The perfect unity of love and truth in Matthew Eighteen

We live in times where truth is relative; it is in the possession of its owner. Even passages of scripture that are wholly devoted to Jesus’ words are heavily disputed. Here, today, is just another contribution, but it is brought to you motivated by love, which, of itself, is deeply confused as a principle from one person to another. After all, you may say, what is love?

Let me explain to you the convergence of love in truth and truth in love:

I believe everything that Jesus said in Matthew 18 was underpinned by the dualism of love and truth. Not a lovey-dovey kind of love. Not partial truth. Not a wishy-washy kind of love. Not truth that’s ‘relative’. But a love that can only be understood when we understand God’s love, and if we don’t transact with God’s love, because of some kind of refusal or intentional unknowing or any other kind of resistance, we won’t get this kind of love.

God’s love cannot be understood until we are ready to acknowledge that we could be wrong. Only when we are humble enough to accept that we could be wrong are we ready to rally with the concept of the convergence of truth and love.

Love truly cannot be understood unless we see truth implicit in it.

And here is where it really means something. In Matthew 18, we could very much pass over the concept of love if it weren’t for the polarising role of truth in each of these passages. Matthew 18, of course, is one of Jesus’ five discourses in that gospel. Jesus uses the whole chapter to teach. He teaches about true greatness, God’s pursuit of those who are lost, how we are to love those we’re in conflict with back into the fold with the truth, and the generosity of grace and mercy in that most ‘irrational’ love of all, forgiveness.

Jesus teaches a tough love in this chapter—a love that cannot be separated from the truth. He exposes the idea that truth cannot be separated from love. Equally poignant is, love cannot be separated from the truth.

At a time when the disciples wanted to big note themselves—being so insecure at to need Jesus to affirm how great they were—Jesus loves them so much as to shame them through a rebuke intended to cause them to repent. Jesus loves them with the truth. But Jesus didn’t leave it there; he capitalises on an opportunity, to show love’s depth of commitment to truth by revealing the poignancy of love in justice. Jesus shows that love is perfected in the righteous anger of God’s indignation when the innocent are harmed. See the depth of God’s love!

Joining the first two concepts (true greatness [vv. 1-5] and temptations to sin [vv. 6-9]) together in the parable of the lost sheep, I’m sure that Jesus is teaching that God hates it when so-called godly people harm those who are on their way to God and halt their progress through one or more of a million forms of legalism and abuse. And even when one person is cast away, it’s as if that person is God’s own son or daughter—because they are God’s creation!

Then we come to the matter of ‘reproving another who sins’ — Matthew 18:15-20.

These are the verses that are so often abused when it comes to ‘church discipline’. This is about loving people with the truth; that love is embedded in relationships to the standard of truth. We love another person enough that we would go to them and speak the truth. We show our love for them if they ignore us by making a second attempt with another person or three in tow. And if they still refuse to listen, we love them so much that we expose the truth to everyone that they have no choice but to account for it. Love compels confrontation so matters can be resolved. Justice must be done. Love seeks restoration and it abides perfectly in the truth, because restoration cannot occur without justice being done, which is truth. Little wonder then that where truth cannot be realised, love cannot be fulfilled.

Wherever there is even an iota of injustice,
truth is unrealised, and love stands aggrieved.

The remaining larger portion of chapter 18 of Matthew is devoted to forgiveness, which brings together the concepts of love, truth and justice, amid the gratuity of mercy.

There is no greater love, the Bible tells us, than the love of a person who lays down their own life for a friend. (John 15:13; 1 John 3:16) And this love is epitomised in forgiveness, which is the demonstrative love of God in Christ, which we are able to partake in through our acceptance of Christ, and practically so, as we forgive others.

Forgiveness, again, is very much about the meld of truth and love. The truth is propounded in the fact that we have been forgiven. And that forgiveness came because of a consummate love—God cannot love us more and will not love us less. And in the forgiving debtor parable we have Jesus, himself, setting out the biblical ideal: God forgave us so we can forgive others. Now, if we responded to God and said, “Thank you very much!” accepting the free and merciful gift of grace, and say, “Thank you very much!” to those who forgive us, we are doing well. We have received the love offered to us. And if we’re awaiting others to say with repentant sincerity, “Forgive me, please?” then we can imagine we’re also doing well to wait patiently—there is nothing more we can do. We are ready to give the love that God invites us to give and that we have in fact given. We have faced the truth and are prepared to love. All good. And we are free to hold those at bay who refuse to honour the truth and deny the receipt of our love. It’s their problem.

Love is perfected through truth.
Truth is completed through love.

Things you’ll always have that can never be taken away

Counselling is simpler by far than a lot may think. By far and away the most important thing is to de-mystify the snares of life that emanate from the frailties of our minds—the false narratives we create, believe upon, and sustain by a shoddy lack of introspection; but equally that which we’re reliant on others to show us.

… what liberates us most is that these are common to us all.

… what liberates us most is that these commonalities of human frailty are common to us all; or at least to those of us who choose to be honest. From such a point, the invitation to spiritual healing is proposed. Encouragement abounds.

~

The first truth we must trust in is the fact of our common humanness. Accept this and existential freedom abounds.

We are so much like everyone else, even if we’re unique in every way. We all get mired in guilt and shame. We all think things are our fault that really aren’t. All of us who take too much responsibility for our maladies.

Of course, we either take too little responsibility (narcissists) or too much responsibility (empaths) in this life. The wiser person discerns adroitly their exact responsibility and they take only that portion. That’s a path that the empath can take.

There are two tasks here: 1) the discernment, which can feel cryptic, and 2) the courage to act, which can feel a bridge too far; “you mean I have to stand up for myself now; won’t someone do that for me?” No, they won’t. They shouldn’t. It’s ours to do that.

The things you’ll always have that can never be taken away are vast and true and ever yours. Of course, we are all walking miracles, powerhouses of God’s creative might, biology in regal stereo, with minds that can think awesomely, and hearts equipped to not only feel, but to compel action from feeling.

We have been forgiven. I repeat, we have been forgiven; for ALL our frailties, for all our capacities of lack, for our at times warped minds, for the wiles of our propensity to coerce. We experience this forgiveness, as justice would have it, when we admit our fault, our need of grace, and that we are constantly owned by the truth. All sounds so negative, doesn’t it? It isn’t. Nothing negative about it. The truth sets us free! But only if we accept we’re slaves to the truth.

The things we’ll always have that can never be taken away are vast and true and ever ours. Nobody is ahead of us and we’re ahead of nobody. It doesn’t matter how many ‘followers’ the next person has. They are human and so are you. It’s so sad that some people set themselves above others. Those who are given to comparison become either depressed or envious; neither is good. The paradox is that the person who sets themselves above others is least of all because they deny the truth that God put into all our hearts. Nobody is ahead of you even if it appears they are. And why would it matter if they were? We must stop coveting what others have and be grateful for what we have that nobody else has.

Things we’ll always have that can never be taken away are holy and good and ours. Even as we submit to fear, guilt and shame, we identify as human. Better to raise these to the layers of our consciousness than drive them deep into denial. Better to take responsibility for these frailties and admit them so we can grow through being unafraid of being weak for the guilt and shame we bear for being human. Healing comes through forthright, humble admission.

What can never be taken away from us—the Saviour of the world died for me—is something we will always have.

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Winning the war of love by losing every battle of hate

One thing that narcissistic people cannot do is heal. It is not their interest. Their interest is winning at all costs. And, they may seem to win at every point, insisting they get their own way, strategizing for the win, using their influence malevolently, but there is one area within which they lose every time—for all time.

The narcissist—seemingly living in the image of the enemy, Satan, himself—wishes to thwart every endeavour of goodness within the relationships, but just like Satan, they are destined to lose a war that is fought on a celestial battleground they know nothing about.

The malevolent one knows nothing about the power of love to defeat evil through the practice of death. Doesn’t sound very enticing, does it? We too quickly lose sight of the power of the cross to bring about cosmic reform. In one ‘foul’ swoop, the enemy is defeated.

As Christian people, practising Christian principles, going about our lives in Christian ways, we are all too easily tempted to complain about being persecuted, forgetting that this is the sign that we are God’s chosen people. Not that this is about glorifying suffering. Neither is that the way! But the Christian way is about bearing suffering in persevering ways, which is not resorting to revenge and counterattack.

Recall how Jesus was, as a lamb before its slaughterer, silent. I am not saying that we ought to be silent about things we suffer. We ought to do everything to the glory of God, and in so many ways that is about shining light into the dark places, reporting crimes, and bringing abhorrent leaders to justice. But we must do these things in a God-glorifying way, and the swiftest, most penetrating justice, causing least amount of damage to innocent bystanders, is that way.

As Christians, we ought to be ready to lose every battle so the gospel can be advanced for the winning of the war. That war is the conquest of winning one heart at a time; ours are hearts that must stay won to gospel cause, which demands humility of us over the long run.

No matter how malevolent other people are, especially when they’re against us, we must guard our own hearts to the extent that we resist temptation to contend, offence for offence. The only way we can overcome evil is through doing good, even if that often feels like a hopeless strategy.

Narcissists appear (appear!) to win every step of the way, and we would almost (almost!) be forgiven for our despondency, but God issues us a fresh challenge in the simplest of paradigm shifts. The narcissist’s win, we must always remember, is always distinctly hollow, because it depends on cutting others at down at the knees. It is a shockingly cruel stratagem and ultimately a comprehensively foolish plan.

Just like Satan was defeated when Jesus uttered, “It is finished,” our narcissistic nemesis is simply on a stay of execution. By carrying about the death of Jesus in our mortal bodies, by dying to our selfish aims, as Paul commended to us in Second Corinthians chapter 4, we issue others life, because of our mortal sacrifice. The enemy simply cannot contend with any level of altruism.

We ought simply to be glad that we know the truth; that the template was set at the cross; that we know the way forward for the Kingdom purpose; that there is a way of winning that comes about through losing.

Even the thought that we can allow the narcissist their pathetic win is a game changer. When we live in the gladness that the ultimate war is already won by not insisting on our own way, we have the tools to completely undo the narcissist without there appearing to be any effort from us. This undoing occurs at the level of the mind, but it’s undergirded by a heart committed to God’s way and not our own.

This doesn’t mean we don’t engage. We just engage in ways for the overall good. We know ‘this conquest’ is not just about them and us. It always involves others, usually many others. The overall good is about everyone. When we believe God can provide the answers we need—to help us establish a sound basis for the overall good of all—we find ways of doing it, one step at a time. Wives and mothers have been doing this for eons. Wives and mothers are still doing it. And many husbands and fathers as well. Anyone who serves their family to the extent of love’s sacrifice.

There is something incredibly encouraging about the gospel imperative; winning isn’t about winning the way the world ‘wins’. Jesus’ gospel imperative is that love wins over all. The belief that love wins gives us a quiet confidence as our battle mode. The pressure to win every contest, every argument, every stoush, we know, is off, because we know that that kind of win is beyond the point.

It’s typical that those who have endured much narcissist abuse require much healing. Sometimes there is such destruction of identity it takes much work and many years. Take confidence and courage in knowing, however, that in being transgressed to these degrees, you have not offended God to these degrees of evil; that your transgressor will face the ultimate justice. They lose.

Keep living for others overall, keep hoping on the victory to come, and most of all, keep the faith.

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The soldier of peace within a life of war

If life feels like a war, then we have read it correctly. The battles of life are impossible to avoid. And yet, biblically at least, we know we don’t fight against an enemy made of flesh and blood. We struggle against the powers and principalities that are unseen, and yet the signs of war are all too visible in our own behaviour and in that of others.

If we desire peace, we desire a good thing. Any Miss Universe contestant worth her salt would decree that she wanted ‘world peace’. We all desire that which will make our lives more comfortable, apart from those who say, “Hang the rest, I wanna be the best!” And there are plenty of those in that quarter.

Amongst those of us who desire peace, we must ask ourselves, why? Why is peace so important? If we desire inner peace without seeking peace for the other person, we are no more friend of God than the narcissist.

Peace must transcend our own selfish desires. Peace must be a global ideal or it amounts to nothing.

We only truly desire peace when we desire peace for everyone. Anything other than that is a lie. And yet, we must start from somewhere.

If we acknowledge that we face spiritual warfare each and every waking moment, and perhaps the moments in between, too, we imagine that we are in contact with the enemy at all times, whether we recognise it or not.

The knowledge that we are in all-out-war is all important; out of this, as if it were a wellspring, comes the purpose of life itself (see Proverbs 4:23 for this principle).

What I mean, is this: the fact that we are in a war means we cannot be inactive to survive. We have a mission. There is a life force in us. And until that moment when we transcend this life and tiptoe over the cusp of this mortal reality into death, while we live and breathe, while we can cogitate, while we can feel, while we can discern and judge, and while we can act, we have an opportunity.

Now is our time, like the fact that beyond this time is beyond our time. Now, and only now. Now is all the time we have to love our loved ones. Now is the only time we have to behave in ways that are not regretful. Now is the time to say what we need to say, and now is the time we need to do the things we need to do. Now is also the time where we ought not to do the things, or say things, we ought not to do, or say. But now is not simply about ‘doing’; it’s more about being and our driving, prevailing philosophy.

Now is the time to please God, which speaks of peace that is sown for the reaping of righteousness. Nothing else matters than justice and righteousness and fairness all borne on the wings of truth. No other fear is relevant other than the fear of the Lord itself. Fear of fellow humans indicates we don’t ‘fear’ God enough.

When our backs are against the wall, and the enemy is raging, and we are sinking into that dark pit, and we’re forlorn for response, we simply must trust.

Back against the wall?

Trust, trust, then trust some more.

Nothing is more important amid the ferocity of battle than to look to the Commanding Officer for the moment’s order. Our CO is saying, “Hold the line!” There is always a rising. There is always back up coming. We are never alone in this war, even if it feels like we are.

You may live this life, believing you’re a hypocrite. I know I regularly do. But we need to remember that there is no perfection in war, and tactical blunders are inevitable, forgivable, and even necessary. There will be humiliation. There will be times when we fail miserably. There will be times when we fall far short of our potential.

The direct route to God is to look for and to the CO. We must keep speaking our messages of hope and courage and faithfulness, even when the Lord has shone the light of heaven’s divinity on our sin of despairing and cowardice and disobedience. Especially then, for it is in the revelation of our wrong, and in confessing it and dying to it, that we gain ascent to the resurrection of the Lord. And it is the revelation of our wrong and our acceptance of God’s rebuke that we prove our worthiness of trust. God trusts us never more than when we’re humble enough to face our wrong and make restitution for it.

See how ridiculously kind the grace of God is in thwarting the enemy we battle with? All we need to do is have the humility to be shown the error of our ways and God will use us powerfully for a glorious Kingdom good.

Now, those who battle for Kingdom purposes, knowing that the war is not against flesh and blood, always see past the person of war, so they see the purpose of war. They see first and foremost the war in their own heart—the devil divides us in our inner being before he sets foot in the battles between us.

In godly humility, we see the fallibility in ourselves. We struggle to see the speck in the other person’s eye, because we’re so focused on the plank that’s in ours. This is the battle of personal accountability before the Lord. This is the primary battle; that God would own our own heart. Only then can we accede to the will of the Lord in others’ lives in trustworthy ways of leadership. What a divine paradox. Only the sinner who repents is qualified to lead.

We cannot contend for peace if our hearts are at war with ourselves.

We must reconcile with God in response to God’s reconciliation with us. God has done all the work in Jesus and look at the enmity and strife we bring upon God when we continue wantonly, and very often unconsciously, in our sin.

A sin done in response to a sin done against us never glorifies God. It mistakes the enemy, and we never fight for peace when we war against even those who war against us. They too may forget that we are not their enemy.

Jesus said, “Love your enemies.”
What is so hard to understand about that?

Having fought for peace by the acknowledgement of our own sin, in passionately believing in and acting upon overtures of reconciliation with those we’re in conflict with, we win the right to fight this holy war in the only God-acceptable way.

Above all, for the soldier of Christ, in seeking peace, there is the requirement of courage. It takes guts. It involves risk. It requires heart.

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Prayer for when you’re feeling overwhelmed

Feeling overwhelmed is a common malady in this busy life. I have found it helpful to pray when I’m overwhelmed, for it stops me fretting, which Psalm 37:8 says, only leads to evil. Here is a prayer to pray in seeking God’s comfort and guidance as you trust the Lord afresh:

Gracious God,

I feel the weight of this life, its concerns, my relationships, the varying priorities and the pressure to succeed, but I am comforted that Your Word reminds me that I am enough. My best, my faithfulness, my diligence, my obedience, my discernment; they are all enough. Thank You for these Words of comfort:

For the reminder to focus on what is pure and pleasing to You and praiseworthy and positive—to think on these things. (Philippians 4:8)

For the armour of God that I can put on at any time to protect me against the poisonous darts of the enemy—so I can take my stand against the enemy, as I know I don’t war against flesh and blood. (Ephesians 6:10-12)

For the fact that, in You, who planned for me to be here, who purposed for me the life I now live, who has prepared me, I have enough, and I am enough. (Psalm 139)

For the reminder that perfect love, Your love, casts out fear, and all I need to do is trust Your love and Your provision for me. (1 John 4:18)

For the truth that You are with me, indelibly through Your Spirit, that You never leave me nor forsake me, and that I can trust Your Presence with me when I face trouble. (Psalm 91; Hebrews 13:5-6)

You call me to remember a golden and everlasting truth; that when I need You most, Your yoke is easy and Your burden is light. (Matthew 11:28-30) And I’m so thankful that You don’t resent it or me when I call on You when I most need You. You somehow understand that I call on You when I need You, and You show me that this makes perfect sense to You. And I trust the fact that You never change. (Hebrews 13:8)

You tell me in Your Word that I can take every thought captive and make it obedient to Christ—that mastery of mind is possible, provided I put You and Your purposes first, and rest in Your strength in my weakness; for when I’m too weak to be strong, You are my strength. (2 Corinthians 10:5)

Lord, in the pain that represents the emotion of this moment when I’m all at sea, bring me to the safe recognition that You have already ordained for me a quietness of soul knowing You are the solution, and that so long as I look to You, it is well with my soul. (Psalm 131)

It is with thanks and praise, even in having felt overwhelmed, that I pray,

In Jesus’ name,

AMEN.

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What kind of apology conveys sincerity?

One of the mysteries in relationships is just how we redeem trust when trust has been betrayed. Here are the seven A’s of confession, which are a formula for a sincere apology:

Address everyone involved

There is an assumption we may make that we only need to apologise to the person we directly hurt, but how often are innocent bystanders affected. Even those who are indirectly affected, including those who were implicated or embarrassed, deserve an apology. In family, business and church conflicts, public confessions are often appropriate, unless each one is identified and made personally. Anyone who was ‘put out’ has a claim upon an apology. 

Avoid if, but, and maybe

“I’m sorry if you’re sorry.” “I’m sorry, but you shouldn’t have done what you did.” “I’m sorry. Maybe from now on, though, would you…” In each of these words—if, but, maybe—there is a conditionality that utterly destroys the faithful intent needed to convey a sincere apology.

Admit specifically

This is where a great deal of thoughtful reflection is needed. If we don’t understand exactly why the person we hurt is upset, we cannot hope to convince them that we care enough to reconcile the matter. When we apologise, we need to be able to say what it is specifically that we did wrong or should have done better.

Acknowledge the hurt

This is where the heart, empathy, and the ability to transact with the other person’s pain is essential. This, for me, is sincerity in a nutshell. The other person smells insincerity from a mile off. So, this has the power of convincing the other person we really understand and care but without it the apology begins to look thin, like “You don’t really know how much it hurt me, do you?” The ‘A’ is about having the spiritual strength to sit in the person’s pain with them.

Accept the consequences

This is where the rubber hits the road as far as our willingness to suffer for having done the wrong thing. Will they trust us again? This ‘A’ acknowledges that we have no control over whether they’ll trust us again or not. It also accepts that there’s a punishment due, and it’s the capacity to say, “Okay, I’m willing to accept whatever it is I can do to make it up to you.” This ‘A’ is about making amends.

Alter your behaviour

How many apologies are given without those apologising committing to not doing what they did again? But true apologies are that sincere there’s a promise that behaviour will change i.e. repentance. Nothing communicates sincerity like, “I will never do this to you again.” Such a promise is a serious undertaking. And when we do promise never to do that thing again it will also require significant time and effort to bring it to pass.

Ask for forgiveness

A distinctly Christian apology involves the request of forgiveness. “Will you forgive me,” without making the apology conditional on it. The great thing about asking for forgiveness is we put ourselves entirely at the other person’s mercy, and that, you will find, is the crucial part in making relationships work—that we place ourselves at others’ mercy. Of course, wherever this is consistently abused we ought to install boundaries and that kind of trust we rescind.

Please note that the language of apology only works with good effect when the other person, too, has the ability to apologise if or whenever they would need to. 

Acknowledgement to PeaceWise ministry wisdom herein. Go to peacewise.org.au

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When counsel blurs into abuse

“There’s a prayer for that…” In other words, “Pray and all will be fixed.” “Forgive in all circumstances, no matter what they’ve done.” “I’m sure they didn’t mean to hurt you.” “Don’t worry so much about the abuse they mete out to you, what about your sin?” Such dangerous philosophies for life. I won’t call it theology, because that makes a false doctrine something it could never be. None of us makes God our very own whipping boy.

This is something for every ‘minister’ to be wary of, whether they be pastors, counsellors, chaplains, or anything else. Words have power, as does the person who says words of counsel. With full belief a person will walk out of the room, unbeknownst to them, abused by crikey.

Some are switched on enough to know that something wasn’t quite right. This unnerves even the naivest disciple. Something amiss leaves one striving for explanation even if only their spirit knows.

Counsel blurs into abuse in the untidy second the helper is so self-assured that they reel out a cliché of convenience in a metaphorical wiping of hands on a job well done. It is a job well done of evil, that’s what. That helper has played right into the accuser’s hands.

The very moment the ‘minister’ does something or thinks something or says something without cognisance that “gee, this might be wrong” is the moment all of heaven holds it breathe aghast at the arrows flung from the enemy itself.

I could go on, but what does it matter? It matters! Lives are thrown about, tossed on life’s waves, to and fro, because of the careless whispers of those ‘qualified’ to counsel.

All. Listen. Stop. Words. Cut. Deep.

Wisdom, on the other hand, feeds an army in the succinctness of a sigh.

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A prayer of thanks for the presence of peace in spiritual warfare

My God

You have heard my cry for mercy. You’ve stayed the slayer and you’ve doomed the leviathan. You took what wasn’t mine to take and you gave it over to the plight of angels who alone can deal with interminable misery. Bearing your power, they take joy in contending for those of us who would be and have been utterly forlorn.

That peace you gave, redeeming me from the grave, because you alone can save.

Thank you. For the ministry of your Spirit, for the wings that shelter me, whether I sense your protection or not, and for the clothing you provide me in weathering the storm of intercession, thank you. Your grace is sufficient even when it doesn’t seem enough. What an eternal paradox!

You have reminded me, through the presence of a companion, that you have a way, you have a time, you have a purpose, and that trust is what is needed. You have shown me the gravitas of my fear. You have taken my dread and you have dealt with it. You showed me my hatred-for-self and you granted me a higher perspective. You gave me reason enough to see what I needed to take heed of. You blessed me with a comprehension that mistakes nothing of your immediate purpose, and surety of faith is now mine. For such a time as this.

Give me the sustaining wisdom of one who would sure-up your holy work deep in my spiritual fissures and furrows. Make me soft-hearted for my hard-heartedness of self. Make me soft-hearted and determined-of-mind whenever I deal with people, for I’m not the only one easily maimed.

Sprinkle me with the baptism of joy, a hope that sustains me, a love for your cherished ones in my life, and a peace that far exceeds my wildest hopes.

Most of all, as I wrestle with any present or future attack, as I beat myself up, as I take on too much, as I say yes once too often, as I betray myself as you never give me ascent to do, help me experience your soothing touch, heal me by your covering Word, and, as you brace me even in the midst of sorrow, give me the ascent I dearly need.

In Jesus saving name

AMEN.

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Do you show signs of undiagnosed burnout?

April 2005 was my initiation to a form of burnout. In our day we see so much of it. And there is so much of it undiagnosed. So many continue through it because it’s all they can do. Situations like this, we understand why people remain in denial, because an admission of a problem means the door to weakness and vulnerability is opened.

So, what are the signs to look for. These are the things I’ve found from my own experience and from the experience of others.

From a normally well-ordered person, you have become someone quite chaotic. Interest for structure has significantly waned. There is now an innate belief that you can’t manage what could once be managed. Even things like your own self-care, your health, your self-discipline—all seem interminably harder than they normally would be or have been.

You constantly feel you’re on the road somewhere, but you never arrive. You always seem to be doing something and never seem to be finished. There is ever growing list of tasks to do, and you never arrive at the bottom of the list. There is always more to do.

Your tenacity and commitment keeps you pushing and working hard, but despondency creeps in more and more regularly. And it happens that a strength—the ability to battle through and get the job done, day in day out—becomes the nemesis. You wonder just why your capacity for responsibility has become a snare.

It just seems that there is a never-ending stream of tasks and demands to get through and your mind, which is skilled at coping with a lot at the same time, hasn’t become more adept at managing the load, but less. There is a learned sense of defeat experienced, called learned helplessness, because despite ongoing excellent efforts, there is no reduction in the work coming and the quality of your outcomes seems to have become irrelevant, though you know it isn’t. Great results are increasingly unacknowledged. More is expected for less. And it’s unsustainable.

You cannot take a break. It feels like if you stop, everything stops. And even when people are telling you that you must take a break, you feel like stopping is impossible, let alone being still. Being still has become an unreachable goal. Even for five minutes, being still is torture. You need a break, you know it, but you cannot get out of your mind and the pattern of your ‘doing’ behaviours. You feel as if it’s easier to continue working, however inefficient or ineffective you may feel you are.

A more nuanced concern develops about this time; the incapacity to care, commonly called compassion fatigue. Imagine being a leader of people and suffering an unacknowledged burnout. You’re not aware that you’re suffering the incapacity to do your job well. Perhaps you don’t care. But those who normally do care should be concerned that the capacity to care is absent.

What happened? When did the capacity to care seem to ebb away? It isn’t good enough that it’s gone unchecked. And there will be carnage—people who rely on such leadership will be subjects of abuse, be it emotional, spiritual, neglect etc. Compassion fatigue is a serious assault on anyone who must care as a core competency of what they do—parents, pastors, managers, etc included.

When you finally realise it’s burnout that’s causing compassion fatigue, that’s causing you to abuse people in your care, and you’re an empathetic person, such an epiphany can cause a heartrending breakdown where you’re racked with guilt and riddled with shame. And what exacerbates this situation is just how unpredictable your moods can be; irritability is the gait of your emotional datum whenever a semblance of pressure is felt. When your words are quick and your tongue is sharp, people begin to walk around you like you’re all standing on eggshells.

There’s no doubt about the fact that in burnout permanent changes can begin to occur in our psyche if we don’t intervene. But interventions are tricky because if burnout is anything it’s an entrenched pattern of many behaviours and a mindset that drives the desire to keep up. Despite the circumstances even, it can feel impossible to install change.

And finally, I really think there’s a heavy correlation between burnout and trauma. Trauma changes us permanently and we must accept that a new normal is an opportunity we just must embrace. Trauma is not the end, even if it feels that way. Trauma is an invitation to a new reality and moving forward into it is positive and hope-giving, whilst being patient about triggering and regressions.

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One thing we must recognise in burnout is it’s so incredibly complex it requires a multidisciplinary effort and an extensive period of time to climb out of it.

Australian, Keith Farmer, a practitioner and researcher into burnout, estimates that the average time to recover from entrenched burnout is 12-21 months. He says it’s remarkably common in ministers. It requires the courage to consider and then implement significant change, which involves choosing for loss.

We just must embrace the idea that we can commence the process of change any given day, but we must also expect there will be many missteps along the way.

Please, God, remind me…

Please, God, remind me…

Of so many things that seem to overwhelm me because I place them first and not you. Remind me of the times, right within the moment itself, when I’m about to respond in fear or jealousy or anger or sadness, just what I’m placing above you, and why I have made that choice. Give me a moment’s reflective humility and insight, such that I would not react, but that I may respond in a way that does no harm and seeks to glorify your purposes.

Of the challenges to my thinking, that I am confined to one way of thought. Help me to see any of your wisdom present in the thinking that seems bizarre to me. Keep within me an open mind and quell my heart of any innate dissonance.

Of the fact that I cannot be everything to all people; of the fact that I am limited by time and experience and skill and passion. Help me to accept, that while I would like to do so many things, and that there are even so many things to be done, that I am limited, yet most powerful for you when I discern what not to do from that which you are calling me to do.

That there are people who see the world differently, just as there are people who find me hard to tolerate, as much as I find some people are hard to tolerate. Remind me of the value of diversity, and that you need many different viewpoints to be considered at once if your ways are to be respected. Help me see when it’s my pride that’s triggered and speak cogently to me in your gentle way to help me to come around. Help me to see that within conflict is an opportunity. Help me, please, to practice what I preach. Remind me again of how much I matter to you, God, and how little it matters that I get my own way.

That there are many confusing things in this life that I will never understand. Help me reach a place of acceptance within the myriad mysteries of life; the whys of racism, sexism, murder, rape, and abuse. Remind me how quickly I react in the wrong ways and keep at the forefront of my mind but there are many things I could say or do that would not help and that may cause significant harm.

That I have a more-or-less constant relationship with guilt and shame and that that is okay, and better still when I’m aware of them and able to healthily enquire of them. Thank you that you made me such an intricate being.

That there are people who I am called to help, who, despite my willingness and skill, I may fail because of my human frailty. Please remind me that their grace is contingent on many things, and that I will not always be forgiven, and that that is okay. Help me to recognise where I go wrong and give me the wherewithal to make amends where I can, and also to accept that I cannot control people or their responses.

Of the need to pray, and to continue to always practice surrendering my pride for the truth. Forgive me for the times I don’t and help me repent of these times. Give me your awareness and then the courage to act against my selfish purposes in seeing the broader, wiser perspective of your purposes.

Remind me, Lord, that while I’m stuck in this bodily life of being human that I will struggle with these issues; that these issues won’t miraculously go away, and that even despite these issues you hold me.

There are many things, Lord, that I need to be reminded of constantly. My desire is that your will would be made known to me and that you would give me the courage to act in accordance with what is right, just and fair.

In Jesus’ name,

AMEN.

Photo by Raj Eiamworakul on Unsplash