How Burnout Almost Broke Me

Jesus on Burnout

Another Sunday. 60 hours in. I’m drained. 

Haven’t had a break in what feels like 3 months—probably more like 3 weeks.

Rest? Who has time for rest?

I’ve got things to do, moves to make, accomplishments to achieve.

That’s what I tell myself. That’s how I justify the fact that I’m feeling bitter towards the very person I’m preaching about that night.

To be clear: no one told me to do this. No explicit expectation or directive to work myself to the bone was ever said to me.

I’m still happily employed at an incredible church. The church, senior leadership, our congregation—none of those were ever the issue.

It’s always been me.

I’m young, I have ambition, but I’m also an adult. No one’s going to stop me from doing good. As long as I’m, “winning for the kingdom,” everything’s good, right?

I wonder how many people said that about some of the other megachurch pastors who have burned out, flamed out, self-selected or sinned out.

“They’re doing good.”

“The ministry is growing.”

“People are being saved.”

Wasn’t it Jesus who said you could gain the whole world but lose your soul?

Yeah. I felt like I knew what he was talking about.

For context, I’m a high school pastor at a megachurch in the state of Indiana. We operate like a typical megachurch or large organization—fast.  Speed, efficiency and accomplishment is the name of the game. In some aspect, it has to be when there’s a large number of people to serve if you want to do it well. 

By most accounts, my first year of ministry was a success. I mean, people kept showing up, so at the very least, as my friend Rod often tells me, “it didn’t suck.” Every day was a thrill, something new, something different, something I had never encountered or experienced before.

Often, I arose, shocked that I was in charge of, responsible for and overseeing this many people.

“How in the world do they trust me to do this?”

My life was running a million miles an hour and so was my job. But it was fun, so I kept pressing on the gas.

… 

I’m an Enneagram 3—if you’re into that. If not, I’m what they call, “The Achiever.”

Sounds stuck up; I know. Basically, I like to be told good job and that I’m amazing—so yeah, it is sort of stuck up. 

I learned from a young age that the more I achieved, the more I’d be told good job. It was a recipe for creating a hyper-efficient, psycho-analytic being that is me. 

As I jumped into the world of large-scale ministry, it became apparent that the pace was consistently fast.

This is the big leagues, no time to rest. That’s what I told myself, at least. 

It wasn’t enough to be fast. I had to stand out, achieve, take charge. Otherwise, what was I doing? 

It started slowly.

What once took 50 hours during onboarding consolidated to 20 hours as I became more proficient and efficient at my job. So, I added another 40 hours which I was able to consolidate to 20, brining my weekly total to 40 hours—the amount I’d signed my job offer for.

Who does the bare minimum when you want to climb the ladder?

10 more hours, which became 2. Another 10 hours which added 2 more. Another project to run with, another person to see, another event to attend. 

Eventually, every issue, every problem and event became something I had to be a part of. If my schedule wasn’t full, was I even doing my job?

So goes the life of many people these days.

The work doesn’t stop. It never stops. I needed the approval. I was even willing to compromise people for productivity. 

How dare she stop me while I’m in ‘deep work’ mode.

The cycle was poisonous. I was becoming pretentious.

Is this really who I want to be?

Do you find yourself asking the same question? Maybe you’re a banker, an entrepreneur, a stay-at-home mom or an astronaut (if you’re reading this and you’re an astronaut, please email me because I think you’re the coolest—also, how’s space?).

Are you tired of squeezing yourself out of margin? Done with soothing that dull ache of ineptitude with more work, busyness and hurry? Are you ready to find purpose in the pause and presence of life? Ready to begin cultivating a life of margin and meaning? Ready to recapture the moments you’ve been missing?

Keep reading.

My Wake Up Call

I remember sitting down for my first annual review. Naturally I’d given myself 5 stars on most things.

Look at what I’ve done. See how much I’ve accomplished? Seriously, look at all that.

And sure, there was a lot to review and the ratings I received were mostly positive. But then came perhaps one of the most haunting sentences ever spoken to me.

“You had a great first year, but can you do it again?”

To be clear, this wasn’t a trap to get me to reproduce. No, this was a wakeup call that my pace was unsustainable. That even the fast pace of megachurch culture had become a crawl compared to the blurred life I was living.

I had accomplished a lot but for what? A pat on the back? A nice annual review?  

It was in that moment that I started to ask myself some questions that became really tough to answer:

Why am I trying to climb so high, so fast?

Is this the standard being held over me or by me?

Can I maintain this pace?

Can the work ever stop?

Am I allowed to fail or let people down?

What does taking a break say about me and my work ethic?

Some of these questions may seem rational, others I know, are not. But this is where I found myself in May of 2020. And it was in that moment that I decided to quit my megachurch role—and life—as I knew it.

Gut Punch

It was the heart of the COVID-19 pandemic and I was churning out material like never before. 

These people need me.

My team needs me.

Our church needs me to do this.

Again, no directive given, no standard to be upheld. Just a young gun with a lot of ambition and no intentionally sought-after accountability.

Something has to change.

This is just a season, keep going hard and soon, it will pass.

Believe it or not, these two sentences made it into the same journal entry. I promise I’m not suffering from Bi-Polar Disorder.

The real punch to the gut came in July. Two sentences that have altered my life since and forevermore, spoken by two different people.

I remember climbing into bed one night on vacation. Rylei and I were away in the mountains for 10 days. I was unplugged, attempting to lean in and love my wife. Don’t worry, this story doesn’t get PG-13, although I wish it had. 

Instead, I placed my hand on my wife’s leg and was met with one of the coldest looks of disgust I’ve ever received.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“You haven’t pursued me like this in I don’t know how long. Do you realize that?”

Gut-wrenching.

I asked her to explain. She meticulously and accurately dissected how the pace I was living was unsustainable and damaging to our marriage.

Something has to change.

…

A few days later, I’m outdoors, alone and reading. A line pops into my head that could only be from the Holy Spirit.

Micah, you call yourself a follower of Jesus, but you don’t even follow Jesus.

WHAT?!

I’m a pastor. I preach. I teach. I live and breathe the Word of God.

Defensiveness began to settle in, which always means I’m wrong.

Another truth-bomb enters.

You claim to follow Jesus but how does your life pattern after or mirror that of Jesus in any way?

Ouch.

I started to wonder; when is the last time I participated in the practices and rhythms of Jesus?  

When is the last time that I practiced silence and solitude, prayer, fasting, sabbath, simplicity and more? The answer was that I couldn’t remember.

I wasn’t living a life as an apprentice of Jesus, I was living a life as a person who got paid to talk about Jesus.

Something has to change.

And so, something DID change. I quit my marriage, my job and my life as I knew it. I started from scratch and rebuilt everything from the ground up. 

Finding Margin and Discovering Moments

It was in that moment that I decided to re-prioritize everything. I began, first and foremost, with implementing the practices, rhythms and habits of Jesus into my life. I had to start there or I was going to continue merely surviving rather than thriving.  

The question I repeatedly asked was this: how do I pattern my life after Jesus while living in a culture and society addicted to and idolizing hurry, achievement and success?

It wasn’t an easy question to answer, but it began a journey that I still find myself on today. I started to gain clarity on many of the hard questions I was asking. 

Why am I trying to climb so high, so fast?

Because that’s what culture says to do. You’re not successful if you’re not climbing the corporate ladder—yes, even in a church.

But that’s not what Jesus says.

Jesus says, “blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth” (see Matthew 5:5). That doesn’t sound ambitious to me.

Is this the standard being held over me or by me?

Obviously, this was my own self-doing. Out of the great pain and turmoil of my own heart and soul, I began to hold myself to standard of perfection and efficiency that was impossible to keep up with.

Can I maintain this pace?

Again, an obvious no. I learned quickly that ministry doesn’t remember the splashy seasons but the faithful few who string together years and years of relational equity. Why? Because we’re in the business of people.

Can ministry ever stop?

Looking at Jesus’ life, the answer is yes.

Jesus was incredibly busy, but he was never over-stretched. Never hurried.

How do I know?

Because Jesus never burned out. He prioritized rest and recreation into his schedule. He partied, he ate good food, he reclined with friends, he got away by himself and he slept…HARD (see Mark 4:38).

Am I allowed to fail or let people down?

Jesus’ life tells me once again, yes, I can. Look at the story of Lazarus (see John 11). Jesus made Martha and Mary feel incredibly let down.

Sometimes, we’re not going to make decisions that make everyone happy. Jesus—after all—was rejected by his own people (see Mark 6).

It’s an impossible tightrope to walk when shepherding and leading a community of people. You’re better off if you lean into the practice of discerning disappointment.

What does taking a break say about me and my work ethic?

It says that I’m human. That I have limits. Limits I should love and embrace.

I can’t work 60 hours a week. I can’t sleep less than 7 hours a night. I can’t pull all-nighters, I can’t religiously self-promote on social media, I can’t lead people and love my wife well perfectly all the time. Rest reminds me that I am not God—and even God rested (see Genesis 1).

These answers helped me to see that to thrive in this life, it requires intentionality, it requires discipline and it requires practice.

How?

The question that naturally then arises—is how? How do we avoid burnout and pursue emotional, physical and spiritual health? I believe it all comes back to developing disciplines, routines and rhythms that allow us to Abide in the Vine that is Jesus. I called it a Rule for Rest. It’s better known as a Rule of Life. If you’re interested in taking a deeper dive into some of these practices, I’d encourage you to read about them or to watch this teaching.

…

Perhaps my reformation will disqualify me from becoming the Church’s next, “rising star” (as if that should be a goal in the first place), and I’m OK with that. Perhaps my platform will never grow to a level I’d selfishly desire for it to. Perhaps I’ll never get invited to speak at the A-list events for A-list groups or people. Perhaps this post or website will never be visited to the degree I wish it would. And if so, that’s OK.

But perhaps it will propel me to new heights. Perhaps my platform will grow rapidly, perhaps success will find its way into my life, perhaps I’ll be whisked around the world to speak at different functions and events for all sorts of people. And if so, that’s OK too.

My ambition is no longer to buy into the model of success that society has idolized for some time. My ambition is no longer to run harder and faster than those running beside me. Instead, my ambition is to follow the person and teachings of Jesus. To live out of the strengths and gifts he’s imparted to me to bring people to him. That’s it—full stop.

I believe that if I do that to the best of my ability, lives will be forever changed and impacted as they encounter a man who has, “walked with Jesus.”

So, my hope and prayer is that you’ll join me on this journey as I share insights from my time with Jesus. I hope to provide practical help, I hope to provide motivational material, but more than anything, I hope to guide, uplift and support you as you seek to grown and understand the person, I love the most…Jesus Christ. 

Because in the end, what is following Jesus if we don’t actually copy and paste the rhythms, habits and practices of Jesus into our lives? I want to teach and cast vision to anyone who will listen about why this is the entry way to becoming the leader, influencer and person you were always meant to be.

Will you join me?

Let us be a people of counter-cultural pursuit. 

Be encouraged.