believer. So, as I focus on what business goals I’d like to meet and what successes I’d like to see in my career, I’m drawn back to these words by Albert Einstein, which I stumbled on a while back: “Try not to become a man of success. Rather become a man of value.”

Living in the tension of who I am and who I want to be has value. 

Loving others well has value.
Discomfort has value.
Being honest has value.
What God is doing in me in this unique season has value.

“Praise the Lord! I can see something!” Ken exclaims as he peers out the window.

My thoughts are interrupted as my husband shouts happily that he can see a hint of light. He jumps up and down and repeats his words to me. I pause to take in the sudden transformation taking place outside. The sky is brighter; light blue patches start to appear in the distance, and I can tell that the sun is out.

 
It’s refreshing to finally see a glimpse of light breaking through. It was there the whole time, just hiding.