When I was in high school, we were encouraged to choose a “life verse,” a practice I love and encourage teens to do today. The verse I chose was Mark 8:36. My favorite version of it says, “What would you do if you gained the whole world and lost you, the real you? Is anything worth your soul?”

When I chose this verse, I was struggling reconciling my call to ministry. When I finally submitted to my call, I had to do some work to undo patterns that I knew didn’t align with my call. My soul — the piece of me that makes me “me” — was being sacrificed so that I could fit in and be like everyone else. I had to decide that being different was worth it, because I would be living into who God made me to be. Plus, that other stuff wasn’t really “me” in the first place.

For a long time, I didn’t really think about what this verse meant to me again — in fact, eventually I named a new “life verse” as I encountered some new things in my life. That was, until 2022.

In March of 2022, I had finally had enough. I was working my dream job as a youth pastor in a large progressive mainline church. I was living my absolute dream, doing amazing things for the church, community, and even the denomination. But there was something that I had been ignoring for years: an unhealthy work culture. By March I had encountered a number of situations in a matter of months that made me realize the pattern I had seen over the course of 8+ years.

In 2022 my word for the year was “brave.” So, I bravely spoke up. This blog post isn’t about what happened afterwards (I spoke about that very generally on my podcast). But I came out of the experience feeling absolutely heartbroken. Here was this church that I loved with my whole heart and this job that was my literal dream job: but it was costing me too much. I had lost my grip on goodness, sacrificed my self-assurance, and felt incredibly lost. Please read: I loved the people and loved the work. But the particulars around staff culture left me wondering if the work was still good if the leadership wasn’t.

I decided to meet with a pastor friend of mine, and ask for their guidance on my next steps. This was someone who had worked in the same church and had seen the things I had. I asked them — how did you know it was time to leave? And they told me, “I was told that I was the problem in the system. That my issues with the system were actually indicative of my own failures as a leader. So, I set six months on the calendar. In that six months, I focused on myself and allowed ministry to go to the back-burner. At the end of the six months, I was in the best shape I’d ever been in, was the closest to my family that I had been in years, and yet — I was facing the same issues at work. So, that was how I knew it was time to leave.”

I took this counsel literally. I set six months on the calendar. I joined a six-month cohort for women in executive leadership. And for the first time, I set a goal completely for myself. I focused on my health, which ended up being needed — as pursuing this goal resulted in getting surgery that resolved years of chronic pain, pain I had previously ignored.

During this six months, I was retaliated against relentlessly at work for shining light on issues in the church. But I leaned on the strength of my coaching group, my inner friend circle of WYM, and my family. I opened my heart to hear God, and placed up appropriate armor to block out the spiritual warfare I was encountering at work. I was able to hear God, even when things were at their hardest.

One week at a staff chapel, someone taught on Mark 8:36. Their take on the verse was encouraging the sacrifice of self for others. At this moment, something clicked. I had tried that for years. I had ignored my own mental, spiritual, and physical health and reasoned that Jesus taught us to put others before ourselves. And absolutely there is truth to that. But putting others first does not result in total loss of self.

I began meditating on Mark 8:36 again. And I re-imagined the words. “What if you had your dream job, but it cost you your soul?” I started thinking about what my soul is, what she’s worth. And I began fighting for her.

So, I allowed myself permission to dream about what could be, and on the very last day of the six month discernment period, was offered my current gig. My new job consists of things I have been learning about myself over the course of the years, but wouldn’t have sought out if I hadn’t been looking. On one hand, I hate that it took immense heartache to bring me to this point, but on the other hand — I can’t help but praise God for Their provision in this season. Every day I am grateful.

Classic to the personality of a youth minister, God speaks to me a lot through the music and movies that I take in. 2023 was “The Year of Women,” and the stories that women told through media this year deeply resonated with my quest for my soul:

• Beyoncé’s Renaissance album came out in 2022 and went on tour this year. I blared this album every day for a year, especially “Break My Soul,” “Church Girl,” and “Cozy.” My mental health was at an all-time low a year ago, with panic attacks almost every day for months. As I drove to work during this season, I would listen to the affirmations of my soul being worth everything. And just as Beyoncé said to do, I quit my job and dyed my hair.
• I have been obsessed for years with the Broadway musical, Waitress, and it came to theaters this year. Sara Bareilles has been my favorite singer for forever. Waitress is about a woman whose life didn’t look the way she planned. In the end, she chooses herself, even though it means enormous and heartbreaking change. Now, I can look at who I was and admire her strength, while celebrating the life I’ve bravely built.
• Of course, the Barbie movie. At first, I absolutely hated the ending, but now I get it: Barbie left a perfect but plastic world for a real one. And the change, while devastating, was the only choice she could make in good conscience. She knew what life should feel like, and she knew that one she was living was fabricated, not authentic.
• Taylor Swift’s Midnights album. Some people call it a breakup album, I call it her Renaissance. She remembers who she is, comes out of hiding, and reclaims it. She launches a tour celebrating who she’s always been, so that she can shine in the way she always needed to.

These women influenced my decision to choose myself, to choose my soul. To leave the known and embrace the unknown. To leave a job and people I loved, to find peace in my soul. And while I still have grief over different aspects, I also have peace. I hold these things hand-in-hand, damn proud of myself at all the hard things I had to do to be true to myself.

It reminds me of my favorite hymn, one I’ve always had a love-hate relationship with. Mostly because, when you’re having a bad time, it’s the last thing you want to hear.

When peace like a river, attendeth my way. When sorrows like sea billows roll. Whatever my lot, thou hast taught me to say, “It is well, it is well with my soul.”

In 2023, I found peace in my soul. I did a ton of brave things this year, in addition to all of this. All because I fought for my soul.

My life looks very different than it did a year ago, all because I prioritized my wholeness. On Instagram, I posted:

In 2020, I found myself.

In 2021, I found my values.

In 2022, I found my voice.

In 2023, I found my peace.

A friend from my coaching cohort, who walked with me through my discernment process, responded: In 2024, may you find your power.

May it be so.