Embers of Burnout,

Flames from Earth

          Be gracious to us, dear Reader of Tomorrow, gentle in your thoughts as you consider your ancestors—what we thought of our suffering, how we made sense of it, and how we persevered. We care about you. Set aside, for the moment, the technology of your day, even that embedded within your body and your mind. Turn it off—disconnect it—for unless we are mistaken, that tech is still not alive. It is not equivalent to you and cannot compare with your humanity. Join us unencumbered across the arm of space and the reach of the ages. Let us consider together our hurts, our hopes, and our dreams, despite the distance, and encourage each other to sustain the embers of life.

          Technology warps our hearts and minds here on Earth in 2024. It shackles us in our places of work and binds us within our homes. We hope you have broken free of this plague, wherever and whenever you live, but we fear you may be imprisoned by it even worse than we are. Perhaps Artificial Intelligence dominates your life, you are subjugated to machinations beyond comprehension, and you see no hope of escape. Your need remains for an individual purpose and an eternal future.

          We suffer here with paroxysms of agony on the slow, steady march toward death and beyond. Some of us, because of our hardships, wish we could become the rescuers for others. That is the purpose worthy of our lives—our gravanok. We desire to offer shelter and succor to the hurting, fire to the traveler lost in the blizzard. But relentless pain and soul-sucking bureaucracy stun our minds. Our own fires darken into dusty coals, gray and smoldering, nearly cold.

          We long to serve our friends and family with excellence, to light the way for the next generation. We wish to be model citizens, standing strong for what is right. But our strength dwindles. No flame remains—no heat and no light. How long has it been since we beamed with joy and purpose? How long since we increased our strength?

          We are burned out, caught up in the global pandemic of mental, physical, and emotional exhaustion. As we spin on the hamster wheel of technology, we forget what matters and how to care. We know we must break free, but where is our hope?

          The Bible speaks of a beneficent Creator who accomplishes good through every difficulty. Romans 8:28 says, “In all things, God works for the good of those who love him.” But most of us do not believe what we cannot see. Even if we do, we cannot fathom such hope during our deep trouble. The alternative to faith in God seems to be an unmoored life, as purposeless as the wandering frozen rocks hurtling through space. In our struggles, we often perceive no beauty and no majesty; in the throes of our pain, we recognize no design and no Designer. What can we do?

          To overcome burnout, on Earth, in 2024, we relax, reflect, and regroup. We get medical assessment and counsel of various kinds. We set boundaries, write in journals, and reduce stress where possible. We try to practice healthy habits of diet, exercise, and sleep, but we struggle to leave our poorest coping methods behind.

          Reader of Tomorrow, we care about you. We eagerly desire your extraordinary success in living purposefully, but we suspect your struggles are like our own. Partly for your sake, we will not yield to despair. For you, and for those who will follow you, we choose to relax, reflect, and regroup. We will not live for ourselves alone, but also for you, for the great design, and for the great Designer beyond our understanding. We choose to push our dusty little coals together, blow on them, and add fuel. When the embers glow again and burst into flame, we will light the way for travelers yet to come.

PS—I, TAT, have experienced some recent burnout, in part due to the chronic strains of medical practice, physical hardships, family challenges, and undue pressure upon myself to write for twenty-five hours per week. I have had to relax, reflect, regroup, and pray. Sometimes God seems far away, but when I pray and record my prayers, I am changed. My purpose remains: to give a good account to God at the end of my life, in no small part by turning my personal hardships into good for others. There is no guarantee of “success” for any writer, least of all for me. But my life purpose remains. I call it my gravanok.

If you liked this post, please send it to a friend. If the reading audience grows, agents and publishers become suddenly far more keen on joining in the Adventures of TAT!

Copy URL to Clipboard