When I met her, I noticed first that she had a brand-new beautiful baby. She expertly carried the car seat on one arm and I was jealous of how at ease she was. Our eyes met, across a couple rows at church and I rose to introduce myself. That Sunday and many following, I couldn’t NOT smile, every time I saw her. Her personality with effervescent, a smile that traversed her whole face. I was newly married, and I have no doubt that seeing how she cared for her baby fed my hopes of having babies in the future. She was capable and confident and even before I knew her, thought she was badass.

Our paths crossed again, on and off again and over a number of years, we became acquaintances. It was a few years later still, that I found myself again smiling, as I listened to her voice on my work phone. I said a quick prayer, acutely aware that God had known that I would have the opportunity to provide support many years later, through counseling.

She is a warrior, this one who has battled through many types of trauma, violation and loss. Her story is not mine to tell, other than, she is one who has taught me so much about the courage it requires to deep dive into your own heart, insecurities and fears, in order to create a healthier present and future. She is stronger than she ever imagined she was and continues to inspire those around her. One of my greatest honors was the moment she hugged me and whispered in my ear, “Thank you for giving me my life.” I tried to tell her that she had given herself every bit of her own life back, but was so moved that I couldn’t speak around the lump in my throat….

She would tell me later, with tears in her eyes often she couldn’t believe that people saw her that way and how she was, in reality, crumbling at that very moment at church. She told me how much “I didn’t like you some days of counseling and was so annoyed with the way you asked questions about things I didn’t want to think about.” She explained how there were days she wanted to yell or even quit, but if she had when things got tough, “I wouldn’t be where I am now.” She asked me to say, on her behalf, “that everyone needs a therapist, and that it is worth all the hard days.”

At another point in my life, I sat with a student whose sibling had died by suicide. Even weeks later, the shock was etched deeply in this student’s youthful face. It was nearly impossible for the student to put more than about 10 words together, instead, shaking their head over and over while whispering, “I just don’t know.” This was one of those unforgettable situations when I learned the difficulty and the beauty of just sitting in the silence when there are not necessarily words that can be said. It is an extremely hard thing, to sit next to someone when they need silence and intentionally avoid filling that holy space with unnecessary words because of our OWN discomfort. I still learn the art of this every day and occasionally feel like I do ok….

Still another, who was both so feisty and also badass, and tender and wounded underneath her carefully crafted tough exterior. She became a mom while still a teen, was bound and determined not to be defined by her age. She was prone to react to anyone who looked or spoke to her negatively, most times reverting to her native language in the heat of what she was trying to convey. My job was to help calm and teach healthy communication. But, true confession? I secretly loved when she switched between the language she had started with and the language she was learning. Beautiful.

 I loved her fire, her laugh and the way she was loyal with every inch of her being, once you had earned her trust, though she did not just hand that out. She and one of her best friends were two of my favorite students that I got to spend time with. When her boyfriend died due to heartbreaking circumstances, I received that middle of the night phone call. I felt capable of so little, but those raw, painful, shocked days allowed some really beautiful conversation. That heartbreak gave me the opportunity to try to show up as I imagined Jesus would. I wanted so badly to take away the gruesome images and even worse pain.

 As I am in the midst of this 28-year career, I am continually amazed, STILL, at the journeys I am privileged to witness and walk beside. There are so many I could tell you about: the ones that I will never know how their lives played out, others I will never stop praying for and still others who have passed away. There are still others beyond that who I get to witness in awe, find their lives again or maybe for the first time.

It is an incredible thing to sit across from someone and support, walk beside and encourage as they plod and weep some weeks, many days want to roll their eyes or even swear at me, grow in awareness and self-worth during other sessions.  It is, hour after hour, of finding the beauty and bravery, acknowledging the whole gamut of human emotion and experiences, the joy of being given the best seat in the house as God reveals his truth to those he dearly loves. Throughout the process of holding others and helping them honor some of their deepest pain, people often share with me, “this is the truest to myself I’ve ever felt.” The thin veil of both/and is a great example of nuance.

Nuance, defined by the Oxford Languages: a subtle difference in or shade of meaning, expression, or sound. I love the learning process of discovering our own nuances, the nuances around us in the world, in our work and how we learn to care. I am fascinated when I can further understand the nuances of the Bible. I hope to learn as much as I can this side of Eden.

I love the depth of Hebrew translation. During a recent conversation with my friend and Pastor, Ross, he explained the Hebrew word, “nephesh.” It literally means “throat” and “as far as human beings are concerned, the Hebrew understanding of the word is, “the entire person, body and soul; It is not the human being has a soul, rather a human being is a soul.” Another part of the definition says, “soul as the seat and support of feelings and sensations.” This particular conversation felt like finally having a word for the fullness of life, the deep resonating sigh and the thought, yes, that is EXACTLY how I feel: that my whole being, belongs to the Lord God; that what I feel, I feel with my whole being because that’s what he intends for me.

For me, to begin understanding nephesh, is to understand love more fully and completely. Always, the tremendous and extravagant love of my Creator that changes and teaches me, guiding my entire being (my nephesh) to love and want more of him. The love of family, friends, the specific gifts we are given, that it how I know how to give and receive love, throughout my whole being.

It is my heart (and nephesh) that is so right, and whole in my calling these days and difficult spaces with clients, bravely facing difficult and complex trauma. It is the richest, holiest work. I get to talk with teens and parents who are entering the weird and wholly world of all things, college. Which one? Where? When? How do I pay for it? The biggest question I get asked and with a lot of frequency is this: “What if I don’t know what I want to do (for the rest of my life?) My answer is typically something like, “that feels like a lot of pressure right now, huh?” Then I usually let them in on a secret: ”you’re not supposed to know yet. It will come, that answer. It WILL show itself. Your job is to get familiar with that voice (some say conscience, some say intuition, still others call it the Holy Spirit) inside you that helps you just figure out the next few steps. Just one, then another. One at a time.”

Nephesh is also, the real-life blessings, both simple (the perfect tea cup, Earl Grey Steep Tea), a good laugh with the kids and the complex emotions: acknowledging that deep fear that flutters in my stomach multiple time a day with the idea of our oldest daughter and senior year. It is the fullness of relationship, a piece of my Mama’s peach/blueberry pie, straight out of the oven. It is the full-body worship of Never Lost, (look for this reference in the previous blog post)and the pure joy of our pups. For me, all of these are gifts from God, an outpouring of his rich, deep love because he is the one who knows me completely, my nephesh.

It is gazing at a one-in-a-trillion, orange, pink and yellow sunset and the surf of Lake Michigan, riding next to the beautiful horses when we bike to Windmill and waiting for them to approach me; their velvet noses, rippling muscles and eyes as deep as inky night skies, evoking deep gratitude for God’s every created thing. My soul leaps, feeling the fully-alive presence of Jesus in hymns new and old; riding in the car with my love, talking about everything and anything, noticing rolling hills and dreamy houses. It is praying hope over the future, watching our kids thrive, grow and learn (even the hard lessons.) It is relishing good food, (ice cream!) laughter, writing and building relationships. It is the safety of authentic lament and the joy of worship.

My soul, my whole soul craves the words, the peace that ONLY comes for me as I quiet down, remember the words, “The LORD your God is in your midst, a mighty one who will save; he will rejoice over you with gladness; he will quiet you by his love; he will exult over you with loud singing.” Zephaniah 3:17.

My soul is full. My being, my life, in the most joyful, peaceful AND the heartbreaking moments, is STILL full.

My soul, my entire being, is what God says it is – strong, brave, broken, sinful, Sprit-filled and not yet all that God says it will be.  My soul IS the now and not yet, all because I have Jesus.

My soul aches, yearns for healing, peace and comfort as I do the work I do, or in the midst of friends struggles, or even my kid’s pain that is anticipated, but so difficult in their teenage years. The tears that come in the throes of beloved friends’ divorce, a loved one grappling with a difficult diagnosis, or the unanswered whys; even these…are part of my nephesh. As much as I long for healing, reconciliation, or ease in dealing with unthinkable pain, the belief that He created each of us with the entirety of our whole being and that he will redeem every part of our nephesh is the most important belief I have.

It is all nephesh, to me. God-breathed, God adored, you. He is cultivating, working and loving you through all the hard parts, the parts that take you away from who you truly are.

Another of my favorite verses, ^” For in him all things were created: things in heaven and on earth, visible and invisible, whether thrones or powers or rulers or authorities; all things have been created through him and for him.  He is before all things, and in him all things hold together.” Colossians 1:16-17

I cling to the very thought of HIM, being IN ALL THINGS, FOR ALL THINGS AND HOLDING IT ALL TOGETHER: our nephesh. How we care for each other, how we love (each other and ourselves,) how we stand up for each other, how we worship and how we enjoy every GOOD AND PERFECT GIFT.

May we not be afraid to live into the very way we were created, without fear, being true to our nephesh. May we notice everything from the beautiful, complex, simple and tragic with the emotions they all deserve and may we experience God himself in everything. May we trust him even when it feels impossible….

Pure JOY!

Both/And

Colossians 1:17