Red flags and surviving well

“If any man saves alive a single soul . . . [it is] as though he had saved alive a whole world.”¹

With these words, the Talmud reminds us of the dimensions of our work. Yet with such grand dimensions come equally grand risks. With any ministerial calling come dangers, some easily recognized and others more sneaky. Day by day, month after month, we focus on the needs of people all around us, yet we are often oblivious to our own condition. Do you remember the Japanese fairytale Urashima Tarō? For years, Tarō was enchanted in an undersea fairyland, thinking it to be only a matter of days. Then, finally returning to his own world, he opened the mysterious box he had been gifted and the years caught up—he was transformed into an old man. Likewise, we easily get distracted and fail to see the changes within our very selves. There is a danger that we can go too far, and there may be no going back.

I have personally experienced significant burnout in ministry in Japan at least twice. Amusingly, “burnout” was not even an officially recognized condition in the therapy world until just last year. And even now, although the WHO acknowledges burnout,² the DSM-5 (the American Psychiatric Association’s manual that defines mental disorders) still delays, despite the Gallup Poll finding that 23% of employees feel burnout very often or always.³

Looking back at my burnouts I am still baffled. Of course, hindsight is 20/20, but while in the process, in the thick of ministry, I was totally unaware that burnout was building. This causes me to consider a crucial question: how can burnout, or other common mental and emotional ailments, be avoided? After all, these ailments have the capacity to derail ministry and mission, and even destroy lives.

Some years ago, I visited a communist country to evaluate the mental condition of a Japanese missionary couple. While there, the couple asked if I could also check on a trio of young American missionary women. The results came out quite shocking. The women were off the charts for risk of a mental/physical breakdown. While two of them were completely unaware, the third was already slipping over the edge; she had even begun to doubt the existence of God and the validity of the Christian faith.

During my years in Japan I have seen countless examples of mental, emotional, and psychosomatic problems, not to mention relational and spiritual meltdowns of people in ministry. I have seen irreparable burnouts, strange phobias, permanent chronic fatigue syndrome, anorexia, stress-induced loss of eyesight, as well as the usual assortment of anxiety disorders and depression. I could go on for pages. 

It’s likely all of those suffering had a couple things in common. First, they all loved God and wanted to see his glory and kingdom advance here. Second, none of them anticipated ending up with such an affliction. Despite so many sad stories, the scenario gets repeated over and over again. We focus so much on the surrounding needs of others that we damage ourselves. It’s a hard balance to maintain between sacrificial love in action and self-stewardship. 

The 2011 disasters

The most potent example of this I know was in the aftermath of the 3.11 disasters—the stage for my second burnout. It is unlikely that few involved had ever faced such frenzy to grapple with such overwhelming needs before. I recall one mission member-care supervisor who volunteered for but a single day. She told me it took her two days to recover. Meanwhile, I worked under that strain for ten months straight. My role was developing the Emotional-Care Department at CRASH. In the first weeks, we decided to split Emotional-Care into two divisions: Survivor-Care and Team-Care. I took on the Survivor-Care responsibility, and a colleague took the latter. However, after several weeks, my colleague had to step out for personal reasons and Team-Care faltered. Other people came and went, but Team-Care was never really what it needed to be. Very few involved in the relief effort had much training in trauma care, but one thing had been clear in my meager training: the safety of caregivers was top priority. At least half of the training had focused not on the care of survivors, but on caregivers. Without keeping caregivers safe, we merely multiply the number of traumatized people. 

Looking back, I see a glaring slip-up. Though I oversaw the care of survivors in one of the most complicated disasters in world history and for over ten months was exposed to grief, stress, trauma, and danger far beyond the normal call of duty, I, like countless others, was totally vulnerable. During those ten months I received no real care from my relief organization, nor my field mission, nor regional mission office, nor international headquarters. Not even a phone call. I was completely on my own.

By God’s grace, I am a survivor. Yes, I did hit big-time burnout, which ran its course, and God strangely and mystically reignited my inner fire in a cathedral in Vilnius, Lithuania (that’s another story). But I emerged with an acquired, let me call it, permanent fragility. I will likely never be able to push ahead full steam again. And I was left with the scourge of insomnia, which robbed me of energy (and sanity?) for around eight years. However, I believe my fate could have been much worse had it not been for one thing. 

Are you emotionally fit?

Although in my case the environment of protection for a caregiver was missing, the personal protection component was robust. In the years preceding the 3.11 Disasters, I had been establishing the Tokorozawa Community Care Center with the goal of prevention/recovery from depression and training of community caregivers. Because I knew I would be surrounding myself with people struggling with depression, I was daily practicing habits to keep myself mentally and emotionally fit. It was definitely a God thing. When 3.11 hit, I was in tip-top shape and ready to take it all head-on, month after month after month. I shudder to think of what might have happened had I been in poor shape to begin with.

Today, I wonder what percentage of those in ministry here are in a solid position for when a crisis hits (and we all know the Big One is coming). I wonder what percentage are actually in overflow mode, or just get-by mode? What percentage of missionaries are giving continually from a nearly dry well? So, where are you today? Do you have a sufficient environment of protection? If not, are you personally fit? Emotionally? Mentally? Spiritually? Do you know? When was the last time you took time to find out?

If considering those questions raises any red flags for you, then please do not delay. Drop stuff if you have to. Cut back. Take the time that you need. Try to get an idea of where you are. There are numerous screening mechanisms that can help. In minutes you can get a score on stress level, burnout, or depressive symptoms. 

Maybe 2020 is a year not for just hindsight, but to see your “now” more clearly and your vision for the future improved. “If any man saves alive a single soul . . . [it is] as though he had saved alive a whole world.” The salvation of each life is a grand task with great ramifications. It changes a whole world. Jesus said that if we save our life, we will lose it, and if we lose our life for His sake, we will keep it. But in order to lose it for Jesus’ sake, we must first have it, and that is the paradox. In that process, others, and even we ourselves, are saved, and I wonder if that be the pathway to saving a whole world. 

1. The Mishnah, trans. Herbert Danby, (New York: Oxford University Press Inc., 1933), p. 388.
2. Karlyn Borysenko, “Burnout is now an officially diagnosable condition: here’s what you need to know about it,” Forbes, https://www.forbes.com/sites/karlynborysenko/2019/05/29/burnout-is-now-an-officially-diagnosable-condition-heres-what-you-need-to-know-about-it (May 29, 2019).
3. Ben Wigert and Sangeeta Agrawal, “Employee Burnout, Part 1: The 5 Main Causes”, Gallup, https://www.gallup.com/workplace/237059/employee-burnout-part-main-causes.aspx (July 12, 2018).