[Disclaimer: I wrote this blog post about a month ago in a moment of complete desperation and exhaustion after what had been a really long couple of months. I told myself I'd never actually publish it. It was a little too revealing and personal and felt like too much of a risk. But I was talking to a good friend today about the Year of Do and how this year has been about taking risks I wouldn't normally take. So...why not write this for the world to read (or, lets be honest, the few and faithful). Why not give a little glimpse into the world of burnout and what happens when we don't trust God. So...here it is. I hope it's helpful for someone to see what I did wrong this year as a Campus Director of a Campus Ministry.]
Today I hit a wall. This morning actually.
I'll spare the details of what led to this point, but needless to say, there I sat, knees pulled up to my chest, in the middle of my bed, crying into my cup of coffee. I felt abandoned. I felt alone. I felt like I had voiced for months that I was heading in this direction, feeling overwhelmed and exhausted, but as the responsibilities continued to pile up, I felt used. Like every spare minute and ounce of energy I had to give had been given, and there I sat, dried up and spent, still falling short of the needs around me. My friends had warned me for months that I was headed in the direction of burn out, and this was it, the moment I had been warned about.
There are really very few moments in my life where I have desperately wished I was married. I can think of maybe two, and usually it is when my car or computer breaks down and I don't know how to fix it. But this morning, as I sat sobbing in my bed, I desperately wanted someone to crawl up next to me, wrap their arms around me, and fight for me when I didn't feel like I had the energy to fight for myself.
But there I sat, alone.
Jesus was not my first pick of people I wanted to run to in that moment. To be honest, I felt like He was partly to blame. If this is what handing your life over to Him looked like, I wasn't sure I could do it anymore. But my roommate, parents, and good friends were all at work, my staff team was busy preparing for the days ahead, and I wasn't even sure how to vocalize what I was feeling in the moment if there had been someone to listen.
So I rolled out of bed, still sobbing, grabbed another cup of coffee, a journal, and my bible, and I climbed back into bed, to vent to the only one available.
I picked up the journal first. I wasn't ready to hear what Jesus wanted to say to me. I needed to vent.
"I need help. I need a rescuer. I feel like everyone else has someone fighting for them, and if I'm honest, I feel abandoned, alone, and a little used. You talk about finding joy in situations that are far worse than this, but I don't know where to find it right now. I'm exhausted."
The journaling went on for a few more pages, echoing a common theme of exhaustion and hopelessness.
Next I pulled out my Jesus Calling book. I wasn't ready to hear from God himself. My heart was still a little bitter. But I could ease my way into it by hearing what other people thought He might say.
April 24: "Rest in the stillness of My Presence while I prepare you for this day. Be still, and know that I am God. I will be exalted among the nations, I will be exalted in the earth!"
And then it hit me, the reason that had led to my current state. I sat up from the fetal position I had been huddled in and loosened the death grip on my cup of coffee.
At some point on staff, I had known that I could never do this job on my own, that I needed God to act and move if we were going to be successful. But, whether it was because I had been distracted by a new ministry and position, or because I had done this so long I had let arrogance slip into my work ethic, somehow, for the past year, I had been doing everything on my own. I didn't trust God to exalt himself, I needed to do it, and I needed to do it perfectly. I didn't trust this ministry to succeed without my constant attention. I needed to be at its beckon call. Deep down, if I was honest with myself, I wanted God to take a backseat while I showed Him how things could really be done.
But it hadn't worked.
I had spent the last few months giving everything I could, but with every criticism or suggestion I heard only one thing, "It's not enough." And it was true, it wasn't enough. I wasn't enough. This ministry, the staff who give so selflessly, the students who show up every week, they needed more than I could give them. They needed someone who didn't have a limit the way that I did, who never faltered in giving love and grace, who would literally move heaven and earth for them. They needed Him: The Strong One, The Everlasting God, The Lord Who Provides, The God of Peace, The Lord The Shepherd.
And so I climbed out of bed, with what felt like hope for the first time in months, knowing that I wasn't enough for what lay ahead of me that day, but that this ministry and the people in it would have everything they ever needed, provided by someone who loved them more than I was capable of.
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