Burnout isn’t the inevitable result of working hard, it’s the byproduct of carrying the wrong weight. This post explores how fear, control, and misplaced responsibility drain Kingdom workers, and why rest is not a luxury but a necessity for revival. Using personal stories from athletics and ministry, it calls missionaries and leaders to serve from overflow, not exhaustion.

As Whitney and I move toward the mission field, I STILL have these little moments where I’d replay the idea in my mind and think, This is great in theory, but… what if I’m not even hearing Him right? What if this is just me making it up? What if we’re in over our heads and totally unqualified?

What if hearing God isn’t about catching a booming voice, but catching a moment? One unexpected sauna conversation flipped my whole perspective.

Ever feel like your generosity dreams are bigger than your wallet? What if Jesus isn’t waiting for your jackpot, just your yes? This blog might change how you see your “not-enough.”

That’s when it hit me.

There’s a subtle but dangerous error I can make in my relationship with Jesus.
I start to follow him like a fan.
I cheer him on, I get frustrated when people criticize him, I like defending him in public.
I follow people who post about him. I collect stories from the people who really seem to know him. I even study his statshis …miracles, his teachings, his movements.

And if I’m not careful, I’ll know a lot about him… without actually knowing him.

There’s paperwork to file. Budgets to adjust. Flights to book. Gear to sell. People to love. Offense to release. There are moments I want to scream, moments I feel completely outmatched, and moments where the progress is so slow I can’t tell if I’m still moving.

But I’ve learned: I can manage those circumstances without letting them shape my theology.

Because I’m not just talking about some ethereal destiny, purpose, or path - I’m talking about the decisions I am making RIGHT now in real time that feel like they are really high stakes with so much uncertainty in the mix.  The same question seems to keep popping up:

 Is this discernment, or fear?

What if God’s will isn’t a tightrope you’re trying not to fall off... but a wide-open field where you’re free to create, build, and dream with Him? This blog flips the fear-based narrative of “getting it right” and sets you free to move forward with purpose, passion, and trust.

If you're a missionary and your brain won't shut off at night
If you're second-guessing the God-idea that once had you on fire
If you're secretly wondering if you're in way over your head

You're not weak.
You're just on the frontlines of a dream that requires God to show up.
So GOOD JOB!!!

Here’s the problem… Kingdom work is never “done.”
So we sprint, we stretch, we sacrifice.
Until something starts to break.
And here’s the kicker… most of us don’t even see it happening, because we’ve spiritualized the grind.

In the coming months, we’ll be moving to South Africa to join a missions team. It’s a big step—full of unknowns, risk, and the kind of decisions that make people tilt their heads and ask, “Wait… why?” And while we’re excited, we also know this decision will raise questions.

That’s why we want to start here:
Not every yes looks like this. And that’s exactly how it’s supposed to be.

I’ve got two stories to tell you—and a deal to make. I promise to move fast, keep the details tight, and let the stories unfold just enough for you to feel what I’ve experienced—if you’ll give me the grace to hang with me until they come together.

I refer to them as seasons of consequence. Sections of my life where: How I showed up, what risks I took, and what decisions I made, and even how things out of my control played out ended up shaping the course of my life in significant ways. I wasn’t just along for the ride, I was choosing direction. 

When you walk with God, you find yourself at intersections like this more often than the average person. You’ve prayed. You’ve asked for wisdom. You’ve sought counsel. You’ve journaled and cried and laid your dream on the altar more times than you can count. But eventually, your discerning season ends. And a new one begins.