Why I Burned Out Instead of Asking for Help
Broken
A year ago I resigned my church and relocated my family of five (soon to be six) back home. I left burned out, hurting, and terrified that I might not make it back spiritually, mentally, and physically to the person I once was.
It’s been over a year now and I’m doing so much better. By the grace of God and the compassionate support of family and friends, I’m on the road to recovery. I’m a better father, husband, and Christian than I was a year ago. God is also reigniting my passion and re-framing my calling. I’ve got a way to go, but I’m actually pointed and headed in the right direction. I’m excited about what God has in my future. Which is something I couldn’t say a year ago.
During a round of golf recently, I relayed a portion of my ministry burnout story to a friend. His response is the inspiration behind this post. He said “I’m so sorry I didn’t offer to help you during that time. I had no idea you were that bad off.”
I’ve known this guy since we were kids but I don’t see him very often. Although we don’t have an intimate friendship, he sincerely did regret not helping me. He really did hurt for me and that touched me very deeply.
I thanked him for his empathy and relayed to him why I never gave him a chance to step in and pull me out of my ever-worsening predicament. He could have. And I know he would have. But I never asked him to.
Here’s why: I didn’t ask for help because I didn’t know how bad off I was until it was too late.
I was the proverbial frog in the kettle.
The Frog in the Kettle
If you’re not familiar with The Frog in the Kettle, here’s the Wikipedia synopsis:
The boiling frog is an anecdote describing a frog slowly being boiled alive. The premise is that if a frog is placed in boiling water, it will jump out, but if it is placed in cold water that is slowly heated, it will not perceive the danger and will be cooked to death. The story is often used as a metaphor for the inability or unwillingness of people to react to or be aware of threats that occur gradually.
When I planted LifePoint Church in 2008, the water was fine. By about year 3, the water started to heat up, however.
Here are a few things that incrementally turned the flame up on me:
First — FAILURE
Over about a two-year span there was a slow but sure trickle of people out the door and not many came in. Especially in the way of conversions.
Second — FINANCIAL PRESSURE
Due to the loss of people we began to struggle financially.
Third — GROWING FAMILY
It goes without saying that our children are an unspeakable blessing. The amount of financial, physical, and emotional demand that raising them brings cannot be ignored, however. We had three of them during this time span.
Fourth — GOING BIVOCATIONAL
Due to the financial pressure I added teaching public school to pastoring. There were many things I loved about teaching but it was an emotional and physical drain every single day. Not to mention a major diversion of my focus on ministry.
Fifth — SICK CHILD
My oldest son began having terrible seizures at four years old. He almost died during one of them. It was hard to not be on edge constantly, wondering when the next one would hit. His medication had challenging side effects as well…it basically made him a wild child…I mean a really, really, wild child!
Sixth — MORE FINANCIAL PRESSURE
Birthing children. Raising young children. Neurological appointments. MRI’s. Seizure Meds. Ambulance Rides. Diapers. Wipes. Repeat.
The Net Increase of Stress
In a vacuum, the list above could appear to be just a normal progression of life. So let me pause here and say three things:
· I’m very blessed. Many face things so much more challenging than I have. My point in writing this list not to whine about my plight but point out the mechanics of how stress mounts.
· I’m not advocating that you run for hills at the first sign of stress in your life. I believe in resilience, work ethic, and flexibility. I also believe, of course, that a faith response to our trials makes us stronger.
· There are lots of positives on the list. Having and raising children is a joy. Teaching school alleviated financial pressure, provided ministry opportunity daily, and brought a sense of achievement. I pastored a great bunch of people that loved me and I loved them.
The problem with the list is that there was a significant net increase in stress over the course of four years.
For every extra pressure that was piled onto my plate, there wasn’t enough taken off to maintain balance. And before I knew it, the water was boiling. I was battling depression. My heart was hard. I couldn’t connect with God.
The Only Course of Action
Although the decision to stand up in front of the flock that I shared such a beautiful bond with for 7.5 years was the hardest one I’ve ever made, it was also one that saved my life.
Yes, I prayed about taking less radical options such as taking a sabbatical or bringing in another minister to fill the pulpit while I caught my breath.
The extreme measure of stepping away from pastoral ministry, uprooting my life, and returning home wound up being my only course of action, however. Why? Because I let the water get too hot. I was too far gone emotionally, physically, and spiritually for a minor course correction to suffice.
Why I Didn’t Ask for Help
So why didn’t I ask for help earlier in the process? Perhaps reaching out for help could have prevented many sleepless nights. I probably could have avoided being pulled down into the black hole of depression for days at a time if I had just cried out. Why didn’t I ask?
Sure, I have the male ego thing, I have the independent streak thing, and a bunch of other things that played into me not getting help.
But the main reason I didn’t ask for help is that I didn’t know just how hot the water was becoming.
Check Your Temperature
My hope in writing this post is to help someone jump out of the kettle long before I did.
So when do you jump ship?
Or when do you simply make a minor course correction?
That’s what you need to get serious about deciding. My plea for you today is to wake up and do a precise temperature check.
Everyone’s situation is different. Everyone’s threshold for pain is different. Everyone’s calling is different.
But the boiling point of water is the same for everyone. 212 degrees Fahrenheit.
What’s your temperature?
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