are holidays Christian?

You might remember a post I wrote some time ago about Tim Chester's argument that holidays aren't biblical. Here's some further thoughts I wrote for The Briefing.

There's a certain amount of discomfort in Christian circles when it comes to annual leave and long service leave - or any kind of extended holiday, for that matter. The workaholics and type-A personalities amongst us (I'm putting my hand up now) can be even more uncomfortable about taking holidays. Perhaps they're right.

Aren't these the last days, when our task - to tell the world about Jesus - is a matter of desperate urgency? Shouldn't we be spending our time and money on gospel ministry, not on luxurious holidays-for-self? Haven't most people, across the world and until the fairly recent past, had to do without annual leave? Doesn't the Bible, as some argue, give us a pattern of six days' work and one day's rest, not overwork for most of the year and 'binge resting' during one's annual leave?1

Yes, yes, yes, and...well, a qualified yes. While I agree that laziness and overwork are thoroughly unbiblical, and 'binge resting' doesn't sound much better, my husband and I are convinced that extended leave and holidays can be very, very good things. So much so, that we've just celebrated Steve's long service leave with a seven week driving trip from Melbourne to Cairns. Not very luxurious, and perhaps not even particularly restful (picture 7000 kms in a car with four children), but a great break all the same!

Why do I think holidays and extended leave are biblical? Here are six reasons, ranging from anecdotal to theological.

1. If you're anything like us, after working hard for many months or years, extended rest is a very welcome gift of God.
   Yes, I know that most people throughout history and across the world have had to do without annual and long service leave. They are not necessities of life, any more than owning a car or living near a local park; but this doesn't make them bad things. A year ago, my husband was looking wilted after eleven years in an exhausting ministry job, and I was worn out after eleven years of raising young children. Long service leave has done us a world of good, and we thank God for his timely gift (1 Timothy 4:1-5).



2. Rest is biblical.
   Rest shows that I believe I'm not the God and Savior of the universe: God is, and I can trust him to run the world and continue his work while I rest. Rest shows that I live in God's grace, rather than needing to prove myself, meet others' expectations or give my life meaning through work. Rest shows that I acknowledge my humanness, my dependence and my need: that while God doesn't need rest, I'm a creature, and I do (Psalm 121:4; 127:2). Rest shows that I know life isn't about work, but about glorifying God in all I do, while I work and while I rest.2



3. Extended times of rest are biblical.
   It's sometimes argued that, while we're not under the Old Testament law, the wise biblical pattern expressed in Genesis 2:1-2 and the Sabbath commandment is six days of work and one day of rest. I agree. But there were also extended times of rest in the Old Testament calendar: regular annual celebrations in which workers downed tools and traveled to the temple, and (seldom observed) seventh year rests and forty-ninth year Jubilees, when the land and its people rested from their labor.3 I'm not arguing that we need to keep special days any more (Galatians 4:8-11; Colossians 2:16-17; Hebrews 10:1) but if the Sabbath gives us a wise principle for weekly rest, why not the Old Testament pattern of longer rests as well?4



4. Rest (including more extended periods of rest) helps us to avoid burnout and stay in for the long haul.
   I have to admit that I don't like the term 'self care'. But, in the end, rest is not about self care: it's about other-person care.5 If it's true, for example, that up to 50% of pastors leave pastoral ministry within the first five years, many due to burnout, then it's important to take steps to prevent this. My husband is no workaholic - he's much better than me at regular weekly rest - but after more than ten years' work as a ministry leader who spares others the extra load, he badly needed time to refuel and revive so he can keep serving for the next ten years.



5. Rest helps our relationships.
   During times of rest, marriages can be built and family life strengthened in a way that's not always possible during the busyness of life. My friend Heather encouraged me (and our experience on our recent holiday confirmed it):
   
   

   In the long run Steve & the kids (and eventually the grandkids) will always be your primary ministry so take some time out to ensure that those relationships develop a strength and solidity that will last through the teen years and into adulthood. Our LSL time was always a precious memory for our kids, and many of the experiences laid down during this period were foundational in holding together the open communication with our kids we enjoyed into the teen years and even now.

6. Rest helps us to pour ourselves out in God's service.
   There are times of life when we give out (hopefully most of life!) and times of life when we take in so we can serve, such as during theological study, conferences, study leave or holidays. During such times we regroup, reflect, renew ('the three Rs') as we prepare prayerfully for the future. Rest doesn't necessarily show a failure to 'pour ourselves out' for the gospel; used wisely, it fills us so that we can 'pour out' all the more, working hard in God's service to the end (Philippians 2:17 cf. Romans 12:11; 1 Corinthians 15:58; 2 Thessalonians 3:6-13).

Are holidays Christian? Well, it depends. If we spend too much on self-indulgent, luxurious vacations, then no (James 5:5). If we overwork all year to save up for a few weeks' leave, then no. If we live for leisure as if it were the goal of life, then no. But if we work hard in God's service and rest wisely and regularly, then yes, holidays can be a very good gift of God. Like all gifts of God received with thanksgiving and used for his glory, they become truly 'holy' days, not in the old sense of special religious days, but in the sense of a creation gift 'made holy' by the word and prayer (1 Timothy 4:1-5).

What do you think?


1. See Tim Chester, The Busy Christian's Guide to Busyness, pages 29-30. I must add that I agree with most of what he says here, and this is probably the only bit of this excellent book that I have any disagreement with!
2. See the book just mentioned and my series busyness and burnout.
3. See my post Sunday School: The Law and Sacrifices - Special Days for a more detailed overview.
4. The hole in my argument is that the Sabbath is established in Genesis 2:2-3 as a creation principle while the annual religious festivals aren't; but both are spoken of in the same breath in Colossians 2:16-17, and both show that regular breaks from work are neither a modern phenomenon nor an unbiblical one.
5. Thanks, Honoria Lau, for pointing this out to me.
6. See Grant Bickerton's article Stressors of pastors and leaders.

image is by andrewmalone from flickr

busyness, burnout and the grace of God (12) conclusion

Last week I finished the story of what happened when I got too busy. So where am I at, 9 months later?

My feelings have returned to the usual random collection of ups and downs. The lessons I learned stay with me: wisdom to say 'no', willingness to rest, and an awareness of my warning signs of burnout - things like anxiety, discouragement, lack of perspective, loss of motivation, and the inability to relax.

Am I still too busy? At times this year, I have been, with the usual consequences. It's a little disheartening, after all God has taught me, to still battle the same temptations: perfectionism, ambition, people-pleasing, my drive to fix things, my longing to do everything in one lifetime, and the superwoman syndrome.

I've made some helpful changes. I cut down my extra ministry commitments to 1 a term (I've learned some wisdom!) but discovered that 1 ministry commitment easily expands to fill as much time as 5 ministry commitments (my seminars and articles were very thorough! :) ). You see, the issue isn't really my circumstances - it's my heart.

But God has been at work in my heart. I'm less driven. Instead of grabbing every ministry opportunity, I hold my dreams more lightly, trusting God's timing. As you know, I'm planning to take some time off blogging next year to rest and reflect on what God wants from me - not something I would have done a year ago. God is good.

One final comment: please don't conclude from what I've written that busyness is a bad thing. It's good to be busy in God's service (Phil 2:17, 2 Thess 3:8-9). But when we're so busy that we burn out and can no longer serve, or fail to serve those close to us, or can't trust God and rest - then we've got a problem. And that problem is in our heart. That's what this series has been about: the idols of our heart that drive us to over-busyness, and the way that God's grace sets us free.

Let's work hard, pouring ourselves out in God's service; but when we've done all we can, let's rest, trusting God to work in people's lives.

images are from flik and Laurie Pink at flickr

what I'm reading: psalm for the busy

When I'm too busy, I become an insomniac. I lie awake at 3 o'clock in the morning, fretting and planning and finishing tasks in my head.

Here's (the first half of) a psalm which reminds me that all my frantic worry and busy labour can't achieve a thing without God. He is the one who "builds the house", not me.

Knowing that, I can sleep peacefully. I can rest.

Unless the LORD builds the house,
the builders labour in vain.
Unless the LORD watches over the city,
the guards stand watch in vain.
In vain you rise early
and stay up late, toiling for food to eat—
for he grants sleep to those he loves.
(Psalm 127:1-3)

busyness, burnout and the grace of God (11b) burnout

Here's the second half of my story of burnout.

December 2009. Summer holidays have begun, and I'm jogging. Pounding the beach, praying, tears streaming down my face. I never jog, but I run to escape the weight I'm carrying. I feel like a soldier training with a weighted pack - only in my pack is the despondency I can't shake, heavier than ever now the year's busyness has ended.

Early January, 2010. The summer holidays drag on, and I keep despondency at bay by taking the kids on outings and decluttering the house; but it's there, like a black pit, the moment I stop moving. I'm tired of this. I feel so weak, so useless. Why can't I do it all like other women? Why am I not strong enough?

January, 2010. I write in my journal, "I hate feeling like this. I won't deny it. I'd love to feel strong again - to feel joyous and energised and engaged. But it's when these things are taken away - the pride, the enthusiasm, the self-reliance - when all that is left is God and me, and I am weak and wrung out, like a floppy dishrag that's been used one too many times - that I realise my smallness and my need."

Late January, 2010. Steve gives me a day off, and I go to a local park and sit in my favourite cafe. All the discouragement and fear and self-doubt pour out in pages and pages of unreadable black scrawl. And then I pick up my Bible and read, "'My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.'" (2 Cor 12:9). I'm not strong, I'm weak: but God's treasure is in this jar of clay (2 Cor 4:7).

February, 2010. My feelings don't change until I talk to my friend, who has far more experience of depression than I do. She speaks 9 simple words: "You will feel excited about things again one day." Oddly, that's all I need to hear. It seems that just a whisper of hope is enough. I'm still uncertain of what I'm feeling, but from this point on, I'm no longer drowning.

March 2010. It's not easy to learn to learn to live without an idol; but I'm starting to realise that God's grace is here, waiting, on the other side. I write, "When depression is a reaction to loss, it has stages and an end. You have to let it run its course and have the courage to face the things it throws up at you."

God's grace meets me in the place where dreams die. His severe mercy has brought me to the end of myself, driving me to repentance and into the heart of his grace. Here, what I do doesn't give me meaning, only what he does for me.

image is by Jim Blob Blann from flickr

busyness, burnout and the grace of God (11a) burnout

I've told you about my 3 years of increasing busyness, as I took on every ministry opportunity I could. Today and tomorrow, I'd like to share with you what happened next.

Both roads - stress and burnout - lead ultimately to depression. The depression that comes from stress is due to the exhaustion of the adrenal system. On the other hand, the depression that comes from burnout is the loss of your vision, of your ideals.

8th July 2009. I'm leading a seminar at a women's conference. My friends advised me not to take this on after a crazily busy term, but I did it anyway. At the end of the conference I'm offered a fantastic ministry opportunity. I write in my journal, "It's the dream come true, the recognition I seek, the bigger stage. It's terrifying and exhilarating." I say 'yes', because how can I say 'no'?

9th July 2009. At 5.30 pm the day after the conference, the bottom drops out of my world. A 24 hour adrenalin high gives way to a deep low. This is normal. What isn't normal is the 2 months of despondency that follow. Every step - every smile - feels weighted. I write, "I'm longing for rest. I don't seem to be able to stop and get off this crazy ride."

Early August 2009. Instead of feeling excited about the fulfilment of my ministry ambitions, all I feel is dread. In my journal, I pray, "Thank you for the emptiness ... Thank you for reminding me that the idol I've set my heart on and schemed and worked so hard for is hollow and empty and can't deliver on its promises. ... You've stuffed me full and said, 'See!'"

Late August 2009. I go to a seminar on burnout, and the symptoms sound all too familiar: I'm drained, unenthused and distant from relationships. The solution, apparently, is to pull out of things and take some time to rest; so that's what I do. I cancel several ministry engagements - including the ministry opportunity I was so excited about - at some cost to my pride, and face a term with less things in it.

September 2009. It's odd how empty I feel. Relieved, yes, but empty. "Weariness. The blank nothingness that we call 'feeling flat'. Exhaustion. Disengagement." Without my busy plans for ministry, I'm living without a safety net. I've lost my dreams, my confidence, my sense of worth. Drained of enthusiasm, I'm unfamiliar to myself. If depression is a normal reaction to loss, then I'm living it.

October 2009. Earlier this year, I read the story of a middle-aged man who found that a red Ferrari didn't bring the happiness he longed for. Well, duh! But it lead to my own "duh!" moment: isn't ministry achievement just an idol painted in socially acceptable colours? In some ways, it's worse, because I'm taking something meant for God's glory and twisting it so it's about me.

November 2009. It's a busy month (I'm writing for Equip book club and Christmas is approaching) and, in the busyness, I manage to distance myself from the way I'm feeling - for a while.

Tomorrow: what happened next.

images are by LunaDiRimmel and -JosephB- from flickr

busyness, burnout and the grace of God (10) superwoman says 'yes'

April 2009. I've been saying 'yes' to every ministry opportunity: blogging, writing, speaking. I've just raced in the door after school-pickup, half-way through a term crammed to bursting. I watch myself with a kind of awed fascination. How many balls can I juggle before they fall to the ground? I'm about to be presented with another ministry opportunity I'll accept despite the advice of concerned friends: the last ball I get into the air before it all comes crashing down.

I get too busy when I ... try to be superwoman.

What I was thinking. "I can do this whole juggling act! I can keep these balls in the air! Let's see if I can fit one more thing in! Other women can manage it - why not me? If I say 'no' to these opportunities, who knows when they'll come again?"

What I'm learning.
I'm not that woman over there.
Like most women, I'm great at the comparison game! Some of my friends are energetic, extroverted women who raise children, work in challenging ministry jobs, and are far more involved in church and community than I will ever be. Other friends do all this and manage to be respected writers, theologians or conference speakers at the same time. They're my age, and they've achieved so much more than me! It's hard not to compare myself and feel worthless. I need to remember that...

God has made me just the way he wants me to be.
God knows my strengths and weaknesses (he made me!). He knows my energy levels and limitations (he gave them to me). He knows my temperament and the demands on my time (they were shaped by him). He's made me just the way he wants me to be, to do the work he's given me to do. He does nothing without a purpose, and his purposes are good. Rather than hanker after bigger and better things...

I'm learning to trust God and be content.
There are many reasons we can't do as much as we'd like. Some of us struggle with long-term illness. Some of us care for disabled children or sick family members. Some of us are in a demanding season of life, and aren't as physically or emotionally strong as we'd like to be (that's me). May God help us to trust him and to be content, for he's in control of our circumstances, and he is loving and wise.

Love defeats selfish ambition and envy.
What's really behind my longing to be more like my friends is envy and ambition. I see them achieving so much, and I want the recognition and respect that is theirs, and the energy and ease they seem to bring to life. It's time to examine my heart and uproot the bitter envy and self-centred ambition that have grown there. May God help me love my friends with a generous spirit, and to serve those around me even when it's unseen.

Superwoman is a myth.
Superwoman doesn't exist.* My friend isn't superwoman: she's just a sinner with her own struggles, and she has different gifts and has made different choices to me (despite appearances, no-one can do it all!). When I treat her like superwoman, I don't love and support her. I give glory to her rather than to God. I try so hard to be like her that I don't serve the people around me.

'No's give value to 'Yes's.
I'd like to believe I'm superwoman. I'd like to believe I can say 'yes' to every opportunity and do them all brilliantly. I tried to do just that for a while! But when I say 'yes' to everything, I do nothing well. I neglect my primary responsibilities. I'm constantly stressed and on edge. Eventually, things fall apart. Rather than say 'yes' to everything, I'd like to prayerfully and thoughtfully say 'yes' to a few things and do them well.

Life is not a performance and God isn't keeping score.
Grace. Grace. Grace. I can't shut up about it! And that's exactly how it should be. The reason I don't have to achieve everything, or perfect my performance, or despair when I drop a ball (which I do every day!), is the grace of God. I don't have to be superwoman. I don't have to perform. I'm an ordinary sinner justified by grace, not by what I do. When God looks at me, he doesn't see my failure and weakness: he sees me clothed in his grace.

* With thanks to Rachel for the ideas in this paragraph.

images are from garryknight, K. awyer, hansvandenberg30 and Dean Ayres at flickr; 3rd image is from stock.xchng

busyness, burnout and the grace of God (8) perfectionism

August 2008. Perfectionism: it's the sin I've never wanted to face up to, but I can no longer avoid it. When I'm working on something, it drives me to read every book and Bible reference, address every issue, and check everything a hundred times. It's the heart of my busyness and the hardest thing for me to shake.

I get too busy when ... I pursue perfection and completeness.

What I was thinking. "I have to get it right. What if they notice I make a mistake? I need to cover everything. I can't miss anything important. I have to work hard. I have to stay at the top of my game. I can't face not being perfect."

What I'm learning.
Perfection is an idol.
I've never forgotten the day I asked a mentor about a sin I had battled for years, consumed by guilt and failure. She pointed the spotlight on a different issue: "If Jesus was speaking to you, I think he'd say you need to repent of your perfectionism." We all have an idol that goes deep to the heart of us: perhaps for you it's pleasure or peace, but for me it's perfection. I've discovered that perfectionism and workaholism go hand-in-hand, because perfection is an ever-receding goal. It takes everything you pour into it and still asks for more.

Perfectionism is pride.
The same mentor pointed out to me recently that perfectionism is arrogance. Who am I to think I can get things exactly right? Why do I imagine the world will fall apart if I don't? If I miss something when I teach others, will those who listen fail to grow? Of course not! Perfection isn't really about helping others: it's about making me feel better about myself. It's about avoiding criticism. It's about that wonderful (and fleeting) feeling of completeness when I get something right. God alone is perfect: not me.

Perfection is already mine.
God has given me the perfection of his Son. Because Jesus bore all my sins and failures on the cross, I am perfect in God's sight, pure and free from blame. I find it so hard to wrap my head around this! But it's true: my sins are forgiven, and the good things I do (so marred by sin!) are washed clean and presented to God without flaw. When I pursue perfection, I deny that Jesus has already won it for me. I act as if his righteousness isn't enough. I try to prove myself to the One who has clothed me in the perfection of his Son. Over and over, I need to preach the gospel to myself again.

The 20/80 rule.
Here's a great little observation from Tim Chester: we spend 20% of our effort on 80% of what we do, and 80% of our effort on 20% of what we do. I have to admit I'm still pursuing the 20%! But I remember the 20/80 rule when I obsess about getting something exactly right.

Plan before I start, and stop when it's still imperfect.
Once I'm in the middle of a project (or a decision, or a responsibility) it gets its teeth into me and it's hard to stop. There's always more I could do! I need to plan carefully before I start: what I want to do, how long I want to spend on it, how much time to give to each part. I'm realising that, at whatever point I stop, I could always have done some things better. I'm still learning (slowly), but each time I start something new, I work a little smarter.

The answer to perfectionism is grace.
During the last few years, I've discovered just one cure for perfectionism: the grace of God. As I begin to see that nothing I do can change his grace - that it will never let me go, however often and terribly I fail - perfectionism loosens its grip on me. I know I'll battle perfectionism until the day I die, but God is growing me deeper into his grace. My sin is greater than I will ever know, but God's grace is greater still.

images are by Nomad Photography, rachel_titiriga, tabogarcia and Jules.K at flickr

what I'm reading: busyness and making things better from The Busy Christian's Guide to Busyness

Are you a sympathetic person who sees someone in trouble and has to help? A problem-solver who sees something wrong and has to fix it? A visionary who sees things need to change and has to do something about it?

Many of us think if we just work hard enough, we can do everything that needs to be done. It's one of the quickest routes to over-busyness and burnout. Tim Chester says,

One of the lies that drives our busyness is the belief that we can do everything and solve every problem - it is just a matter of squeezing it all in. The reality is that we are finite. Only God is infinite...

People who get work out of perspective do so because deep down they believe that 'God either cannot or will not provide' and that therefore they themselves must do so...

'I'm busy because people need me.' It's another version of 'I'm busy because otherwise things get out of control.' If I'm not active then things will get out of control in someone else's life...We shouldn't over-estimate ourselves - we are not indispensable. We like to think we can solve every problem, but we cannot...

Don't get me wrong. We have a responsibility to serve God and love other people... We are to be poured out in service. We are to give until there is nothing left to give. But then we stop. We cannot and should not do more than we can. God doesn't expect it of us. We are not saviours. He alone is the Saviour...

We trust God for our concerns and obey God in our responsibility. Don't take responsibility for those things you should leave to God. You'll end up playing god. And God is a much better God than you are! You will soon burn yourself out...Many years ago I said, "Lord, I'll do the work and you do the worrying."

This quote is from chapter 9 of Tim Chester's The Busy Christian's Guide to Busyness.

image is from Sarah G... at flickr

busyness, burnout and the grace of God (7) needs

2008: a year of activism. I dream of changing things. I dream of talks, articles, books. I travel to see what's happening in women's ministry. I meet women with the kind of impact I dream of having. One day, I sit in an auditorium and realise that, of these 3000 women, perhaps 5 have heard my name. I rejoice in my smallness, and in the hugeness of the God who changes lives.

I get too busy when ... I think I'm the one who has to solve problems, change things and meet people's needs.

What I was thinking. "People need encouragement. They need teaching. They need support. If I just work hard enough, I can do what needs to be done. If I don't, who will? Things will get out of control without me. Everything depends on me."

What I'm learning.
I'm not the one who meets needs - God is.
I'm called to bear others' burdens (Gal 6:2). I'm called to serve those around me (Gal 5:13). I'm called to share the good news of Jesus (1 Pet 3:15-16). But ultimately, I'm not the need-meeter: God is. If I say "yes" to every need because I think it all depends on me or because I think no-one else will, I'll be pulled in a thousand different directions, doing nothing well. Instead, may I prayerfully prioritise the things I say "yes" to, and trust God with the rest. People don't need me - they need God.

God is the Saviour, not me.
How arrogant it is to think that I am the one who changes people! Yes, I have a responsibility to love others and speak God's truth. But if I look around my church and community and think things need to change and I'm the one to change them, I'm in danger of putting myself at the centre. I'm not the Saviour: God is. I'm not the one who changes hearts: God is. I'm not indispensable: God is. It's good to do what I can, then stop and rest, trusting God to do his work in people's lives. My responsibility is to serve, not to save.

God is the Ruler, not me.
Even as I say this, I find it a little hard to believe. Doesn't God see how many problems need solving? Why does he let things get so out of hand? Perhaps if I step in, things will get better. It's that kind of thinking which gets me into trouble. Yes, I need to love and serve. Yes, God's sovereignty doesn't let me off the hook. But if I'm running around frantically trying to fix everything, then I've forgotten that God is the wise Ruler of his world. I'm finite; he is infinite. He is big and good enough to provide. I can rest in his sovereign love.

God is working, even when I can't see it.
During the last few years I've seen how God is working in places and people I've never heard of. It's easy to stand arrogantly over people thinking I'm the one who has something to offer. But there are many faithful women teaching and encouraging their sisters in Christ. If I can help them to do this, what a privilege! But it doesn't depend on me. We're a team, each with our own roles and responsibilities, and God is working even when I can't see it.

My responsibility, God's responsibility, their responsibility.
It's natural for me to carry others' burdens. I worry when women are struggling. I get frustrated when they don't grow the way I want them to. I'm weighed down by their grief. These are all signs that I'm bearing burdens that don't belong to me. A wise friend suggested that I write down 3 things - my responsibility, God's responsibility, and others' responsibility - then do the first and pray about the rest. When I'm burdened by others' needs, what a relief it is to bring their burdens to God in prayer!

In writing this, I've been encouraged and challenged by chapter 9 of Tim Chester's The Busy Christian's Guide to Busyness.

First and last images are by Bjorn1101 and Crystl from flickr; others are from stock.xchng.

busyness, burnout and the grace of God (5) pleasing people

February 2008. It soon becomes clear that blogging is about the numbers. Every day I check my stats to make sure people are reading, agonise over a negative comment, rejoice over a good one. I want people to read, and I don't want to disappoint anyone: not the people I write for, nor the friends with high hopes for me. Over and over during the next couple of years, I will write in my journal, "I feel trapped": trapped by the expectations of others.

I get too busy when ... I try to please people and live up to their expectations.

What I'm thinking. "I can't bear people not to think well of me! I can't let them down! I can't disappoint people! I have to work hard to earn their respect!"

What I'm learning.
To fear God, not people.
Like most people-pleasers, I started young. I didn't want to disappoint parents who hoped so much for me, and I didn't want to risk the displeasure of teachers by doing the wrong thing. I was one of those kids whose good school reports and respectful demeanor said a lot about my fears. It's no different now. I fear failure; I fear disappointing people; I fear peoples' criticism. In other words, people are bigger in my mind than God. I need a bigger view of God. Slowly but surely, God is changing me so that I fear God more than I fear people.*

To please God, not people.
When I'm tempted to seek praise, or when I'm disturbed by criticism, here's what I tell myself: "It doesn't matter what people think of me". Such a simple statement! But it reminds me that nothing really hangs on people's opinion of me. Instead, I want to seek God's good opinion, and he's pleased not by popularity, but by faithfulness. I'll never be able to do enough to get the praise I seek! But God isn't impressed by my busy achievements, but by love.

All I do, I do for an audience of One.
I once read a book which asked, "Who's in your grandstand?". I know who's in mine! Mentors, parents, friends, editors, readers, those I seek to encourage: there are few sweeter things than receiving their praise, and I work hard to earn it! But there should only be one person in my grandstand: God. His applause alone matters, and he asks no more of me than he enables me to do. I can imagine few joys greater than hearing him say to me one day, "Well done, good and faithful servant" (Matt 25:23).

I'm justified by God not others.
Who do I try to prove myself to? There's me: my own expectations are higher than anyone else's! There's the people who love me: I'd hate to let them down! There's my readers: I used to think they expected a post every day! There's the impartial observers: they're a bit quicker with their criticism, so I work hard to avoid it. I forget that I'm already justified by God, righteous in his eyes because Jesus died for me, and I don't need to prove myself to me or anyone else.

I can make choices which feed the right attitudes.
One of the most significant steps I took, many months ago, was to stop checking my stats more than once a week. I also realised that comparing the popularity of my blog with others only fed my obsession (well, duh!). In the grace of God, I've made many small decisions so I'm not constantly feeding my hunger for people's praise. Perhaps it's a boss's demands, or your parents' hopes, or a mentor's expectations that drives you into over-busyness: ask yourself how you can stop feeding your hunger for their approval.

It's okay to say "no"
Saying "no" can be hard! For me, it's the struggle not to let opportunities slip (and to trust God's timing). For my friend, it's the struggle not to care what others think. We say "yes" when we should say "no" because we don't want to lose face. There have been times when I've had to eat humble pie and pull out of things I've said "yes" to, which is an even harder kind of wisdom. Busyness is not next to godliness, even when everyone at your church is telling you so! You don't stand and fall by their good opinion, but by God's good opinion: and Jesus won that on the cross.

Many of these insights are from chapter 8 of Tim Chesters The Busy Christian's Guide to Busyness; the quote is from p. 106.
* The link between fear and people-pleasing became clear to me as I read Ed Welch's When People are Big and God is Small.

images are from Multiple fragments of tissue, chrissuderman and Samanta Decker at flickr; image of graph is from sitemeter

busyness, stress and the grace of God (2) seasons

It's September 2007. I'm sitting in the living room with two of my dearest friends. Our youngest children are no longer babies, and our minds turn to the future, to the world beyond our front doors. What do Christian women need? How can we encourage them? Together we dream about the next season of life. The possibilities run around my head until one morning I wake up with a newly-minted idea: start a blog! After that, who knows? Writing? Seminars? Conferences? They're only a dream away.

I get too busy when I ... forget which season I'm in.

What I was thinking. "I'm starting on a new season of life. I'll have more time now. It's time for dreaming! What exciting new ministries can I get involved in?"

What I'm learning.
1. You can't hurry seasons.
Women's lives, even more than men's, are divided into seasons. Each season takes as long as it needs to, and you can't move onto the next until it's over. Older women are always telling me how short this season with young children will be, and that there will be more time for new ministries in the next. I'll take that on faith: it doesn't feel that way to me! But I'm learning to be patient and content with this season; to rejoice in its unique possibilities and responsibilities; and to trust God with the slowness of the next season's coming. Why would I hurry this precious season?

2. It's easy to underestimate a new season's demands.
Looking back, there was a remarkable lack of wisdom in my timing. Four children, with the youngest barely a year old, is hardly the time for grand plans about lots of new ministries! (Yes, I am glad I started this blog, but what came next is another story ...). It's the same when your youngest child starts school: many women throw themselves into work and ministry, without realising how demanding the next season of life will be. Which leads to my next point ...

3. At the start of a new season, take time to recover and reflect. Here's some excellent advice I've heard: when your youngest child goes to school, have a quiet year before filling in your "extra" time. Until you've lived in the next season, you won't know how demanding it is. And I'll need time to recover after 13 exhausting years at home with young children. Take time to rest and reflect, and step cautiously into new ministries, knowing they'll expand to fill more time than you expect. (This isn't an excuse for laziness or selfishness, but a reminder for those of us who eagerly say "yes" to everything to take care.)

4. Leave room for relationships - and the unexpected.
Women's lives tend to be focused on relationships. That's good and appropriate, but it means our plans will be frequently interrupted. I have a friend in her 50s who works in ministry. Every year of the last 3 years, she's had to cut down her working hours because of unexpected demands: a cancer scare, a dying father-in-law, a sick son in another state, a new grandchild with serious health issues, her husband's change of job. Leave room for relationships. Leave room for the unexpected. Keep your diary lazy. You can always fill your spare time later!

5. Put each season's first things first.
During the season I'm in, my first responsibility after helping my husband is to teach and train our kids; and after that, to serve in our church and reach out to our community. When I take on lots of public ministries, it undermines health and rest, and drains my energy for those God gives me to love. It's okay for outside ministry to put pressure on our family from time to time - that's part of the cost of serving Jesus - but when I'm constantly neglecting my relationships it's time to repent, cut down, and ask God to help me serve him faithfully in the season I'm in. (If you want to think more about this, see my series balancing homemaking and ministry.)

6. God never changes, even when seasons do.
The changeableness of seasons can make us feel unsettled and uncertain. But our security doesn't come from a settled life: it comes from God. Through seasons of grief, seasons of exhaustion, and even seasons which don't seem to end, our God is always faithful, and his sovereign grace and loving kindness don't change.

What do you think? How does being aware of our season of life help us to serve God faithfully, without becoming too busy and neglecting the important things? Are you caring for the people you need to care for in the season you're in?

images are from visuallegedanken, joiseyshowaa and ToniVC at http://www.flickr.com/; image of door with windows is from http://www.sxc.hu/

what I'm reading: the heart of busyness from Tim Chester's The Busy Christian's Guide to Busyness

The book which has done most to help me unpack my busyness - why I get too busy, how to tell if I'm too busy, and what to do about my busyness - is Tim Chester's The Busy Christian's Guide to Busyness (reviewed by Nicole here).

The most helpful thing Tim Chester does in his book is to talk about the why of busyness: the lies we believe which make us overly busy. Here's what he says about busyness, how to tell if it's a problem, and how over-busyness reveals our hearts.

There's nothing wrong with being busy. The truth is most of us like being busy ... Busyness itself is not a problem. In anybody's life there will be periods of intense activity. The problem comes when we are persistently over-busy. If you life doesn't reflect the biblical pattern of work and rest then something is wrong ...

If God doesn't expect me to do more than I can, the key question to ask ourselves is: Why am I trying to do more than I can? ...

I want to suggest that much, perhaps most, of the pressure to be busy comes from within. ... At the heart of our busyness is our heart. We're busy because we're working hard to meet the desires of our hearts. ...

Think about what that might mean for your busyness. Do you ever think your busyness is inevitable, unavoidable or appropriate? I want to suggest that it may be none of those things. It may be that your heart is deceiving you. ...

The test you need to apply to your busyness is this: if it produces bad fruit then it reflects the evil desires of your heart. ... If your health, marriage, friendships, Christian service or relationship with God is suffering because of your busyness then you need to address the idols in your life. You need to identify the desires of your heart that make you try to do more than God expects of you.

That's exactly what I want to do during the first posts of my new series on busyness: to talk about the lies behind my, and perhaps your, busyness. What are the idols of your heart which drive you to do more than God expects from you?

Excerpts are from Tim Chester's The Busy Christian's Guide to Busyness pp. 35, 78-84.

what I've been reading: burn out vs rust out from Peter Brain's Going the Distance

Robert Murray McCheyne, at the end of his short life, said,

God gave me the gospel and a horse. I've killed the horse, so I can no longer preach the gospel. (He was speaking of his body.)

Christmas Evans says,

I'd rather burn out than rust out in the service of the Lord.

James Berkeley responds,

I admire the bravado. It sounds dedicated, bold, and stirring. However, when I view the burnt-outs and the almost burnt-outs who lie by the ecclesiastical road, the glory fails to reach me. I see pain and waste and unfinished service. Is there not a third alternative to either burning out or rusting out? In Acts 20:24, Paul stated, "I consider my life worth nothing to me, if only I may finish the race and complete the task the Lord Jesus has given me". Herein lies the model I choose to follow. I want neither to burn out nor rust out. I want to finish the race.

These quotes are from Peter Brain's Going the Distance: How to Stay Fit for a Lifetime of Ministry pp. 10, 20; emphases mine.

busyness, burnout and the grace of God (1) introduction

"Funny, perceptive and inspirational, this is the adventure of a lifetime, proving that the modern woman can have it all: a high-flying career, a wonderful family life and New York". (from a book blurb quoted in supermum)

She's living the dream. She has her career. She has her family. She has (wait for it ...) New York. Well, you and I might not have New York, but let's add something else in there: ministry. Career, family, ministry - oh, and leisure. It sounds like a modern Christian woman's ideal life, doesn't it?

Except somewhere along the way, this view of life just isn't possible. Something has to give. It might be ministry, it might be family, it might be career, it might be leisure; but you can't pour 4 time-intensive roles into a single life and expect no cracks to show.

I haven't attempted the career bit since having kids (for most mothers this starts when their kids are all at school, although not for me if I can help it - more about that another day!) but I've certainly attempted far too much ministry outside the home while raising 4 young children. I know how that feels and what it costs.

I find busyness very tempting. It's hard just to keep on top of the tasks which are part of daily life - cleaning, cooking, washing clothes, buying groceries, getting the kids to school on time - but when I'm not doing a lot more than this, I feel like a failure. Other women are achieving so much more! So I add another activity to the tottering pile.

Over-busyness is sometimes unavoidable - for example, for single mums, or mums with very young children - but it's usually driven by our choices and desires.

• We want to prove ourselves, to gain others' respect, to meet their expectations.
• We want to make sure that our life has some significance.
• We want to achieve as much as that woman over there.
• We're frightened of wasting the precious years.
• We don't know how to say "no", or how to disappoint people.
• We only feel significant when we're busy, working hard, and getting things done.
• The busyness creeps up without us noticing, and we don't know how to stop.

Two years ago I found myself at the start of a new season. My youngest child was fresh out of babyhood, and we weren't planning to have any more. I found myself with a few spare moments, a heart full of dreams, and what felt like hundreds of beckoning opportunities.

During the coming weeks I'd like to tell you the story of what happened next, and what I learned about busyness, stress and the grace of God.

image is by hansvandenberg at flickr

burnout (3) it's not over yet, baby!

This post has been a long time in coming. I've wanted to write about this for so long, but the words haven't been coming together!

How do you write about something when you're in the middle of it, and your emotions are raw and your thoughts confused? How do you write about something when you're not sure how to write anything helpful? How do you write about something when you think it should be over by now?

The last 6 months haven't been easy. The hole called "burnout", which I dug myself into last year - or rather, which I dug gradually over several years, and fell into all of a sudden on the 19th of July last year (see, I remember the date!) - takes a long time to climb out of.

I thought 2 months of low-grade depression would do it: yes, I've payed my dues, now it's time to move on. But I continued to feel pretty depressed during much of the summer holidays. I'm still experiencing the repercussions in my emotions and energy levels. I'm still a little unclear about things, unsure of myself, uncertain of the future.

Things are much better now (so please don't worry about me!). I'm feeling happier and less anxious. I'm gradually finding a workable way to manage life and ministry. I'm trying to build on a firmer foundation: less pride and selfish ambition, more love and service of the people God has given me.

Like all of God's severe mercies, this has taught me a huge amount: about myself, about God, about obedience and ministry and service. I've learned about the disaster we can prepare for ourselves when we passionately serve our idols, about my frailty and humanness, about the gradual stages of healing. Most of all, I've learned about God's grace: the grace that awaits us on the other side of sin, regret, failure and weakness.

I'd like to share what I've learned with you. So as I have time and feel able, I'll write more about this in the weeks ahead.

image is from rachel_titiriga at flickr

burnout (2) recovery

You'll remember that I found myself on the edge of burnout half way through last term. I stopped the relentless pace, but my discouragement and anxiety persisted for a second endless month.

Here's what I learned: it takes time to recover from burnout.

You don't go suddenly from overwhelmed and exhausted to peaceful and rested. It takes time for your body to heal. It takes time for your emotions to recover. It takes time to (re)learn how to rest.

During this time, depression and exhaustion are common companions - and, according to Arch Hart, healing companions. I've never thought of depression or exhaustion as something to be celebrated! Mostly, they're not. But sometimes (like that dreary 2 days at the beginning of a holiday) they can be the first sign of recovery.

So I accept the persistent despondency (no, I don't, I actually hate every moment of it, furiously navel-gaze about why it's happening, and struggle with self-pity, grumpiness and despair). I pray and wait for God to restore my joy. I welcome the moment, (4 weeks later!) when my mood starts to lift, my muscles begin to untense, and my mind relaxes.

That's where I'm at now. I'm still a little shell-shocked and bewildered. I'm rethinking my priorities. I'm spending precious half hours lying on the couch and watching the wind bend the branches of the gums (my surprised daughter asks, "Why are you lounging on the couch, Mummy?!" "Lounging" - that's what!). I've rediscovered the joy of short, simple quiet times reading the Bible and praying without the burden of a seminar to prepare, and the pleasure of unpressured time with my kids (ah, the blessing of timely school holidays!).

So what have I learned? (Ah, yes, the moment when it's all distilled into a life lesson.) You know, I'm not sure I want to give you 4 points to go away with, as if life is that simple. It's easy to wait until something is over, and then to produce pious platitudes, forgetting how hard and confusing it was at the time. And (as you've noticed!) I didn't feel able to write about it when I was in the middle of it. The fact that I can write about it now shows that my mind is springing back to its normal shape.

Here's some random reflections. God is ever, ever faithful. Depression - however mild and ill-deserving of the name! - is horrible and bewildering and overwhelming, and I can't even begin to imagine how awful severe depression is. It's right for me to fight for joy in God, but it's God who restores joy in his own timing and in his own way.

Rest is God's good gift, and I neglect it, and try to do everything, at my peril (newsflash: I am not God). I'm newly grateful to God for my family and holidays and my couch. I'm not about to stop serving God with all my energy (Col 1:28-29) but my energy levels are less than I would like them to be.

My final conclusion? I've got some hard decisions to make about the many ministries in my life. Please pray for me as I make them.

images are from whatmegsaid and Tomas Rotger at flickr

burnout (1) descent

I've been feeling discouraged and anxious for about 8 weeks now, ever since the plunge into exhaustion and despondency after my last seminar (remember that?).

My mood is finally lifting, as I remember how to relax and rest again, thanks in part to Arch Hart's Adrenalin and Stress - thanks Carmelina for the recommendation! - but also and completely thanks to God's mercy and perfect timing.

I had a relatively quiet term 1, but a crazily busy term 2 (which I thoroughly enjoyed, by the way, with nary a moment of anxiety or despondency. An answer to prayer? Yes, but perhaps also the protective high of adrenalin). I could have recovered, but I'd booked the year so thoroughly that there was no time to take a break.

Like a shopaholic in a clothes store (believe me, I know what that feels like!) I find it hard to say "no" when I'm offered a ministry opportunity. It feels exactly the same, with the same internal dialogue. "Yes, I'll have that, please! I know I shouldn't, but I can't resist! This opportunity won't come knocking another time!"

So I was planning to head into yet more writing and teaching during terms 3 and 4, plus some extra caring for people to make up for what I couldn't do during term 2; but my energy and enthusiasm packed up and I could barely care for our family, let alone add extra responsibilities.

Apparently (says Arch Hart) this is the normal result of trying to run on adrenalin for too long. Eventually it runs out, and you can't muster the energy to face anything. It makes sense, but it feels pretty awful.

Half way through term 3, after weeks of feeling like there was a lead weight in my guts and a panicky, jittery band around my middle, I went to a seminar on burnout (I was still racing from engagement to engagement). In God's perfect timing it was just what I needed to hear. Symptoms of burnout? Here they are:

• a sense of being drained emotionally
• a reduced sense of personal accomplishment
• a sense of depersonalisation, of distance and disconnection in relationships

All disquieteningly familiar.

I asked Janet Reeves,* who was leading the seminar, what to do if you've already agreed to too many engagements during the coming months and can't pull out.

Her answer? "Eat humble pie. Tell the organisers you're nearly ill with stress, and ask if you can cancel the engagements."

My (internal) response? "Yeah, right, like I'd ever do that." I meet my responsibilities. I hate disappointing people. I'm the conscientious one. Without that, I'm not sure who I am.

One week later, and I'm shooting off 2 emails to explain the situation and to ask if I can possibly cancel a talk and seminar. Predictably, the organisers kindly and graciously agree to put off the engagements for another time. A weight lifts from my shoulders.

My despondency doesn't lift.

Tune in next week for the next exciting installment in the story of me. ;)

*Janet Reeves lectures in pastoral care at BCV. She drew much of her material on burnout from BCV lecture notes and Peter Brain's Going the Distance.

images are by rachel_titiriga at flickr