Self-compassion as a gospel-centered practice
Now that the fall season has replaced the languid days of summer break with the rigidity of jobs and school semesters, it is a time primed for overwhelm and fatigue.
As women, we establish new norms, work flows, and schedules, and add them to the mental load we’re already carrying for our families. Burnout and exhaustion are often inevitable outcomes from what can only be compared to running a marathon with no finish line in sight.
While it is important to consider and explore the elements that perpetuate cycles of burnout for women, in this space, we are going to consider one simple, yet profound practice: Self-compassion, and its interrelation with our two most important relationships: with God and with ourselves.
DEFINING SELF-COMPASSION
So what do I mean by self-compassion? Simply, as psychologist and researcher, Kristen Neff1, offered, we can begin with one simple question: “Would we speak to others as we speak to ourselves?”
In caring well for others and crossing items off our endless to-do lists, we carry an often invisible weight—endless and steady thought loops of self-condemnation, comparison, and criticism exacerbated by the pressure of what it is to be “good enough”—a “good enough” wife, mother, sister, friend, neighbor, grandparent, or daughter. The cost? A perpetual cycle of tiredness and disconnection—from ourselves, our Creator, and those we care about most.
As women, we establish new norms, work flows, and schedules, and add them to the mental load we’re already carrying for our families. Burnout and exhaustion are often inevitable outcomes from what can only be compared to running a marathon with no finish line in sight.
While it is important to consider and explore the elements that perpetuate cycles of burnout for women, in this space, we are going to consider one simple, yet profound practice: Self-compassion, and its interrelation with our two most important relationships: with God and with ourselves.
DEFINING SELF-COMPASSION
So what do I mean by self-compassion? Simply, as psychologist and researcher, Kristen Neff1, offered, we can begin with one simple question: “Would we speak to others as we speak to ourselves?”
In caring well for others and crossing items off our endless to-do lists, we carry an often invisible weight—endless and steady thought loops of self-condemnation, comparison, and criticism exacerbated by the pressure of what it is to be “good enough”—a “good enough” wife, mother, sister, friend, neighbor, grandparent, or daughter. The cost? A perpetual cycle of tiredness and disconnection—from ourselves, our Creator, and those we care about most.
MARTHA AND MARY
I find myself returning time and again in this season to the Luke 10 gospel account of Jesus’ interaction with sisters, Martha and Mary.
At first glance, we may be drawn to that similar trap of comparison—comparing Martha’s and Mary’s responses to Jesus: Martha busying herself with preparations to host Jesus, and Mary sitting at Jesus’ feet, illustrating the need to prioritize spiritual growth over our worldly to-do’s.
So, let’s look closer at how being in relationship with Christ is depicted in Mary’s response. In Mary’s example, we see that his loving-kindness is not contingent on her ability to do the things with which she had been tasked with at the time, but rather, that her being and her presence are simply, enough.
Therefore, we might reflect on how self-compassion is as much a Gospel-informed practice to find rest in God’s grace, as it is a necessary practice for our mental and emotional wellbeing.
I find myself returning time and again in this season to the Luke 10 gospel account of Jesus’ interaction with sisters, Martha and Mary.
At first glance, we may be drawn to that similar trap of comparison—comparing Martha’s and Mary’s responses to Jesus: Martha busying herself with preparations to host Jesus, and Mary sitting at Jesus’ feet, illustrating the need to prioritize spiritual growth over our worldly to-do’s.
So, let’s look closer at how being in relationship with Christ is depicted in Mary’s response. In Mary’s example, we see that his loving-kindness is not contingent on her ability to do the things with which she had been tasked with at the time, but rather, that her being and her presence are simply, enough.
Therefore, we might reflect on how self-compassion is as much a Gospel-informed practice to find rest in God’s grace, as it is a necessary practice for our mental and emotional wellbeing.
WHAT SELF-COMPASSION IS NOT
And yet, when invited to offer ourselves loving-kindness, I have noticed, as Christian women, we can become instantly resistant—conflating the idea of self-compassion with a more extreme notion of unhealthy self-centeredness. While both practices involve the “self,” they could not be more different.
Unhealthy self-centeredness can be a reactive response to over-work, burnout, and fatigue, which, if left unchecked, can evolve into attempting to meet our needs without regard for our own and others’ inherent value. Conversely, self-compassion, rooted in intentionality, is as much a spiritual practice, which would have us look upon ourselves as Christ would his daughters, as it is a psychological process.
Ironically, if we do not engage in the work of self-compassion, if we do not trade that stinging negative self-talk, that sense of “not being enough,” for the same loving-kindness we endeavor to show others, we risk remaining caught in that endless loop of striving, where burnout, resentment, and disconnection are inevitable outcomes.
Self-compassion, wherein we are invited to tend to our personal needs for rest and nurturance, is an organic outcome of truth of our identities as God’s beloved creation. In our admission that “we are enough,” we can experience enhanced connection with the loving Christ and with ourselves. We can more fully embody his loving-kindness in our interactions and relationship with others.
And yet, when invited to offer ourselves loving-kindness, I have noticed, as Christian women, we can become instantly resistant—conflating the idea of self-compassion with a more extreme notion of unhealthy self-centeredness. While both practices involve the “self,” they could not be more different.
Unhealthy self-centeredness can be a reactive response to over-work, burnout, and fatigue, which, if left unchecked, can evolve into attempting to meet our needs without regard for our own and others’ inherent value. Conversely, self-compassion, rooted in intentionality, is as much a spiritual practice, which would have us look upon ourselves as Christ would his daughters, as it is a psychological process.
Ironically, if we do not engage in the work of self-compassion, if we do not trade that stinging negative self-talk, that sense of “not being enough,” for the same loving-kindness we endeavor to show others, we risk remaining caught in that endless loop of striving, where burnout, resentment, and disconnection are inevitable outcomes.
Self-compassion, wherein we are invited to tend to our personal needs for rest and nurturance, is an organic outcome of truth of our identities as God’s beloved creation. In our admission that “we are enough,” we can experience enhanced connection with the loving Christ and with ourselves. We can more fully embody his loving-kindness in our interactions and relationship with others.
CONSIDERING A SELF-COMPASSION PRACTICE
As both a Christian woman and mental health therapist who so often meets women in this place of burnout and endless striving, I think it is important to normalize and highlight that even thinking about incorporating a self-compassion practice can feel risky, abnormal, or even daunting as we exist—living, working, and parenting—in a cultural context, which would have us equate our sense of worthiness in being able to do things just right.
However, we can return again to the Martha and Mary account, and observe that Martha was not inherently wrong in her desire to host Jesus well, but rather, that in Jesus’ presence, she was called, with gentleness and grace, into a new way of being, of receiving his loving-kindness, which “would never be taken from her.”
By even intentionally opening ourselves to the notion that we are enough, and speaking to ourselves in a way that reflects that truth, even in the darkest of times, we can consider the light that is always available to us.
Let’s imagine Christ beckoning to us, his precious daughters, “Come, sit, be, rest, and breathe. You are doing so much. You are allowed to put this down. You are enough.”
As both a Christian woman and mental health therapist who so often meets women in this place of burnout and endless striving, I think it is important to normalize and highlight that even thinking about incorporating a self-compassion practice can feel risky, abnormal, or even daunting as we exist—living, working, and parenting—in a cultural context, which would have us equate our sense of worthiness in being able to do things just right.
However, we can return again to the Martha and Mary account, and observe that Martha was not inherently wrong in her desire to host Jesus well, but rather, that in Jesus’ presence, she was called, with gentleness and grace, into a new way of being, of receiving his loving-kindness, which “would never be taken from her.”
By even intentionally opening ourselves to the notion that we are enough, and speaking to ourselves in a way that reflects that truth, even in the darkest of times, we can consider the light that is always available to us.
Let’s imagine Christ beckoning to us, his precious daughters, “Come, sit, be, rest, and breathe. You are doing so much. You are allowed to put this down. You are enough.”
