7 Habits Helping Me Heal from Burnout
Four weeks ago, our family packed our boxes again—our second move in one year. Our first house here in Greenville, South Carolina, was a storybook farmhouse on a few lush acres, but the near-constant roar of motorcycles and trucks right outside our front door made it nearly impossible to homeschool or work from home in peace. Even beauty can’t drown out unrelenting noise, and what began as irritation grew into exhaustion.
So we moved across town, praying for much-needed relief. But as the movers carried our things inside, a pair of small planes circled overhead for hours. We’d visited this home half a dozen times and knew we weren’t under a flight path. Yet here they were, buzzing above, rattling something deep inside me. My heart raced. Adrenaline flooded my legs. Every ounce of energy went toward trying to stay calm until the sky finally quieted.
Valleys rarely announce themselves. They arrive as the sound of an airplane engine, the accumulation of a thousand unseen pressures, or the moment your body whispers what your soul has ignored for too long: enough. Looking back, this past year has been heavy: a cross-country move, a hurricane, a concussion for one of our kids, a new church, the release of my first book (which required over 40 podcast interviews and lots of travel), seven homeschool conferences, and the daily demands of running a small business and homeschooling four kids. Each one small by itself, but together, a tidal wave. I shouldn’t have been surprised when my body gave way.
As much as I’d love to skip this disorienting, exhausting chapter, the truth is that some lessons can only be learned in the valley. After all, that’s where living water runs. And it's where you come to know the Shepherd more intimately. As someone reminded me recently, you only come to know your Comforter when you’re in need of comfort. You only discover your Helper when you’re in need of help.
A couple weeks ago, I sat across from a beloved mentor, tea in hand, and confessed, “This year has been a lot. I think my body is dealing with burnout, or at least major adrenal fatigue.” She didn’t hesitate. With compassion in her eyes, she said, “Of course you are.” In that moment, I knew she had been in this low place, too, and had eventually found her way out. Without even saying the words, I heard, “You can heal from this, too.”
I’m not writing from the mountaintop yet. The planes are still buzzing overhead (though, thankfully, not nearly as frequently as that first day). I’m still somewhere on the climb, still catching my breath, still learning what it means to lean hard on my Shepherd who promises to restore my soul.
If you’re in the valley, too, please know this: you’re not alone. The Lord is not impatient with your weakness. He draws near to you. He stoops low. And even here, He is teaching us that the same Jesus who quieted stormy seas will sit with us when our storms come from inside.
Here are a few ways I’m learning to receive His care in this season. I hope you’ll see these not as formulas, but as invitations to walk with Him.
- Meditating on the Psalms. They give voice to emotions I can’t always name. Some of my favorites have been Psalms 16, 23, 42, and 91. When the lies feel loudest, I declare what’s true (using verses from these psalms) out loud.
- Moving my body every day. We live near Greenville’s 28-mile Swamp Rabbit Trail, and I use it every day—biking, walking, breathing crisp mountain air. I also do a Nourish Move Love workout 5 to 6 days a week, which is more for my mental health than physical health, though it helps both.
- Bringing my raw emotions to Jesus. He already knows, but there’s healing in confession. I’ve been journaling my progress, and even in a matter of weeks, I can trace His steady help back up the mountain. I also loved Blair Linne’s new book, Made to Tremble, about her journey with anxiety. I highly recommend it!
- Saying "no," even to good things. For right now, fewer commitments mean more space to love my family and my church family well.
- Contrast therapy. A friend introduced me to contrast therapy—spending time in a sauna, then cold plunging—for anxiety. Both times I’ve done this, it has been an incredibly powerful nervous system reset. I also end my morning showers with a couple minutes of the coldest water possible, which initially feels pretty miserable (ha!), but eventually does feel both calming and invigorating.
- Regular counseling. I’m meeting weekly with a Christian counselor who’s helping me uncover deeper layers of my physiological stress responses. She specializes in EMDR and also in balancing neuro nutrients in the brain. This holistic approach has been incredible.
- Taking supplements. Under her guidance, I’ve begun supporting my nervous system through targeted nutrition and supplements. She designed a supplement protocol that is specific to my body and needs. Because of this, I can’t really share specific recommendations, but highly recommend reaching out to a practitioner who could help.
