What August Taught Me About My Worth

Hello from Colorado! Today is Monday, August 31, 2026, and as I look toward the mountains, I realize August taught me more than I expected.

August didn’t give me all the answers. It gave me better questions.

This month, I learned that protecting my peace sometimes means stepping away from the noise. That putting something on hold isn’t the same as giving up. That time is too precious to spend on things that don’t matter. And that caregiving can reveal a depth of love and strength we didn’t know we possessed.

But underneath all of those lessons was something even deeper: worth.

How often do we allow people, circumstances, relationships, or our own disappointments to place a value on us?

That question led me to one that I can’t seem to shake:

Who put a price on you?

I’ve learned that knowing your worth isn’t simply about feeling good about yourself. It changes what you tolerate, where you invest your energy, what you give your attention to, and what you’re willing to walk away from.

When you know your worth, you begin to understand that your peace is valuable too.

And then another question surfaced:

What do I want my name to mean?

Not my accomplishments. Not my titles. Not what I’ve achieved or failed to achieve. My name.

I want it to represent someone who kept searching for truth, loved deeply, cared about family, asked difficult questions, and wasn’t afraid to keep learning. I want my name to represent someone who noticed beauty—a Colorado mountain, a garden, an old photograph, or a family story—and understood that beauty can teach us something about the One who created it.

I don’t have everything figured out, and I’m okay with that. Maybe growth isn’t about having all the answers. Maybe it’s about asking better questions and being willing to let those questions change us.

As I step into September, I’m carrying a deeper understanding of my worth, a greater appreciation for my peace, and a clearer sense of what deserves my attention.

And as I look toward the mountains, I’m reminded of something simple. Sometimes smoke, haze, clouds, or weather hide their outlines, but the mountains haven’t disappeared. They’re still there.

Maybe our lives are like that sometimes. What is real doesn’t cease to exist simply because we can’t see it clearly.

So I’ll keep trusting, keep learning, and keep looking beyond the haze that veils the beautiful Rocky Mountains and the wide skies. I’m ready to move forward, with God’s blessings lighting my path. See you tomorrow, right here from Colorado! ~Annette