It is just over seven months since my family and I said goodbye to our place of ministry. We have since then entered back into the life we once knew, a life in which mostly no one but those within your own four walls relies on you. I have mixed feelings about that, but we are presently not in vocational ministry until the Lord says it's time to deploy again. We are waiting on the Lord for His next assignment.

But for the first time since returning to "normal" life, I caught myself doing something that seemed vaguely reminiscent to a time before ministry. I caught myself saying "no" to something that during my time in vocational ministry I really never said "no" to.

I was sitting at my computer, home from Wednesday night church alone with a bad case of some sort of head cold. It was miserable. And it was then that temptation struck. That old temptation from my time in ministry that gripped me mercilessly — the temptation to work.

As I sat there opening up the laptop, my mind began scanning itself for things to do, things to research, articles to write, people to email, skills to build. I opened up my todo list. I looked it over until my mind said, "Not here." I opened up my inbox and there found about seven emails to either do, delegate, defer, or delete. My mind said, "Not here." I opened up my Evernote and looked over the in-progress articles. I picked one and began to get myself up to speed on it. My mind said, "Not here."

"What is it that's not here!?" I thought. The answer came back immediately — "The thing you need." That was it! The thing I needed was not in any of those places. I did not need to research, write, clear my inbox, or otherwise find things to do. What I needed to do was.... nothing.

Being sick, I incidentally found myself in solitude. And that is what I needed. I needed a "benevolent detachment" as John Eldridge calls it. And it was there! I had it! And yet, I was trying to fill the void with work.

Productivity processes were an immense and necessary part of my time in ministry. I was literally tri-vocational. I was supported some by ministry, some by working a per diem job, and some by a small business. No single one of those things could provide for us entirely, so I had to do them all. I would have been lost without mastering productivity tools and methodologies. So I did. I became so skilled at getting everything done on time and with such great attention to detail that people actually asked me to teach them my method. A woman at church called me a "machine." One coworker at the surgical center said, "He's the busiest man I've ever seen." And I used all of my busy-ness for the Lord. I really did!

But here's the problem: I became so good at winning at productivity that I became addicted to it.

On any given day, I could begin with legitimate time with God, followed by study for preaching, then fill a shift at the surgical center, come home and fill customer orders, spend time with family, study more, repair something, complete my evening routine, and go to bed. It wasn't always in that order, and bedtime was rarely early, but everything always got done. My spiritual life did not suffer. My relationships with my family did not suffer. My preaching or ministry did not suffer. I did.

If it didn't all get done, my income would dry up, my spiritual life would be in shambles, my preaching and pastoring would be lousy, and my family wouldn't know me. Caring for all of those things leaves only one breaking point — my health. I had to come to grips with the fact that while Tom was good at getting all of the important things done in life with attention to detail, all of that stops if there is no more Tom.

Men who do what I did are often called ministry workaholics. Some do it for personal glory or as some sort of Baptist version of self-flagellation, or both. But many workaholics are simply addicted to feeling fulfilled. It's not all that different from a gambler putting coins in a slot machine. He can't stop because perhaps the next one he will hit it big. For the workaholic, the next task is the one where he might finally feel fulfilled for the day/week/month/year... lifetime. It never stops. He's chasing a phantom.

It's a common misconception that to be a ministry workaholic means one is not trusting the Lord but rather in their own efforts. No! Not at all! I can tell you of a certainty that I was trusting the Lord for the results of our ministry. I just loved planning and doing. I was trusting the Lord for our finances but instead of giving us cash, he gave me jobs. And I loved doing them. I loved the feeling of switching gears from one mode to the next several times per day. I was good at it. The more chaos there was, the better I got.

But at a certain point I had to realize that a good work ethic can still exist without workaholism. I had to understand that I can still feel a sense of accomplishment without gorging myself on checked-off to do items. Had the Lord not led us, yea, compelled us to move on, I would have continued working myself into oblivion. I would have been the guy still holding down the proverbial trigger long after the magazine is empty. I just felt right at home working, working, and working.

I won't lie to you and say that I am completely "sober" now from my workaholism. I do still sometimes fall off the wagon, so to speak. But it's getting easier to tell myself and others "no." I am sometimes afraid of feeling lazy for declining to do a project or fill a role at someone's request. And maybe the people in my life that didn't know me before might think I am lazy. That's a necessary risk, I suppose. It may be a long a time before I establish some sort of equilibrium because tasks are necessary and yet to me they are like heroin to an addict. As soon as I start doing them I get amped up and don't want to stop.

The solution isn't to become a couch potato in the name of my personal well-being. That's ridiculous. Work is both necessary and good. But part of taking care of this temple of mine, must include letting my mind and body rest when needed. And there is no guilt in that.