How the People We Admire Shape Our Values

The women—and mentors—we admire often leave fingerprints on our lives in ways we don't recognize until years later.

There is a little bridge you have to cross to get onto the barrier island where I live in northeast Florida. If you're picturing sugar-white sand beaches lined with rows of palm trees, you might be surprised. This is old Florida–more southern low-country than Miami. Think marsh grass swaying with the tide, old live oaks draped in Spanish moss, winding creeks deep enough for boats, and yes, a few palm trees mixed in for good measure.

People come out this way for all kinds of fishing. It’s not unusual to see someone pulled off to the side of the road fishing on the bridge I have to cross to get on the island. 

As I drove over the bridge this week, I noticed a man down by the water. I found myself wondering what he was hoping to catch. Shrimp? Redfish? Blue crabs? Mussels?

I honestly had no idea. Then I caught myself thinking something unexpected. I wish I were the kind of person who knew these things.

You know how your mind works sometimes? One thought leads to another, then another, and before long you're somewhere completely different.

As I drove, lost in thought, I realized why I didn't know much about life on the water. Although I grew up near rivers, my mom simply wasn't drawn to fishing or boating. My memories are of walking to the riverbank, sitting quietly by the water, and swimming on hot summer days. They are some of my favorite childhood memories, but they didn't include fishing, boating, or learning the rhythms of the tide.

And just like that, my thoughts drifted to someone I hadn't thought about in quite a while.

Leona.

Before I tell you about her, let me tell you what I realized as I crossed that bridge. I wasn't really thinking about fishing anymore. I was thinking about how the people we admire shape our values. So much of who we become is influenced by the ordinary people God places in our lives. Their habits become familiar. Their passions become contagious. Their character leaves an imprint we often don't recognize until years later.

Leona was one of those people for me.

The People We Admire Shape Our Values

Curiosity, Adventure, and Lifelong Learning

When I was young, our family moved from California to Washington State to be closer to my mom's best friend, Leona, and her family. She was one of those women who seemed capable of learning anything. Even when she didn't know something, she'd learn it so well it felt like she'd been doing it her whole life.

One of my favorite memories is going out to gather mussels with her. I remember the mud more than anything. Every step made that unmistakable suction sound as my rubber boots sank deeper into the tidal flats. I was convinced I was going to lose a boot with every step. I laughed while trying to pull my foot free, wondering how people did this without getting stuck. It was messy, cold, and completely different from anything I'd ever experienced. And I loved it.

When we got home, the lesson wasn't over. Leona showed me how to clean the mussels and how to get them to open their shells. Looking back, I realize she wasn't simply teaching me how to gather food from the water. She was introducing me to a way of living. She taught me to stay curious, to learn new things, and to not be afraid of getting a little muddy in the process.

She also nurtured my love of the ocean, good food, travel, and different cultures. Those interests became part of who I am, not because she sat me down to teach them, but because I watched her live them.

Generosity, Hospitality, and Finding Joy

As I kept driving, another woman came to mind. Cathy.

I first met Cathy when our family started attending a new church. I was a teenager, and she was probably in her mid-thirties. I thought she was totally awesome. It was the 1980s, after all.

I remember one Sunday she wore glitter hairspray to church. Throughout the morning, little flecks of glitter kept falling onto her shoulders. She laughed about it, and it became a running joke that she had "sparkling dandruff."

But the funny thing is, she really did sparkle.

Not because of the glitter, but because of who she is. Everything about Cathy sparkled then—and it still does today.

Cathy has a way of making every person she meets feel seen, welcomed, and genuinely cared about. She encouraged my love of style and even let me borrow her clothes from time to time. She bought me my first espresso drink, and I've been hooked ever since. She nurtured my love of travel and showed me what generosity looks like in everyday life. To this day, I still think she's one of the most generous people I've ever known.

The Gift of True Friendship

Then there was Patty. Patty taught me how to be a friend.

We were inseparable for years. We loved adventures, although "well planned" probably wouldn't be the phrase I'd use to describe them. Somehow we always seemed to end up with a flat tire, getting lost, or dealing with some other unexpected mishap. We were usually underprepared, but we always figured it out.

More importantly, Patty made me feel capable.

She helped me believe I could handle more than I thought I could. We laughed our way through life's inconveniences, and somewhere along the way, my confidence quietly grew.

Patty and I still talk regularly—usually every few weeks or at least once a month. She's been a constant in my life since I was thirteen. Looking back, I realize she didn't just teach me how to be a friend. She has spent more than forty years showing me what faithful friendship looks like.

Some of Our Greatest Mentors Are People We've Never Met

Learning Faith Through the Words of Catherine Marshall

Then there are the mentors we've never actually met.

Years later, after moving to Spokane, I found myself in a season where I was traveling constantly for work. I knew people, but I didn't have many close friendships. Between airports, hotels, and long workdays, there wasn't much opportunity to cultivate deep relationships.

Around that time, my mom gave me a copy of Beyond Ourselves by Catherine Marshall.

As I read it, something unexpected happened.

It felt as though she were sitting across the table from me. Catherine Marshall had been gone for nearly twenty years, yet through the pages of that book she became one of my mentors. She challenged me to trust God more deeply, surrender the things I couldn't control, and choose forgiveness when it wasn't easy.

It was exactly what I needed during that season of my life. That experience reminded me that some of the people who shape us never know our names. Their influence reaches us through books, sermons, music, conversations, and stories written decades before we were born.

What the People We Admire Reveal About Our Values

Years ago, when I worked as a therapist in an intensive outpatient program, I'd often ask clients to imagine hosting a dinner party. They could invite anyone they wanted—living or dead, famous or ordinary—as long as they admired them.

Once they had their guest list, I'd ask a simple question:

Why did you choose them?

That's when the real fun began.

As we talked through their answers, I'd often point out something they hadn't considered. The qualities they admired most in those people were often qualities they already possessed themselves. They simply hadn't recognized them yet.

Their answers were all different. Some admired courage. Others admired wisdom, creativity, resilience, faith, kindness, or generosity. But beneath every answer was the same invitation: to recognize the values that had quietly become part of their own lives.

Choosing the People Who Continue to Shape Us

Psychologist Albert Bandura spent much of his career studying how people learn. His work on social learning theory suggests that we learn not only through direct experience, but by observing the people around us. We watch how they respond to hardship, how they treat others, what they value, and even how they carry themselves. Over time, those observations quietly shape our own beliefs and behaviors.

When I think about Leona, Cathy, Patty, and even Catherine Marshall, none of them ever sat me down to teach me a lesson.

Leona didn't lecture me about curiosity.

Cathy didn't give a presentation on generosity.

Patty didn't teach a class on friendship.

Catherine Marshall never knew I existed.

They simply lived—or wrote—in a way that left fingerprints on my life.

Scripture echoes this same principle. Proverbs 13:20 says, "Walk with the wise and become wise, for a companion of fools suffers harm" (NIV). The people we walk alongside matter. Their lives influence ours, often in ways we don't fully recognize until years later.

One of the gifts of getting older is realizing we still get to choose many of those influences. We can invest in friendships that make us better. We can seek out mentors. We can read books that challenge and encourage us. We can spend time with people whose character we hope to emulate.

A Few Questions to Consider

As I finished crossing that bridge, I found myself asking questions I hadn't expected.

• Who has quietly shaped the person I've become?

• What qualities have I inherited from the people I've admired?

• What values have become part of my life simply because someone else lived them well?

And perhaps the most important question of all:

What fingerprints am I leaving on the people around me?

If you were hosting that dinner party today, who would you invite?

Now ask yourself why.

You may discover that the qualities you admire most aren't random at all. They may reveal the values that have quietly taken root in your own life. They may also reveal the kind of legacy you're already building.

The Legacy of an Ordinary Life

As for me, I still don't know exactly what that man under the bridge was catching that morning. But I'm grateful he made me pause long enough to remember the people who helped shape the person I've become. It turns out the greatest things we gather in life aren't always found in the water.

Sometimes they're found in ordinary people who choose to live ordinary lives with extraordinary faithfulness. A woman who invites a young girl to gather mussels on a muddy beach. A friend whose generosity changes the way you see the world. A lifelong friend who has faithfully walked beside you for more than forty years. An author whose words continue to point readers toward Christ decades after she has gone home to be with Him. None of them may ever know the full impact they had. That's the beautiful thing about influence. We rarely see the harvest of the seeds we plant.

So this week, take a few moments to think about the people who have helped shape your life. If you can, tell one of them. Write the note. Make the phone call. Send the text.

Then ask yourself one final question:

When someone tells the story of their life years from now, what part of that story might include you?