Burnout, Grace, and the Beauty of Starting Again

We all inevitably arrive at burnout. Though never pleasant—and something to avoid whenever possible—I’ve come to believe that it’s a natural part of the pursuit of excellence and the journey to becoming the best version of ourselves. Recognizing our limits doesn’t mean failure; rather, it’s a vital checkpoint in growth.

I used to think success was about endless winning streaks and perpetual victory laps. But as life has seasoned me, I’ve realized it’s in the losing, the falling, and the struggling that I’ve found the greatest victories. It’s in those messy, painful moments—outside my comfort zone, flat on my face, with scars to show for it—that I’ve discovered who I am, who I am not, and most importantly, what I was made for.

I believe this is the heart of Paul’s words: “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness” (2 Corinthians 12:9). It’s in the moments when I’ve reached the end of myself—overcommitted, overworked, overwhelmed—that I’ve been humbled into recognizing the truth: I was never meant to carry it all on my own. Yet, oh happy fault! Because in that humbling, I’ve found space for Christ to meet me in my limits and accomplish infinitely more than I ever could. What a paradox: when I am at my weakest, His strength works in greater measures.

Burnout, when surrendered to Christ, isn’t something I dread anymore. Those moments where everything feels like it’s falling apart don’t have to be nightmares or memories that haunt me. They’ve become something altogether different—memory stones. Each moment of burnout, when surrendered, becomes a marker on the path, a testimony of God’s faithfulness, guiding me forward.

Some of those memory stones are reminders of identity—pieces of my broken self that God gently pieced back together. Others are lessons of self-discovery, where the Lord revealed parts of me I hadn’t known or understood before. Still others are moments of deep intimacy, both in extraordinary events and in the quiet ordinariness of life, where I encountered His tender, personal love in a way that changed me forever.

Looking back at these memory stones, I can see how God took my burnout and turned it into blessing. It’s not that He wants us to push ourselves to the brink—but even when we do, He is there, waiting to turn the ashes into beauty. In those moments, I’ve learned that I’m not defined by my achievements or failures but by the One who loves me endlessly.

So if you’re in a season of burnout, take heart. It’s okay to admit you’re at your limit—it might just be the moment when God’s limitless grace breaks through. Take the opportunity to surrender, to rest, to let Him show you what you were made for. And when you look back, you may just find that what once felt like brokenness was actually the beginning of something beautiful.