While listening
to Sunday’s message, I began to feel this way. I was feeling burnt
out and engaged in emotional reasoning, much like Elijah in his journey to
Horeb that we explored from 1 Kings 19.
I could tell a lot of stories in my
life that all end in the phrase, “But then the money didn’t work out for
that.” At least twice in the past three years I’ve started saving up
to buy a motorcycle, but then an appliance broke down that I couldn’t fix on my
own, or a medical visit produced extra bills I hadn’t expected. In my small
press publishing days I would reach deals to split the cost of a joint print
run or collaborate on a project, but then I came through on my half of the job
and my partner didn’t.
I was having another predicament
just like this one on Sunday, and trying not to meditate on how once again
the money wasn’t working out, when suddenly my wife had to take a phone call
and left the service. When she returned, it seemed she had landed an unexpected
new job that would pay enough to get us through the current scrape. Just like
that, without fanfare or foreshadowing.
Well, that broke up my whole train
of negative thought. And that feat, in itself, was better for me than the
financial windfall. In Psalm 34:9-10
it states, “Fear the Lord, you his holy
people, for those who fear him lack nothing. The lions may grow weak and
hungry, but those who seek the Lord lack no good thing.” As this verse
describes, God constantly shows us his faithfulness, rekindles our trust in Him
and reminds to get out of the solitude of our own thoughts, as He did with Elijah
in 1 Kings 19.
As we heard on Sunday,
symptoms of burnout include undervaluing both our own worth and our work,
overstating our own problems and abdicating our own dreams. And
there’s a four-point plan right in Elijah’s encounter with God after the storm
that gets us back on track: rest and refresh, let go of our own frustrations, focus
once again on God and not ourselves, and resume serving others.
We can get into emotional reasoning
during isolation and burnout, and our minds start making a case for whatever
maudlin self-delusion of the moment seems to feel true, rather
than what faith and a clear mind would show us actually is true.
And it doesn’t even take long to get into this rut –when I’ve studied this
passage before it’s always amuses me how Elijah gets this low so soon after
prevailing in the test of fire and routing the prophets of Baal. And shortly
after he laments to the Lord all in earnest that “I, even I only, am left; and they seek my life,” (1 Kings 19:14), the Lord responds, “I have reserved unto Me seven thousand in
Israel, all the knees which have not bowed unto Baal, and every mouth which
hath not kissed him,” (1 Kings 19:18).
Nothing like a little injection of
factual truth to disrupt Elijah's stewing and ruminating. And this week, I can
relate.
If you, too, find yourself in the same frame of mind as Elijah is in this portion of scripture-- because many of us will sooner or later -- I challenge you to get quiet for a minute. Instead of complaining, open your ears to hear what God is may be trying to tell you over your own noise.
Written by: Chad Halcom
Edited by: Tamara Sturdivant