Wear and Tear

It is not a sin­gle strain that causes dam­age to your back near as much as it is the life­time wear and tear of thou­sands and thou­sands of rou­tine motions. The truck dri­ver dis­cov­ers that, after push­ing the heavy truck clutch a cou­ple of hun­dred thou­sand times, he can­not do it any­more and has to retire. Like an old used car, the human body wears out — from the most used joints to the least used mus­cles. Sooner or later, rep­e­ti­tion takes its toll.

The same is true for the human psy­che. Our souls are pretty resilient, but after a long time of a par­tic­u­lar stress, you go through burnout. It comes ear­lier for some than oth­ers. As a coun­selor, I have heard many peo­ple talk about how they walked away from a job, a mar­riage, or a social sit­u­a­tion, because they had sim­ply worn out. The sub­urbs are full of for­mer “Super-Christians” that were once the hard­est work­ers in their respec­tive mega-churches.

I was recently con­tacted by an old alma mater in a fund drive. They were so proud that I was still preach­ing. The years had taken a toll on so many of their grad­u­ates. They had drifted to other inter­ests and fields. Many other pro­fes­sions are also high burnout call­ings: nurs­ing, social work, and teach­ing — just to name a few.

“Be faith­ful unto death…” that is the clincher. Spir­i­tu­al­ity is a marathon. There is no instant spir­i­tual matu­rity. The course cov­ers decades not weeks. Suc­cess is along the lines of the fable of the tor­toise and the hare (the tur­tle and the rab­bit if you grew up since 1970). The spirit that out­lasts the grind of daily liv­ing, that keeps its head above the crowd, that paces itself for the long haul — that is the one that hears, “Well done faith­ful ser­vant, enter into the joy of the Lord.”

Today is just another install­ment on that. Go for the long haul. Do not let the wear and tear of life dis­cour­age you. The road ahead has no end. Live in the aspir­ing life men­tal­ity that never exhausts itself.