Finding Rest in the Struggle- From Burnout to Balance

Reyna Morris
Apr 25
4 min read

“Take your meds, girl” isn’t something you often hear from a Christian friend. But here I am—typing this in the hope that you’ll find comfort, hope, and a safe place to breathe.

I want to help you let go of the shame that can come with mental health struggles—a shame that keeps us isolated and prevents us from building genuine, soul-nourishing relationships. That shame pushes us deeper into hiding and multiplies itself in silence.

I say this not from theory, but from experience.I’m a recovering people-pleaser, a woman who has battled codependency and faced a crisis of faith. I’ve been someone who deeply craved love and approval—so much so that I tried to "be my best self" to earn it.

Story Time...

In 2023, I came face-to-face with my own faith. It was a season of deep disconnection and isolation—even from my husband and kids. It felt like a switch had flipped in my mind. I began dissociating. Depression overwhelmed me, and panic attacks crept in.

I realized I had been on autopilot for over a year.

Motherhood, marriage, and ministry had drained me emotionally, physically, and spiritually.

I had stopped caring for myself—no rest, poor eating, no exercise, no time in God’s presence.

I was chasing community, curating events, and constantly checking my social media stats, desperate to be seen and to feel like I mattered.

Eventually, I burned out.

My body began sending distress signals—eye twitching, aches, insomnia, bloating—but I ignored every one of them. Until one summer day, I had a panic attack while caring for my children. Overwhelmed by intrusive thoughts, I called my husband at work in tears. I couldn’t keep going. I needed help.

It was humbling. I stepped back from ministry and sought outside support for myself and my kids. I felt like I had let everyone down—my family, my community, and myself.

Childhood Roots

Being adopted at 3 ½, I carried the weight of early trauma. I came from a background filled with alcoholism, sexual abuse, codependency, and people-pleasing.

From a young age, I learned to suppress my emotions and pretend I had it all together.

I repeated the toxic patterns I was taught.

Facing my shadow meant entering therapy. Month after month, I unraveled layers of grief—resentment, rage, abandonment, bitterness, fear, and anxiety about the future. I was diagnosed with Complex PTSD (CPTSD).

What is Complex PTSD?

CPTSD often stems from ongoing or repeated trauma in childhood. This can include emotional, physical, or sexual abuse, neglect, bullying, exploitation, trafficking, or forced adoption.

Common symptoms include:

Intense emotions and difficulty managing them
Self-harm or suicidal thoughts
Persistent feelings of shame, guilt, or helplessness
Trouble forming healthy relationships—some avoid them altogether; others get trapped in harmful ones.

A Biblical Thought

Jeremiah, the prophet, was weighed down by a melancholic spirit. He cursed the day he was born and longed to die. Yet, even in those dark emotions, God was present—and through Jeremiah’s vulnerability, millions have encountered the heart of God.

If God used Jeremiah’s emotional limits to speak to generations, He could use yours too.

Don’t underestimate what God can do through your most painful moments.

In The Emotionally Healthy Leader, Pete Scazzero says:

“Our limits may well be the last place we look for God. We want to conquer them, deny them, fight them, break through them. But when we fail to look for God in our limits, we often bypass Him.”

My life began to change the moment I started looking for God in the middle of heartbreak, disappointment, and trauma. That’s when I discovered the truth:

He has been the One sustaining me all along.He restores my soul.He gives me life.And to Him, I give all the glory.

The Healing Journey

Healing is hard, but it’s holy work.

I’m learning to set healthy boundaries with toxic people. I’m leaning into silence and choosing honest conversations—with my family, my husband, and those I serve in ministry. I’m learning to wait.

To grieve. To grow.

We must also be careful with the advice we give to our loved ones—because over 720,000 people die by suicide every year around the world. In my experience and education, many people still lack a true understanding of mental health and inner healing. We don’t always know what someone has lived through, and we must not tell them to “just pray harder” or assume their pain is only a spiritual issue.

Yes, I wholeheartedly believe in God’s healing power and His perfect timing. But I also believe we are called to use wisdom and discernment—especially when it comes to giving people medical advice. Many people in my life had strong opinions about medication and told me I simply needed more faith. What I really needed was compassion, support, and safe space to heal holistically—spirit, soul, and body.

This healing journey has changed how I lead. I no longer hide behind a polished mask. I’m now a vocal advocate for mental health in the church—bridging the gap between emotional well-being and the truth of Jesus.

I help women face their truth, process grief, and build balanced lives. I share my story at Create in Her openly because I know God is using every part of it for His glory.

The world will scream at you—telling you what you need, what you should do, who you should be. But the most sacred thing you can do is pause.Listen to your body.Listen to the Holy Spirit at work in your life.

Ask yourself today:

What does my soul need to get better in this season of your life?

Where am I failing to look for God in my limits?

What lies am I listening to?

Grace & Peace,

Reyna Morris

Author, Life Coach, Founder

Create in Her Ministries

Createinher.org

Createinher.co