This is the fourth installment of a series of articles in which I will attempt to bring a Christ-oriented perspective to the topic of burnout. This is a nuanced and multi-layered topic that cannot be fully addressed in one small article. Please bear with me as I attempt to speak words of truth and hope.

Sandra answered the call light for what seemed the billionth time that morning. Static muffled the gruff voice echoing through the call light speaker.

“Can I help you?”

“Ya. I need my nurse. Now.”

“OK, I’ll let her know.”

“Ya. That’s what you said ten minutes ago.”

“Mmm. Hmm. I’ll tell her,” Sandra says before hanging up on him.

“Julie,” Sandra swings her eyes to the nurse typing a book-like note on the computer at the end of the desk. “Your favorite patient is asking for you again,” she says with an eye roll and twitch of her lips.

Julie Huffs and continues typing furiously. “It’s not like I'm just sitting here twiddling my thumbs,” she mutters darkly to her screen and typing the last few letters with an extra measure of vehemence. She sighs and says louder, “Ya, I know. He will just have a wait for a bit. It’s not like he really needs me right now, anyways. He just isn’t liking the fact that they’re cutting back on his PCA.”

This was Kevin’s third admission in three months. A new record for him, though it’s not the kind of record, anyone would be proud of. It’s been three months of flare. Three months of the pain roller coaster. Three months of hell. Speaking of hell, where the hell was his nurse? She hadn’t come back to his room since the morning vitals, regardless of the fact he had pushed his call light every ten minutes for the past hour. Now it was a matter of principle, not just a matter of pain.

He knew what they thought of him. He had seen the knowing glances between white coats and nurses. He had noticed the lag and lack of urgency in the care he was receiving. He knew they had branded him with a scarlet letter of sorts, “Drug seeker.” The thought enraged him. Did they not get it? Didn’t they know the firey burn of pain that raged in his legs and back? He wasn’t making it up. How could someone invent a pain like this? Why is it that he was being punished for seeking relief from the never-ending nightmare of his disease?

Murderous thoughts filled his mind as the door to his room abruptly opened to reveal his bored-looking nurse. She smiled thinly at him. The kind of smile that never reaches your eyes and is miles short of your heart.

“Can I help you,” she asks as she rubs her hands with sanitizer and dons gloves. Mildly her eyes scan him and the room as she enters and stands by his bed, radiating irritation and impatience. Kevin glares back at her in defiance and states his pain is a 10, and he needs pain meds. Julie apathetically asks if he has pushed his PCA button, to which he balks at her.

“Of course,” he tersely replies, “about a million times. It’s just not working the way it used to.”

“Well, that’s something you will have to talk to the doctor about when he comes by today. Let's see what you have available right now.”

She walks over to the computer against the wall and taps her badge, illuminating the room with the awakened blue light of the screen.

“What time is the doctor coming today?”

“I don’t know. Hmm… Let’s see… looks like you have Ibuprofen and Tylenol available. It’s too soon to get anything else. Which do you want?”

“Ibuprofen?! You’re kidding me, right?”

“No.”

They stare at each other for about 20 seconds. Julie, with apathy, Kevin in disbelief. Kevin breaks the silence and mutters, “Ibuprofen,” as his shoulders slump, utterly defeated.

“Mkay. I’ll be back in a sec,” Julie replies, as she slowly walks out of the room.

And as the door closes and the screen goes back to sleep, Kevin sinks into a dark place in his soul. As dark as the hellish room he is in. Pain and despair mingle into a monster that is on the verge of devouring him whole. Unbeknownst to Julie, her attitude has triggered a metamorphosis of the darkest kind.

Over the course of the past few months, we have been exploring the theme of burnout through the lens of scripture. Research shows that burnout leads to compassion fatigue and the dehumanization of patients. We know that burnout is nuanced and that there are many factors contributing to that state of being.

However, we have also learned that what we know as burnout is a snare of the enemy. The Bible reveals that the enemy uses our human limitations and exhaustion to warp our perceptions of reality by sowing lies like seeds in the flowerbeds of our minds. And the thing is that our minds, when managed by our own abilities, are left vulnerable. We just don’t have the ability to care for our own hearts and minds the way that God can.

There is rest and life that can be found for those who are burned out. It is found in God. He is our rest. Many of the Psalms point to this. A few of my favorites are Psalms 16, 23, 27, 46, and 63. The lives of the psalmists show that when we entrust our weary hearts and minds to God, it is possible to rise and live beyond our circumstances, to fly without limit, and to endure beyond ability (Isaiah 40:31).

You see, there is a difference between people who have walled off their hearts on their own strength and those who have found rest and refreshment in Christ. There are many times in scripture when the difference is highlighted. In Judges 8:4-5 we see how a callous disregard for others keeps people from helping those who are weary and in great need. In 1 Samuel 30:21-24, we again see this callous response to people limited by exhaustion and need, yet this time the generosity of David, a pre-figure of Christ, is contrasted to the callous greed of others.

But God is not like us. He is not stingy, callous, or selfish. He seeks to lift up, where we rob dignity. No better is this highlighted than in the story of Hagar in Genesis 21:14-20. In callous disregard for anyone other than themselves, Abraham and Sarah sent Hagar and Ishmael into the wilderness to die. We see them starving, dehydrated, weary of life circumstances that have brought them to this point, and facing death.

The pit of hopeless despair they find themselves in is heartbreaking. However, this is when God reveals himself to mother and son. He gives them a promise for the future and refreshment to survive. The promise is for them to cling to in the long nights in the wilderness. His promise is to show his character that it is nothing like Abraham and Sarah’s. He is love. In fact, his love and presence remained with them throughout their time in the wilderness.

In Luke 10:25-37 Jesus tells a parable about callousness and contrasting love. At the end of the parable, he asks the Pharisees, “Which of these three, do you think, proved to be a neighbor to the man who fell among robbers?” What Jesus was really asking them was, “What is more important when you see someone in need, in pain, and dying? Will you sacrifice your time? Your safety? Your agenda? Your perceived ability to worship? What about your money?

I don’t know about you, but Jesus’ question hits home. It is easy to list out excuses for disregarding people, or for callous responses. But the thing is, God is not callous. And never has he treated his people with callousness nor stripped us of dignity. He calls everyone. He saves everyone. He loves everyone, and he poured himself out for everyone.

Why are you working? Are you driving your soul to weariness, exhaustion, and burnout to build your own tiny kingdom here on Earth? Or are you working to establish His kingdom, regardless of the monetary benefits you may or may not incur? You see, it matters who we are working for. If you work for yourself, you will always be exhausted, friend. You are not the Good Shepherd. You are broken and don’t really know what you need, though we are all very well-versed in what we want. Often what we want and need do not align.

However, beloved reader, if you work for God’s kingdom, he will give you rest. His rest is not like a quick breather on a long summer hike but a long stroll in a beautiful garden in the cool of the day with the best company. His rest lasts. It is sweet, refreshing, beautiful, comforting, and energizing. And somehow, his rest expands our hearts to love in new and impossible ways.

As in the words of David,

“You make known to me the path of life,

In your presence there is fullness of joy;

At your right hand are pleasures forevermore.” (Psalm 16:11 ESV)

Compassion Fatigue and Christ’s Love

Escaping the Snare of Burnout

The Dark Night of the Soul