Actually, because God is Spirit, focusing on physical traits is irrelevant.
The incarnation was God's HS indwelling the physical body of Jesus,
and when Jesus said those who knew him have seen God, he was not referring to his body, but to his words/Truth.
Here is a cut / paste from within my commentary on the Book of Daniel:
Reflective narrative:
Dust, Breath, and the Making of a Living Soul
From the very beginning, Genesis invites us to listen carefully—not only to the words it uses, but to the story those words are wrapped in. One detail that can trouble thoughtful readers is this: the phrase often translated “living soul” in Genesis 2:7 is the same Hebrew expression used for animals in Genesis 1. If both man and beast are described as nephesh chayyah— “living beings”—does that flatten the difference between them? Are humans, in God’s eyes, just another animal with more vocabulary? Genesis itself will not let us draw that conclusion.
In Genesis 2:7 we are given a simple, holy sequence: “The LORD God formed man of the dust of the ground, and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life; and man became a living soul” (v.7). The order matters. First God forms the man from dust—Adam’s body, senses, and natural capacity for mind and consciousness are crafted by God’s own hands.
Then comes the turning point: God breathes into his nostrils the breath of life, and this is the moment the text defines as Adam becoming nephesh chayyah. The breath is not a small detail; it is the hinge of the scene. Genesis is not merely telling us that Adam is alive, but that his life is personally bestowed—formed by God, and enlivened by God’s breath.
Animals, too, are called nephesh chayyah in Genesis 1, but notice how differently their story is told. God speaks, the waters and the earth bring forth living creatures, and they are declared to be nephesh chayyah—living beings. God gives them life, and they move, breathe, and fill the earth. The same phrase is used, and the shared language tells us that both animals and humans receive their life from God. Yet Scripture lingers over Adam in a way it does not linger over the animals. It does not pause to describe God forming an animal from the dust and breathing into it the breath of life in the same intimate, hands-on sequence. That personal formation-and-breathing scene is reserved for Adam alone. The shared term joins humanity to the living creation; the special narration marks humanity as uniquely addressed by God.
This is where the image of God enters the picture. Humanity is not made “in the image” merely because it is alive, or even because it can think. Genesis 1 makes the distinction plain: mankind is created in God’s image and likeness (v.26–27). Genesis 2 then gives us the close-up: dust shaped by God’s hands, life imparted by God’s breath. The words may be shared with the animals, but the calling is not. Man is not only alive; he is created to stand before God, to reflect God, and to bear a likeness Scripture never assigns to the beasts of the field.
And here is an interpretive layer that many readers find compelling—one that the narrative itself seems to invite. Genesis 1 and 2 together show something more: man is made in God’s image because God not only shapes him from dust but also breathes His own Spirit—His holiness—into him. Adam does not just live; he lives as one in whom God’s own righteousness and presence dwell. In that sense, the phrase “living soul” takes on a richer meaning for Adam than it ever could for the animals. The same words are used, but here they are filled with a new weight: man is a living being because God has breathed into him; he is a living soul because that breath is holy.
This interpretive lens also explains the depth of what was lost when Adam sinned. After rebellion, Adam did not suddenly stop breathing.
He remained, in the ordinary sense, a living being. But he was driven from the Garden, cut off from the immediate presence of God. The holiness that once dwelled within him could not remain at peace in a vessel now stained with sin. In this reading, the “death” that begins in Eden is not merely biological; it is relational and spiritual—separation from the life of God.
So one may say it like this: that breath—that Spirit—returned to the One who gave it, for there is no other place in the universe that can hold God’s righteousness but God Himself. Adam continued as a living creature, but no longer as the Spirit-filled living soul he had been in Eden. In a sense, he returned to what he had been the moment before God breathed: dust shaped into a human being, alive now in a natural sense, but emptied of the holiness that once made him truly fit for God’s presence.
Seen this way, the shared phrase nephesh chayyah no longer undermines humanity’s uniqueness; it clarifies it. All creatures live because God gives life. Yet only man is explicitly said to bear God’s image, and only man’s coming-to-life is told with this intimate sequence—formed by God, breathed into by God, and placed before God with a calling that reaches beyond the animal world. And from the moment that holiness departs, the great question of Scripture is born: How will God once again restore His presence to humanity so that we may move from merely being living creatures to once more being what we were made to be—fit for fellowship with Him, able to stand in His presence without shame? That is the story the rest of the Bible tells.
