A Four-Part Fable on the Cost of a Burnt-Out Soul –Ā
In our walk of faith, we are often told to ‘burn out for the Lord.’ And so, we wear our exhaustion like a badge of honour, believing that the more we neglect ourselves, the more we are sacrificing for the Kingdom. But what if the greatest gift we can give God, and our loved ones is a well-tended life?
In this four-part fable, The Keeper of the Lighthouse, we follow the journey of Elias. He is a man who loves God deeply but has forgotten how to honour the ‘temple’ he was given to steward. Through his story, we explore the thin line between zeal and neglect, the ripple effect of our health on those we love, and the beautiful, quiet grace that is found in the Sabbath of the soul.
Whether you are currently thriving or feeling like your own ‘wick’ is beginning to char, I invite you to walk with Elias and rediscover the rhythm of a well-watered life.
Ā A story about the light we shine and the lives we leave in the dark.
We are called to be the light of the world, but what happens when the keeper of the light forgets to tend to his own flame? Join Elias at North Star Point in this four-part series as he discovers that being a ‘living sacrifice’ isn’t about burning out for God, but about the holy stewardship of the body, the heart, and the home. A story of faith, the high cost of careless living, and the grace that meets us in the stillness, when we understand self-care.
The New Light – Keeper of the Lighthouse
The salt spray had a way of finding every crack in the stone, much like the regrets of Eliasās former life. For years, he had been a man adrift, a ship broken against the very rocks he now stood upon. But that was before the Great Rescue. Now, Elias was the Keeper of the North Star Point, and he served with the feverish hunger of a man who had been given a second breath.
The lighthouse lens was a massive, intricate crown of glass. Elias polished it until his arms ached and his fingers went numb in the biting Atlantic chill.
“For Him,” he whispered, his breath blooming in a white cloud against the glass. “Every spark, every beam. I will not let a single soul hit the rocks as I did.”
He had been at it since three in the morning. His stomach growledāa sharp, hollow reminder that he had skipped dinner the night before to finish repairing the prayer benches in the village chapel. He brushed the sensation away as if it were a persistent fly. The spirit is willing, he reminded himself, though his vision blurred slightly at the edges.
“Elias?”
The voice was soft, muffled by the heavy iron door of the lantern room. Martha, his wife, stood in the doorway, a woollen shawl wrapped tight against her chin. In her hands was a bowl of steaming porridge, the scent of cinnamon momentarily cutting through the sharp smell of whale oil and salt.
Zeal vs. Stewardship
“You didnāt come down for breakfast,” she said, her eyes searching his face. There was a shadow in those eyes, a look of quiet longing that Elias was too busy to decode. “And you haven’t slept since the moon was high.”
“The light doesn’t sleep, Martha,” Elias replied, his voice raspy but upbeat. He didn’t look at her; he was focused on a tiny smudge on the southern pane. “The Lord has given me this watch. How can I rest when there is so much to be done? My strength is in Him.”
Martha stepped closer, her boots clicking softly on the metal floor. “He also gave you a body, Elias. And He gave me a husband. But I feel like I am talking to a ghost who is simply haunting this tower.”
Elias chuckled, though it ended in a dry cough. “You worry too much. Iāve never felt more alive! I am a living sacrifice.”
He didn’t notice the way Martha looked at the porridge, then at his trembling hands, before turning away. He didn’t see the tear that mirrored the North Star’s light before it fell. He only saw the glass. He only saw the work. He was so busy keeping the flame for the world that he failed to notice his own wick was beginning to char.
Donāt you realise that your body is the temple of the Holy Spirit, who lives in youā¦ So you must honor God with your body. – 1 Corinthians 6:19-20
Ā Quick debrief:
- The Metaphor: The lighthouse is his faith, but the “soot” and “smudge” represent the neglect of his own well-being.
- The Conflict: It establishes that his intentions are holy (“For Him”), which makes the “careless living” much more subtle and dangerous.
- The Impact: We see Marthaās loneliness immediately. His neglect of himself is already becoming a neglect of her.
Questions for reflection:
- Have you ever felt like you were doing ‘Godās work’ at the expense of ‘Godās temple?
- When does your passion for service cross the line into the pride of self-neglect?
- What is one physical limit youāve been ignoring lately in the name of being ‘busy’ for the right reasons?
Share your take on this story in comment box beloow. š
Watch out for Part 2…COMING SOON!
Here are some worth-reading articles while you wait: