Inside: During seasons of acute exhaustion or stress, if others can do work that we’re struggling to do, we might need to step aside and let them. Here’s what that could look like. ~
Years ago, I had an email conversation that made me want to drop everything and take a sympathy nap.
Every sentence oozed discouragement as my formerly energetic friend described how exhausted she was. How she had to drag herself through each day. How void she was of enthusiasm and vision.
Her words reminded me of a season when I felt much like she was feeling. I didn’t have near the full plate that my friend carried at the time, but I know what it’s like to trudge around all day in a perpetual state of overwhelmedness.
I’m not talking about being a bit too busy or somewhat over-committed. Rather, this has to do with the kind of mind-numbing fatigue that stems from circumstantial, hormonal, relational or physical factors that often are beyond our control.
A Helpful Motto
When I was in the middle of all that, there was a little phrase that guided how I used my time and energy:
“Only do what only I can do.”
Contrary to what we sometimes think, we are not indispensable. And during seasons of acute exhaustion or stress, if there are others who can do work that we’re struggling to do, we might need to step aside and let them.
Here’s a case in point. I used to work in the children’s ministry at church, teaching a class of fifth and sixth graders once a month. There were some great kids in this class, including my own daughter. But because of my depleted state, I often found my patience wearing thin and my irritability level rising as I tried to get them to focus.
Time for a Change?
When I began to dread going to church on those Sundays when I had to teach, I started to wonder if it might be time for a change. The turning point came when I realized that I would not want someone with my attitude teaching my own daughters. Maybe it was time to move on to something else.
The children’s pastor graciously let me off the hook. I relinquished my teacher title knowing there were other people who could oversee the class. My little motto gave me the freedom to let go and find ways to serve that better matched my gifts and personality.
That wasn’t the only thing I dropped or said no to during those years. I turned down leadership opportunities. I didn’t sign up to be a room parent at my daughters’ elementary school (though I did make treats for class parties). I didn’t volunteer for much of anything, really.
At times, I felt selfish and guilty. I wondered if people were disappointed in me, and maybe they were. But during that season of my life, I had to put my own oxygen mask on first before I could help anyone else.
So I only did what only I could do.
Top Priorities
For me, this mostly included taking care of my home and family. Beyond my household and caregiving duties, I focused on what I thought was important, even if it tuckered me out. For example, when my older daughter Lilly was in fourth and fifth grade, she wanted me to have lunch with her once a week. The cafeteria was noisy and the kids were rambunctious, but I went because I sensed she needed me.
I’m not suggesting weary people should never participate in activities or ministries that take them out of their so-called “comfort zones” or don’t seem to fit their obvious skill sets. Sometimes when the call for “all hands on deck” goes out, it is our moral or spiritual obligation to answer it, no matter how fatigued we are.
Also, the practice of only doing what only you can do isn’t necessarily a permanent decision-making strategy. You might be worn out now, but you probably won’t be worn out forever. Seasons change, energy levels go back up, enthusiasm returns. It might require medical intervention from time to time, but it does happen.
For a while, I had so much margin in my life there was hardly room for anything else. As I started to feel more like my normal self, I began adding things back in. But only very strategically.
One Step at a Time
I haven’t forgotten what those tired days were like. In the years since then, I’ve had to cut back again—more than once, and sometimes even more drastically.
God is faithful to restore, but His timing often looks nothing like ours. Which is why our walk of faith is always one step at a time.
If you are slogging through your own weary season right now, I know words from me won’t change much. But I do understand.
You are making a difference, even if you see no tangible proof right now. So hang in there. It won’t always be like this.
And if it gets worse before it gets better, as it sometimes does, take a tip from someone who’s been there and only do what only you can do.
It’s hard to let go, but it’s worth it.
• • •
No Post Here Next Week
Next week, I’ll send out my subscriber-only, email newsletter, Courage, Dear Heart, which replaces my third blog post of each month.
If you filled out the subscription form and haven’t received anything yet, the confirmation email probably went to your junk or spam folder. If you can’t find it there, please subscribe again and check those folders for the opt-in message. Be sure to add the newsletter’s email address to your safe list so you don’t miss anything else.
If you haven’t had a chance to sign up for the newsletter yet, you can do so here:
As my way of saying thanks, you’ll receive a free copy of my 7-day devotional, Faith, Fear, and the God Who Goes Before Us.
♥ Lois
We are not indispensable. And during seasons of acute exhaustion or stress, if there are others who can do work that we’re struggling to do, we might need to step aside and let them. Share on X God is faithful to restore, but His timing often looks nothing like ours. Which is why our walk of faith is always one step at a time. Share on XP.S. I’m linking up this week with InstaEncouragements, Let’s Have Coffee and Grace & Truth.