I sat in my office surrounded by the ever-present piles of papers and stacks of files. I was the president of a growing new company and we had just reached a potential $1,000,000 in sales, up from $100,000 the previous year. This was great news, but to me it did not symbolize success. In my mind I was in a dreary and depressing POW camp. "Get me out of here!" I wanted to scream.

Every simple detail of a normal day had become overwhelming. I learned to cope by functioning as a machine. But this particular April afternoon I could not seem to move the crank. An important client waited impatiently on the other end of the telephone for the name, information and address of our showroom. I could not answer his questions. I could not remember where to find the information. "What shall I do?" I wondered. "What can I do?" How I concluded the conversation I do not remember.

A few days after this experience, which had become all too common, I realized I could no longer "gut it out." Reluctantly I admitted, "This is enough! I can't keep going. Something has to give!" I made an uncharacteristic decision to admit my need and see a counselor.

Gradually, I began to understand that my dilemma was called burnout and it was the result of my workaholic behavior. Sixty, seventy or eighty-hour work weeks were not uncommon. I could not permit myself to say "no" to a new job or client. Sometimes I was shocked when I realized I had skipped the last few meals. I felt propelled to keep working and doing.

Once, in an effort to relieve the many physical symptoms of burnout and give myself some time to think, I decided to take the month off. Incredibly, I ended up working 40 hours a week during that time. Perhaps it helped to open my eyes to the reality of my need.

When I dug past the burnout and the workaholism, I discovered a defective pattern of misconceptions. I believed the lie that I must make all things right for my family, my clients, my business associates and anyone else who came across my whirlwind path. I believed that I must appear perfect so that others would be attracted to my God. I believed that it was my responsibility to see that my husband was always happy, healthy and satisfied with life. "Peace at any cost" and "Don't rock the boat" were my unspoken mottoes. I was angry at not being permitted to be the person I thought God wanted me to be. All my time and energy was involved in fixing life so it would work for other people. The "me" God created was lost in the shuffle.

Many days I felt as if I wanted to run away and hide. Then one night a light bulb blinked on in my mind. I realized that it was not escape from my life or relationships that I wanted, but a changed pattern of thinking and behaving within my life and relationships. I longed to know if it would be all right with God if I decided to change my work and service habits, slow down and relax. I wondered if I could still be a productive and valuable person if I adjusted my work schedule and stopped trying to do and make everything just right.

When I acknowledged the truth about my predicament, I was free to admit my need to God. I prayed, "God, I have been trying to do and be what I cannot without you. To erase the pain I have used my own detrimental ways of coping. I admit this has not worked. Please help me."

It is a process and not always easy. Sometimes I grab what feels like huge bundles  of courage in order to combat the fear and uncomfortable feelings I have in breaking from the old familiar system. Then other times I find only a half-full thimble of courage. Either way, God helps me. He has promised to help and he does. I am no longer a prisoner, trapped in the POW camp of my mind. I live differently now. God restored my health and set me free. (Isaiah 38:16-19).