Remedy for Burnout: Remember To Rest

My nerves crackled with anxiety, and I blinked away thoughts of cutting loose and running. The toilet paper wasn’t normally stored in the refrigerator. As my brain power flickered like a dying light bulb, I questioned my sanity. Had I really put unwashed clothes in the dryer and mistaken Lysol Spray for deodorant this morning?

To my side, a daughter murmured to her homegrown doll, Francesca, as she swept the doll’s mitten-shaped hand across a Braille alphabet card. “No silly. That’s not the answer. It’s G. G says Qu in Queen. Let’s try it again.”

Phonic’s therapy. Today.

While still processing the toilet paper in the fridge, my other daughter, walking like Frankenstein, entered the kitchen dressed in cardboard. Have you ever bent to pull toilet paper from the fridge while having a conversation with Disney’s Cogsworth the Clock, alias Asian nine-year-old with a perfectly face-painted French mustache?

Art class. Quirky. But cute.

I eased myself into a chair and peered toward the peaceful sight of the Methodist church building next door. A gentle wind swayed the bushes of the side-yard, and my gaze scaled the white steeple.

Anchor me,Lord!

But an interruption much like television static blurred past the window. My oldest son, wearing Man from Snowy River hat, breezed down the driveway on horseback. A lariat poised in his right hand spun in the air. I jumped to my feet and scrambled to the living room. As I reached the large, front windows, the horse came to an abrupt stop. My son yanked on his rope, and a glimpse of his target stumbled from behind the shoulder point of the Welsh pony. Arms bound, a younger brother yelled to Kingdom come.

Impressive equestrian skills. People skills? Not so much.

A third brother slammed the back door, ran toward me speaking with characteristically disjointed syllables and signing with frantic hands.

Tattling 101. If this son could tattle, he could talk.

Recess ended. I called each of my darlings to attend court. I perched on the sofa and had them form a lineup which included Francesca, Cogsworth, and Man from Snowy River. Lunch over and instruction beginning again at 2PM, I relegated each of them to a different room in the house for one hour of peace and quiet.

Instead of caving, I stretched on the sofa and prayed, remembering back several years to when the children were smaller. And, God reminded me about the importance of rest.

Love your neighbor as yourself… Loving yourself isn’t self promotion, is it? It’s necessary.

I had started well. Once the kids had outgrown naptime, I had still required them to sit calmly on their beds for an hour every afternoon. They could read, draw, play quietly with Legos… When had I allowed this important time of day to slip into obscurity?

I could hear parenting experts telling me to keep my children busy, busy. Then they're less trouble, right? But, creativity and soul nurturing are oftentimes born of quiet moments for kids and moms alike.

God whispered to me the need for purposeful rest. This type of rest would keep me on track with the practical elements in my life. I could handle the work-a-day existence of being mom and teacher if I believed I was doing it all for a higher purpose. I’d forgotten. Like the Children of Israel wandering the desert, I’d let mundane days rob me of my calling, and I’d allowed God’s splendor to dim.

Growing weary in doing well… This Biblical phrase identified and cemented the issue. In modern vernacular, I was experiencing burnout. How does one put the brakes on burnout when you already feel chewed and swallowed?

Reaching for my Bible, I read Joshua 4:3, 6, & 7. God instructed Joshua to lay memory stones. The purpose? To remind future generations of His power, presence, and provision. The stones were taken from the Jordan River, and they were lifted from the riverbed in the places where the priest's feet stood firm before the Ark of the Covenant. This Ark represented God’s presence. Why was this significant? Our decision to parent and homeschool, and the ability to actually do it, had been firmly planted in God's power, presence, and provision from the beginning. So why was I lacking?

Rest—so easy and so hard.

I began to understand. Strong, family memories could wield weapons to slay burnout. New memories were tactical procedures ensuring my future. But what should comprise my memory stones? I couldn’t imagine myself gathering rocks. Then it hit me. Journals, scrapbooks, photo albums, lapbooks—anything that records our progress and demonstrates God’s graciousness to us is a memory stone.

Afternoon quiet time was reinstituted at my house that day. I gathered fluffy pillows, lit a scented candle, snuggled deeper into the folds of the couch, and reviewed my purpose along with my children’s treasured moments.

I renewed my mind, setting it on the finished work of Jesus Christ—the Believer’s ultimate rest—and basked in the comforting help of the Holy Spirit.

Refreshed…

 “[What would have become of me] had I not believed that I would see the Lord’s goodness in the land of the living?” Psalm 27:13 (Amplified)

What about you? I’d love to hear what sustains you. What restful thing do you do to regain focus?

                       

*The preceding story was created as I journeyed through burnout and explored a remedy for it. Rest is the letter R in Remedy. Stay tuned for future blogs concerning letters E-M-E-D-Y.

           

2 Thessalonians 1:3

Joshua 4:3-24

Psalm 16: 9

Isaiah 63:14

Listen for His Whispers...