It seems that lately I talk to more men who are overwhelmed by life. You could call it a mid-life crisis, a crisis of faith, or even burnout, but the stories are somewhat similar. It’s possible that the prevalence of this is “local” to me, or it could be a figment of my imagination, or it might simply be that my friends are all suddenly middle-aged and so I am more aware. What strikes me most about these stories is that they are not the stories of carnal Christians or immature men; they are the stories of men who have exhibited strength in the past and have a sincere desire to serve the Lord.
What I am offering is a theory, based largely on my own experience with this sort of burnout, that might offer some explanation and, in turn, help for men who are overwhelmed. But before we get to that, let’s describe the water in which we are drowning.
Mid-life tends to be a time when responsibilities are hitting a peak crescendo. A man is responsible for taking care of his family, which requires employment that pays enough to raise a family in our complex society. Since the kind of man I am describing has handled responsibility well, he is constantly being asked to handle more and more responsibility. At church, he may be asked to take on leadership roles. At home, he is responsible for the spiritual well-being of his family. His employer has tasked him with more and more responsibility – which he has accepted because it comes with the financial benefits necessary to support his family. And all of this is taking place as those whom he has looked to for support-parents and such-are at a place in life where they may need his support. So there is this downward pressure of responsibility that is happening in his life because he is a good man. Because he has been faithful, he has been given more responsibility. Only now, this responsibility is a pretty big weight on his shoulders from which he feels he can never escape.
Ok, so let’s set up a manly metaphor. Picture a train – the manliest of all transportation. Just as the train is tied to the tracks, a man at this stage of life does not wake up to an endles world of possibilities. He doesn’t feel like he is the master of his fate- more like he is tied to the mast. His responsibilities require him to get up and go to work, to stay up with sick kids, and to get his Sunday School lesson ready. Change is often not an option, and always a risk. The responsibilities don’t change if he is sick, or if the washing machine breaks down, or if he is having marital problems. The weight of responsibility is what he is pulling (and sometimes it feels like dragging) behind him.
Because there is always adversity, the front of the train bears a shield of thick metal sheathing which bears the brunt of whatever needs plowing through on any given day. It represents resilience, and determination, and will-power. It is chipped and weather-beaten from the daily grind. A man really does need this type of strength front-loaded in his life. We work the ground by the sweat of our brow and clear a place of peace in a chaotic and dangerous world in which our families can thrive. This type of thing doesn’t happen without courage and toughness and grit.
But here’s the rub, and here’s where a mistake can happen. The kind of grit it takes to face adversity is not the thing that powers the locomotive. Let me just break that down one more time so the point isn’t missed: the grit that enables you to plow through life is not the fuel that your engine runs off. I imagine those old locomotives had a pretty thick plate of metal on the front of them, but no one would ever think to throw that hunk of metal into the firebox. The coal went into the firebox to feed the engine so that the locomotive would have forward motion. The slab of metal on the front was to keep obstacles from stopping the train from getting to where it was going.
Is it possible that this simple principle (that grit can overcome adversity but cannot fuel forward motion) is the reason why some men stop moving? It simply isn’t possible to “grit” your way through everything in life. It is possible for grit to stop other things from stopping you, but grit cannot be your fuel. You have to be motivated by better things. The manly man who puts all of his energy into grit and neglects the fuel is probably going to fail.
On the other hand, the “men need to express their emotions more” type of thing has its problems, too, because this type of thing is not only bad fuel for the firebox, but too much of it rots and rusts the steel plate on the front of the train. Not that expressing emotion is wrong, but generally speaking God designed men to harden each other, not soften each other (Proverbs 27:17). So when you have a bunch of guys who speak to each other in therapeutic language, it doesn’t quite get the job done.
Now, we could just say that some balance is required, but sometimes when people use the word “balance”, what they mean is that they haven’t really figured out the precise dynamics of opposing forces. In an effort to be a bit more precise, I am suggesting that the gritty virtues of manliness should be forward facing (Luke 9:51) – towards challenges and adversity. But they don’t belong in the firebox.
Which leaves us with the question, “What fuels the engine?” My suggestion is faith, hope, and love (1 Corinthians 13:13). These are the things that actually keep the train moving. Without faith, hope and love powering our lives, no amount of grit can help us. The soldier that fights on the front has a nation he loves behind him, the faith that his service will make a difference, and the hope that the war will one day end. While not everyone is fueled in equal measures by faith, hope, and love, in some way all three are necessary to the forward motion of life. If one element is completely removed, the fuel loses its potency. Without hope, men stop moving. Without faith, men stop moving. Without love, men stop moving.
The man who is all passion and no grit may get up to speed quickly, but he won’t last against the fierce headwinds of life. The man who is all grit and no faith/hope/love will become hard. Hard and bitter and cynical. But the man whose heart burns with faith, hope, and love while he sets his face like a flint towards the tasks of the day will have his fuel and his grit in the right place.
For the man whose forward motion has stopped, my advice is to find some fuel. Remember the love you had at first. Date your wife. Play with your kids. Read the Word. Pray to God. Confess your sin. Go to church and hear the Word of God read out loud (faith comes by hearing), eat the bread and drink the wine of the New Covenant (there is no greater love), and give your Amen to the return of Christ (we hope for what we do not yet see).
For the man who has been derailed by adversity, my advice is to find some men with weather-beaten faces and learn their stories. Iron sharpens iron.
Nathan Writes 