August 20th, 2025

Turning the Corner

Early this morning while finishing my coffee, I read a chapter called Turning the Corner in the insightful book, The Art of Slow Writing, by Louise DeSalvo. In it, she describes the moment a writer moves from uncertainty to clarity in the middle of a long writing project. Where doubt once clouded the entire enterprise, in a moment, a new vista opens up. Where previously the writer could not see past the next step, they now know they will complete the work.

Maybe this applies equally to long-term pursuits like a career. Is there a moment when it all comes together? In a moment, work might become more than a paycheck—we might know we will finish well.

Lately, I’ve been content to see my work as God’s way of providing for me. It meets my needs, allowing me time to read, write, and enjoy my family—to have a life. It is a pleasant career filled with interesting challenges and wonderful coworkers. I am grateful for it. Yet I want to see work as a vehicle of self-expression, fulfillment, and purpose, and it can be hard to be content with the plodding daily reality of work that feels mundane. I wish for more. I want to feel proud of myself, to have much more than I need. In short, I want my work to be my salvation—spiritual, physical, relational. Though I know that “godliness with contentment is great gain,” I have a lust for more, but I don’t need more, and work is already more than a paycheck. Would I ever be satisfied? Whatever we do, even if it is purpose-filled and exciting at first, may become predictable and prosaic in time.

So, exercising contentment even when it takes effort, I’ll be faithful and show up for my teammates. One day I may turn a corner and find a new vista open to me. But until then I will be grateful for the work I have to do because it is a gift that meets my financial needs and because people are depending on me to bring my best effort.

Yet if I’m honest, I have already turned the corner. A new vista is open to me. It’s not what you would expect. It’s not about recognition or prestige, and I have no more money than I’ve had in the past. Instead, I glimpse the riches of the life I have lived and the way God has been present with me through it. The story of His work in my life is of greater value than anything else I can imagine, and I have my entire life to learn to share it well.

Harvey A. Ramer
Harvey A. Ramer
Harvey tells the truth about living by faith when faith feels hard. Writing from central Florida, he explores how doubt and trust can coexist, how work can serve calling, and how ordinary struggles become places where God shows up. He offers coaching conversations for successful professionals wrestling with the question: If I'm so successful, why do I still feel empty?