First Wednesday of Advent
Scripture Reading for Today:
How Burnout Prepared Me For This Year
Last year I burned out. Before the world hit a pandemic pause, my own world halted. Looking back, I can see now that disruption was a gift to me. But at the time I only felt exhausted.
My life was hectic for several years: stressful job, family deaths, marital struggles, health scare, the list goes on. I felt pulled in every direction and weighed down by others’ expectations. This is life, I thought, everyone’s doing this. So, I endured the endless obligations and ignored the warning signs from my body.
Until I crashed.
I just started a new job when I suddenly realized I had nothing left. Physically, mentally and spiritually done. I had forced myself to keep up, not realizing I was running a race that wasn’t mine to run. I chased a dream others created for me and it nearly broke me. Burnout taught me how to thrive.
Not that I’m thriving yet, but I’ve learned so much from it.
As I reflect on the past year, I realize many of you can relate. Life has been disrupted. 2020 is marked by turmoil, disappointment and uncertainty. We’re enduring a coronavirus pandemic, economic volatility, and cries for long-awaited racial justice. Though the U.S. presidential election results have given us reason for hope, it still feels unresolved. Need I say more?
We’re scared. Stressed. Tired. It’s like we’re running a marathon at a 1K pace.
If you haven’t experienced burnout yet, you’re likely seeing some warning signs. This year has been hard. And I’m sorry to say it, but we still have difficult days ahead of us. I wish the troubles would end soon just like I wished I could recover quickly from the exhaustion that burnout brings. But it’s a long, slow process that requires patience.
Making it worse, I struggled to hear God in that time. I wish I could say the opposite, but God wasn’t my priority at my lowest point. I was focused on survival, rest and rediscovering the joy in life’s simple things. The shame I felt for not desiring prayer and worship was nearly as heavy as burnout itself.
As I reflected on the verses above in preparation for this Advent season, I realize He was speaking all along.
The cries in Psalm 79 feel timely for us: “May your mercy come quickly to meet us, for we are in desperate need.” You’ve likely heard (or cried) something similar with all that’s gone on this year. Work, school, church—life has been disrupted. We’ve spent birthdays and holidays in lockdown, cancelled vacations and adjusted to ever-changing rules. You may wonder if God has forgotten us or if these are signs of the end times.
What I want to point out is that even though it starts in despair, the verse ends in hope that we’ll praise again. And I want to believe that.
We read in Luke 21: “Be careful, or your hearts will be weighed down with…the anxieties of life.” Thankfully, I’m not reflecting on the full chapter because the preceding lines are about the end of the world. Though that day will come, that’s not where we focus. Jesus set the example for us: faithfully do as you’ve been asked and take time to rest. Instead of worrying, be faithful in the simple things.
This verse has a deeper meaning for me on this side of burnout because that’s how I recovered. I simplified my life. I started saying no to the things and people that robbed me of time and energy. It was hard, but necessary. The pandemic gave me further permission to cancel commitments and simplify my life to its essentials: caring for my family, caring for myself and encouraging others.
I didn’t hear God speak those words to me in my low time; He silently placed them on my heart.
I wasn’t engaged with God in my usual ways and, admittedly, I wasn’t looking to Him. But still, He mercifully met in the places He invited me into long ago. Life’s disappointments aren’t expected or welcome, yet we can often find a gift in them. Sometimes, these disruptions—though bad—can bring about good.
That’s not to say it’s easy—because it’s not. These times have, however, made me aware of how differently I respond when I trust, rest and find simple ways to serve.
The passage from Micah offers a perfect vision for us in this time of many unknowns. Jesus and others returned to a destroyed and abandoned Israel to “stand and shepherd his flock.” “And they will live securely.” “And he will be our peace.” Even after disruption, there will be peace. We can confidently carry on because of His strength. Regardless of how life changes, we can live securely.
Though we don’t know how the next few months or years will unfold, we can choose faith and trust.
Recovering from this year—just like recovering from burnout—won’t be easy. It’s a long process that requires patience. My prayer for you is that you’ll find peace amid disruption and rediscover joy in simplicity.
I hope you find ways to rest and recharge like Jesus spending the night on the hill. Write in a journal, sit in silence, walk in nature, read, go to bed earlier. I hope you find simple ways to serve. Jesus was called to teach but maybe your call is to care for family and friends by sending an encouraging text, checking in, or giving them quality time.
However you’re feeling these days, I hope you believe that one day we’ll praise again.
Devon Cornelius will be our guest in the Learning Centre tomorrow at 1:30pm ET. If you’d like to join in the conversation, please SIGN UP here!
Thank you for reading the New Leaf Advent Reader, a collection of reflections from writers across Canada. If you are enjoying the reader, sign up to receive the readings in your inbox each day here: SIGN UP
And please share this reflection with your friends and family who might also enjoy it.