There has been so much death around me this year.
My cousin lost her six-week-old daughter. A coworker lost her nephew. Another lost her father. A dear friend miscarried, while her friends lost a two-week-old baby. All within the span of five months.
In the middle of such a heavy season, the last thing I wanted was more talk of death. So when I saw Dr. Gabrielle Lyon’s latest podcast was on that very subject, I almost skipped it. But something in me pressed “play.” And as uncomfortable as it was, it shifted something in me—especially in how I view my calling in the health space.
Dr. Lyon interviewed Elena Brower, a hospice volunteer who described her work as “presencing people.” Not just being present, but presencing—setting aside self and fully attending to the other person. That is true service from one human to another.
I recognized this in my recent birth. With each contraction, my doula was simply there—breathing with me, reminding me to soften my jaw, drop my shoulders, and breathe when I could. I barely spoke. Under normal circumstances, the idea of groaning like an animal in front of others would have mortified me. But in that sacred bubble, I wasn’t thinking about appearances or how awkward it was. I was just grateful for her presence.
There is something holy about presencing others in their discomfort. Jesus never promised us a life free from suffering. Instead, He promised His Presence. That is the gift we can also offer each other. What an honor it is to offer your presence to someone else as the Lord offers His own.
This is the kind of service I want to bring into my health practice. No matter the challenges, the history, or the list of “what hasn’t worked before,” I want to create a space where shame and fear melt away and hope remains.
Death is inevitable. Perfect health is never guaranteed. The hardest part of life is accepting that we cannot control these things completely. But for as long as I have breath in my lungs, I want to help others move closer to health, to presence them, to serve them, to walk with them—so that every one of our finite days can be more joyful, more peaceful, and more impactful than the last.
Thank you for letting me share this piece of my heart with you. If this resonates with where you are, I want you to know you’re not alone. These words come from my own processing of grief, faith, and purpose, and I hope they encourage you to see your health journey—and even life itself—through a lens of hope and presence. If you want to here more about living without fearing death, Dr. Lyon’s podcast was great, and you can listen to it here.
