When Your Soul is Tired: Root Causes of Burnout and the Path to Recovery

Burnout is a topic near and dear to my heart — because I've lived it. More than once, actually. And when I sat down with my co-host and dear friend Brooke Jack to record this episode, I learned she had too. That surprised me at first, because Brooke carries such a beautiful mantle of joy and lightness. But then I realized it shouldn't surprise me at all. The people most at risk for burnout are often the ones who care the most.

What Burnout Actually Is

Burnout is more than being tired or stressed. It's what happens when your inner battery is completely drained and no matter how much rest you get, you just can't seem to recharge. Even a vacation might offer a little relief, but the depletion returns.

The World Health Organization recognizes burnout as an occupational phenomenon with three key dimensions: exhaustion, cynicism or detachment from your work, and a reduced sense of personal accomplishment. I can honestly say I've experienced all three at different points in my career.

It's also worth noting that burnout overlaps significantly with depression, so the warning signs can look similar. Persistent fatigue that doesn't improve with rest. Increased irritability. Things you used to love feeling less meaningful. Sleep disruption, brain fog, trouble concentrating. Physical symptoms like headaches, digestive concerns, and muscle tension. Your body is communicating that something is off.

Why It Happens to People Who Care Deeply

Burnout happens when we care so much about something that we pour everything into it — and do so for too long without adequate recharge, self-care, and spiritual grounding. It isn't a character flaw. It's often a reflection of our most beautiful qualities stretched too far without the counterweight of rest and renewal.

A few personality traits make us especially vulnerable: perfectionism, people pleasing, and difficulty setting boundaries. In America, we wear busyness as a badge of honor and celebrate productivity while quietly dismissing the need for rest. That cultural pressure is real, and it sets us up.

Midlife adds another layer. You're often raising and launching children, caring for aging parents, and at the peak of your career — all at once. And beyond the personal, the world itself has given us a lot to carry. Those of us in Asheville know this particularly well, having navigated a global pandemic, a devastating hurricane, and ongoing social and economic upheaval, all in a short span of time.

What We Can Actually Do About It

The hopeful part of this conversation is that there are real, practical things we can do.

Spiritual rhythms come first. Sabbath keeping has been one of the most important practices in my own life. I'm not perfect with it, but I give myself grace. I look forward to a day each week where I loosen my grip on achievement and just rest — being in God's presence, spending time with family, being in nature. It sounds so simple. And yet when I shared this concept at a medical conference recently, one person was genuinely baffled by the idea of taking a day off each week. We've drifted far from what we were designed for.

Sleep is non-negotiable. I'm admittedly compulsive about getting to bed before 11 and protecting at least seven hours. I track my sleep and take it seriously. When we don't sleep, everything else suffers — our mood, our focus, our resilience.

Learning to say no is a discipline. For those of us with people-pleasing tendencies, this is deep emotional and spiritual work. Brooke shared something practical here that I loved: before saying yes, ask yourself whether this aligns with your values, moves you toward a goal, and will genuinely feed you rather than drain you. Boundaries aren't walls. They're wisdom.

Calendaring. I love this word that Brooke introduced me to. When we intentionally block out white space — for rest, for a workout, for reading, for a Sabbath — we're not being passive. We're being purposeful about protecting what matters.

Nourish your body. Ultra-processed foods are quietly destroying our health and making us more vulnerable to emotional and mental health struggles. Whole, nourishing foods and regular movement are not optional extras. They are foundational to resilience.

Connection and accountability. One of the most powerful things Brooke said in our conversation was that the trusted people in her life often recognized the signs of burnout in her before she did herself. We need people who can see our blind spots and speak truth in love. A friend, a Sunday school group, a counselor, a pastor. That connection is not a luxury. It's protection.

Identity Is the Root of It All

Perhaps the most important insight from our conversation came from Brooke when I asked how she keeps her passion alive without burning out. Her answer went straight to the heart: it comes down to where your identity is rooted.

When who we are is defined by what we do, we will never feel like enough. There will always be more to accomplish, more to fix, more people to serve. But when we know that we are already loved, accepted, and valued simply because of who made us — that changes everything. It brings freedom. We don't have to be all things to all people all the time.

As Brooke put it, she used to have it backwards — her "do" was defining her "who" instead of the other way around. Getting that right has been the game changer.

A Word of Encouragement If You're in It Right Now

If you're feeling burned out or wondering if you might be heading that way, please hear this: there is no shame in that. Burnout is not a personal failure. It is a signal that something is out of balance — and it is an invitation to pay attention.

The first step is simply acknowledging it. Then lean into your spiritual practices. Open your Bible. Pray. Worship. Reach out to someone you trust and let them know how you're feeling. It's amazing how healing that can be.

Progress doesn't have to be dramatic. Teeny tiny steps are still steps, and every bit of forward movement deserves to be celebrated.

Looking back on my own seasons of burnout — which overlapped at times with grief, loss, and depression — I can now see them as a work God was doing in me. Painful, yes. But ultimately a beautiful opportunity to go deeper in self-care, in spiritual grounding, and in community. You can come out the other side more whole, more purposeful, more yourself.

There is always a way forward. Always.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ljxeB0REncA&pp=0gcJCSMKAYcqIYzv 

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