On busyness & burnout.

I wrote this a month or so ago in response to a challenge from a friend who caught me drowning in busyness. If you're a kindred spirit who needs permission to say no every once in a while, I hope you find this helpful:

I’m a giver by nature and a peacemaker by birth order. When I see a need, it’s instinctive for me to try to fill it. I recognize that this is not a bad instinct, but that it needs to be tempered by a proper sense of scope.

Not every need is my responsibility.

Those words are unnatural for me to type. As my fingers move across the keys, Scripture verses and prayer fragments spring to my lips. What about loving my neighbors, caring for the “least of these,” sins of omission? Am I not supposed to pour my last two copper coins into the offering plate as it passes by?

I want to spend my life in service to others. The problem that I seem to face, though, is that I’m no longer in charge of the life that’s being spent. I’m not stewarding my time, talents, energies, or affections in a responsible way. There are needs around every corner – friends who need my affection, causes that need my attention, neighbors who need my time. By responding indiscriminately, or by letting others decide which needs warrant my attention, I’m not allowing God to tell me where He wants to use me. I’m listening to others’ voices instead of His. This means that I’m also acting out of my own strength, rather than trusting that God will meet me and equip me for the tasks He’s called me to.

It’s possible that someone might need my help, and that I might be the most well-equipped person to meet their need (because of my particular skill set, or because of my unique relationship with that person, or simply because I have free time), but it might not be God’s will for me to act. It’s possible that the most God-honoring act I can perform would be to say no.

This is hard, because those people might be disappointed in me. They might judge the way that I use my time and my talents. They might be hurt or offended that I’m prioritizing other needs above theirs (which is particularly hard when the needs I’m meeting are my own). Worse, their need might actually not be met. They might be hurting, and saying no means that I have to watch them hurt.

But if I fail to take care of myself, then I can’t be maximally effective at meeting the needs of others. My body and my soul are connected, and they both have limits. I need to eat, sleep, and exercise. I need to play, rest, pray, and work. These verbs are not optional or negotiable. It honors God when I take care of my own body.

Most importantly, though, I need to recognize that my primary devotion is to God. He is not glorified if I pretend that taking care of others is service to Him if it means that I’m on autopilot rather than being responsive to His call for my life. Service enables me to substitute good works for actual devotion. (Why stop and listen when there is work to be done?) 

The most important commandment is to first love God with all of your heart, mind, soul and strength, and the second is “like” it. It doesn’t replace it.