Navigating Burnout

Have you ever been told you are “just like” someone? Sometimes this compliment can be so sweet. I once had someone tell me I was “just like” their favorite cousin, and because of that they immediately felt safe with me. Those comparisons feel really good. 

But then there are the comparisons you can do without. Like the time my best friend told me the lead character in the movie Bridesmaids was “just like” me. If you haven’t seen it, the main character Annie Walker, played by Kristin Wiig, is kind of a trainwreck. She’s jealous, makes poor life decisions, and is largely ruled by her anxiety. Not exactly the comparison you hope your friend of 25 years makes about you. And though my friend assures me that what she meant was that Wiig’s sense of humor and dramatic facial expressions were what reminded her of me, it was nonetheless a comparison I felt I could do without. 

This happened again a few months ago. The undesirable comparison, not the sweet one. But this time it was me who made the unflattering connection.

My Burnout Prayer

I was taking a rare, quiet moment to talk to God one afternoon about how overwhelming life felt. I shared the endless demands I felt pressing down on me: I’m a stay-at-home mom and a work-at-home mom. My husband and I are in the process of church planting in a new city. I’m trying to find time to connect with my husband and do these things people call “dates.” Oh and also attempting to prioritize that “me time” I hear so much about.

As I continued to pray, I found myself wading into more painful thoughts. Thoughts like whether the work I was doing really mattered. If my job title was too small to make the kind of meaningful influence I want to be making. I even started believing that I was alone in this experience—like these feelings of overwhelm, exhaustion, and detachment were unique only to me. And that I didn’t have a way out. I believed I was alone. I believed I was stuck. 

In case you didn’t catch it, I was burning out. Burnout is a topic most of us are likely familiar with (If you want a quick primer on what burnout is, check out Michaela O’Donnell’s recent video for a really thoughtful explanation). In fact, I’d venture to say that most of us have experienced burnout firsthand at some point. Specifically, I felt one of the three signature markers of burnout: a decreased sense of accomplishment, or feeling like I just can’t make a difference.

And it was then, in the midst of facing these lies, on the edge of burnout, that I made that not-so-flattering comparison. As I prayed, I realized I felt “just like” Elijah. 

Elijah’s Story 

Elijah is potentially one of the greatest prophets in the Old Testament. He lived during the reign of the wicked King and Queen of Israel, Ahab and Jezebel (1 Kings 16:30, 32). These two were actually the worst. They kept busy setting up altars to foreign gods, like Ba’al, while also killing the prophets of God. It’s in this context that God raises up Elijah to be the prophet to call out the evil being committed. Seemingly fearless, Elijah does just that, leaving him with one of the most epic stories in the Old Testament. 

Specifically, I felt one of the three signature markers of burnout: a decreased sense of accomplishment, or feeling like I just can’t make a difference.

In a scene on Mount Carmel, God uses Elijah alone to defeat hundreds of prophets and to demonstrate God’s authority in front of the people of Israel, including King Ahab (1 Kings 18:19). The whole story is wild, dramatic, and exciting, consisting of all-consuming fires and even a little trolling of Ba’al on Elijah’s part. Ultimately, God exhibits incredible power over the prophets and false gods, provoking the people of Israel, including King Ahab, to fall to their knees in acknowledgment of the one true God.

So here is Elijah, finishing the largest, potentially most significant work of his life—and totally nailing it. You would think this would be cause for celebration. But every party has a pooper, and it’s Queen Jezebel in this story. King Ahab returns home to tell his wife what has happened, but rather than bowing to God in reverence and submission, she sends word to Elijah that she intends to kill him. Terrified of the threat, he runs away. 

Here’s where the story turns from painting Elijah as a seemingly untouchable, confident prophet, to revealing him as an ordinary human who is scared, tired, weak, and alone. 

Elijah ends up in the wilderness and at the end of his rope. So much so that he asks the Lord to let him die. He is so tired—so burned out—he just wants it to be all over. And it makes sense, given what he confesses when God asks Eljah what’s wrong. Elijah responds, “I alone am left, and they are seeking my life, to take it away” (1 Kings 19:14, NRSV). 

Burnout has a powerful ability to convince us of very untrue things. We see this in both mine and Elijah’s stories. This is not to ignore the fact that we battle a very real, evil enemy that wants to isolate and lie to us. But it’s also true that being so worn down leaves us vulnerable to that battle being won more easily. In burnout, lies can more effortlessly sneak past our mental guards—and once inside, we are often too weary to fight them off. Burnout works holistically, draining us emotionally, physically, mentally, and spiritually. 

Burnout has a powerful ability to convince us of very untrue things.

And it’s in this moment that I feel “just like” Elijah. Because, like me, Elijah is hearing and believing lies. It seems that Elijah is assuming God has saved only him to do God’s work. But Elijah knows that the job is too big for him alone—he feels the weight that this job is too heavy to carry. And so, burdened and burned out, Elijah believes the lie that he’s alone and he’s stuck—just like me.

God’s Response to Burnout

But don’t worry. Just when Elijah’s story and this article start to feel a bit too bleak, God appears. And it’s in God’s response to Elijah that we find some very practical, loving steps to help navigate our way through burnout. 

First, God tends to Elijah’s physical body. He meets him in the wilderness, brings him food to eat, and lets him fall asleep. Sleep deprivation, decreased physical well-being, and burnout are all part of a vicious cycle that can only worsen if not interrupted. We, too, must never forget that we are limited physical beings who have to care for and respect our physical bodies. 

Second, God meets Elijah in gentleness and in quiet. There’s a lot happening in this moment of Elijah’s story, but what grabs my attention is that the God who used Elijah to perform incredible acts is now choosing to appear to Elijah not as great wind or earthquake or fire, but in silence. Sometimes, silence is the loudest way to get our attention. We should seek to tend to our hearts and minds by quieting our lives in the presence of God, even for a moment. 

Then, God lets Elijah process. He asks Elijah what he’s doing in the wilderness. Elijah shares his pain and the feeling of being alone in it all. This is important: God asks Elijah a question he already knows the answer to. This processing is for Elijah, not God. And that’s because putting our pain into words with someone we trust can actually reduce the feeling of the pain. Saying the words “I feel alone” out loud has the ability to make you feel less alone. This can be done with a professional like a therapist or spiritual director, but it could also just as easily be done with a trusted friend, spouse, family member, or even in prayer. Talking helps. Being cared for helps.

We are active participants in our well-being. We pray, but we can also act. We are not stuck in our burnout.

And in all of this God does not once tell Elijah he’s wrong or that he needs to toughen up and push through. Instead, God tends to his burnout. He cares for his body, meets him without judgment in quiet and gentleness, and lets Elijah talk it out. In all of this, we see that God meets us in our burnout, but he doesn’t magically make it go away. Instead, Elijah’s story reminds us that we can always turn to our gentle God, but also that we can proactively tend to ourselves, just as he tends to Elijah. In the book Burnout, authors Emily and Amelia Nagoski tell us that well-being is “not a state of being; it is a state of action.” We are active participants in our well-being. We pray, but we can also act. We are not stuck in our burnout.

So, maybe being “just like” Elijah isn’t so bad (It’s for sure better than being the trainwreck Bridesmaids character). Being like Elijah in his burnout—exhausted, susceptible to believing lies, feeling alone and stuck—also means an opportunity to draw near to a very loving, gentle, and caring God. It means letting God tend to me in my vulnerability, but it also means actively tending to myself. It means with God I’m never actually alone, never really stuck.