Hey Reader!

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I am happy to report that I am no longer battling pestilence. All last week, I spent it laying low (and mostly alone as Patrick was out of town). It made for a sad birthday, though I'm so grateful for friends who dropped off cheer at my door and loved me from a distance.

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Mind if I start with two book recommendations? They're not new, but they both had a profound impact on my life.

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​Left to Tell by Imaculee Ilibagiza.Wow. It’s about a woman who survives (true story) the Rwandan holocaust by hiding with several other women in a pastor’s closet where she has no room to move. She does this for months.

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While in that darkened closet, she asks for a French English dictionary and the pastor’s only 2 English books and teaches herself English. Her heart, forgiveness, and beauty astounded me.

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It reminded me of another amazing book, As We Forgive by Catherine Claire Larson which details amazing stories of reconciliation between perpetrators and victims of the same holocaust. At the end of that, I realized this: If these people can forgive the folks who hacheted their entire families, why am I holding onto to my unforgiveness? Absolutely lifechanging book.
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​The Rest of God by Mark Buchanan. I’ve read this book many times, and it helped revolutionize my view of rhythm and sabbath. In the chaos of living in France and all that went on there, Sabbath became a holy sanctuary for me and my family.

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But in the midst of my crazy-busy life here in America, I teeter on the brink of burnout. I realized that I’ve relegated Sabbath to the back burner again. So I’m going to re-read this book.

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I pray this Thurs-yay finds you resting, friend.

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Way:

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(NOTE: this article came from my new Substack account. If you'd like this kind of long form essay content on a weekly basis, you can subscribe here).

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Why It's Hard for Me To Take Care of Myself

Hint: It's not always good to be a "good girl"

I’ve been observing myself more lately, which I think is a good thing. Not in a condemning way, but as a matter of curiosity. And what I’ve noticed is that I tend not to take care of myself. I don’t find it valuable, oddly. Which makes no sense because generally I like me. And I know taking care of myself is important.

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As it relates to church hurt, the place I’m seeing where I fail to take care of myself is within the context of ministries and systems.

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Example: I once attended a conference and participated as a minor speaker. Throughout my time there, I noticed several ways my energy was being depleted. How I felt bedraggled and run over and through. So little margin. So little space.

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But this was how things were run in this system. And who was I to do anything about it? I wanted the powers to be to like me, to see me as a team player.

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But this little voice inside kept saying, “Take a break. Slow down. Ask for help.”

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I ignored that kind voice.

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Pressed on.

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Didn’t want to disappoint the expectations of the ministry.

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But now that I reflect back on that, I should have asserted myself. Should have listened to my need and my body. Should have valued myself more.

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Do you do this as well? Just plow forward without asking for help? In my own life, where it’s just me or me + Patrick, I am really good about creating healthy rhythms for myself. But when it comes to church work, ministry tasks, or publishing requirements, I have a hard time saying yes to me and yes to boundaries.

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Perhaps I’ve bought into the narrative that the entity must be served first and always—to my detriment. Perhaps I’ve so wanted to be the “good girl” in those spaces that I’ll even allow myself harm so that leaders will choose me again. I have become quite compliant, quite malleable.

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But now I see how that has damaged me.

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While we are called to serve others, we must serve out of our own state of abundance and health, not from depletion.

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Otherwise we will burn clear out.

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I hope I am learning how to say no, or to ask for help. I hope I can understand that creating safety around myself is not ungodly, but godly and right. An institution is not greater than an individual. As Diane Langberg says, “Jesus didn’t die for an institution. He died for people.” I am one of those people. So are you.

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When an institution asks more than you can give, when they push you beyond your capabilities to serve their lofty goal, when they push against your boundaries, they are not recognizing your preciousness in the sight of God. They are elevating the goals of the institution over the needs of the “lesser.”

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We are not meant to be cogs in a ministry machine. We are meant to be viable people in a living organism of kindness and hope and goodness. And we can say no. And we can take a step back. And we can take care of ourselves.

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If I could go back in time today, I would tell Mary-Back-Then to listen to her needs. I’d tell her to assert her right to take a break. I’d remind her that give-give-giving to her detriment will only cause burnout and sickness or both. I’d remind her that she is human, and she is not a machine. I’d remind her of her preciousness in the sight of Jesus. I’d remind her that as a human, she has limits, and it is good to recognize them and take care of herself.

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And hopefully, the next time I’ll retreat before I am run over. And I’ll not feel guilty about it. After all, Jesus died for me, too.

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So excited to share that LPL in audio form is only $10 until March 7th. Click the image to get the sale! :)

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As well, I have a brand new book that fits well into the message of Love Pray Listen. 199 Prayers for my Adult Child. If you struggle to pray for your adult child, this may empower you! Plus it has blank pages to register your own prayers and the dates you prayed them. How important to look at God's faithfulness as you pray!

Pray

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Jesus, would you help Reader find rest today and this week? Would you help Reader learn how to say no when it's necessary? Protect Reader from way too much busywork and far little margin. Give Reader a new yearning for you in hard places. Heal Reader's mind today. In Jesus's name I pray, Amen.

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You are worth taking care of, Reader!
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Gratefully,

Mary

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