I read the agenda for my upcoming retreat in my car while I was waiting on the high school band to let out from another long practice.
A lump formed in my throat as I passed over words like rest, renewal, unscheduled time to relax, no agenda and by the time I got to “a quiet time to care for your soul” I was undone.
I sat in my dirty minivan and I cried until I couldn’t breathe.
For months now, I’ve been feeling anxious and more overwhelmed than normal.
And that’s been followed by years of carrying a crushing burden. I rush from one meeting to the next, I answer emails all hours of day. I stay up late completing writing assignments and fill my days at our warehouse. I multi-task and I juggle motherhood, marriage and ministry and I drop a lot of balls.
Weary in well doing.
I’m not good at resting.
I stink at caring for my soul.
I’ve been able to function and plan and accomplish a lot over the last six years. But lately, when I’ve looked at my list of things I need to do, write, say, I want to sob.
Lately I’ve wondered if this is what burnout feels like.
I’ve experienced it in marriage.
And all the other places I tend to worry and try to figure out on my own.
Recently, I was reading different passages of Scripture that talked about Jesus removing himself for solitude, finding secluded places of prayer, and napping on a boat in a storm. It dawned on me that my refusal to stop, and rest and renew my soul wasn’t strength. It was weakness.
As if all the things–family, work, ministry only function because of me.
I closed my Bible and made a commitment to be more like Jesus. Because if He needed to retreat occasionally, I need it a lot more.
I feel a pull to rest. To drink deeply from the One who cares for my soul.
As you read these words, that’s what I’m doing. I’m at the SoulCare Retreat this week in Colorado with an intimate group of weary women–provided for free by some beautiful people who want to encourage and minister to non-profit leaders (thank you, kind people). I also might have texted my husband already and asked, Why do we live in Houston? Because I’m finding the mountains and snow a majestic place to find Jesus (and myself again).
It’s easy to lose ourselves in caring for others. Mothers and daughters, Fathers and sons, caretakers and good friends, parents, we can only give away what we have to give.
Schedule some time to care for yourself.
And let God renew your soul.