Youth Sunday (Ava Hutchings)
Good morning! My name is Ava Hutchings, and I am the student connector of our youth group which means I represent the youth group on church and youth council. I also help lead our other student connectors and on Sunday nights I am a senior at McKeel Academy of Technology who is committed to YHC in North Georgia for soccer and lacrosse. I’d like us to do something together. If you would, settle down for a moment. Uncross your legs, rest your hands at your side, and take a deep breath. I’d like us to do a quick self-check-in. How are you feeling this morning? Are you tired? Do you feel heavy or anxious about what’s ahead this week? Or maybe you woke up feeling energized, without a weight on your shoulders. As students, many of us feel the pressure to achieve high in school, balance extracurricular activities, and still spend time with our families, friends, and even our pets. I can only imagine how much heavier that responsibility can feel for adults—balancing your own responsibilities while also caring for your children and your families. Today, the youth and I wanted to dive deeper into that feeling of heaviness. We want to talk about something that many people don’t always admit in church. Burnout. Because sometimes the exhaustion we feel in our faith doesn’t come from following God. Sometimes it comes from trying to earn something He already gave us.
Would you pray with me?
Lord, in this moment we slow down and step away from the noise, the pressure, and everything waiting for us outside these walls. We come to you exactly how we are because you see us. You see the exhaustion we carry, the stress we don’t always talk about, and the weight we’ve been trying to handle on our own. Some of us are physically tired, some mentally overwhelmed, and some spiritually worn down. Lord, help remind us that we don’t have to earn Your love. We don’t have to prove ourselves to You. You have already chosen us. You have already called us enough. Release the pressure we’ve placed on ourselves and fill the empty places in our hearts. Bring us peace where there is anxiety and strength where there is weakness. As we continue today, open our hearts to hear Your voice—not the voice of pressure or fear, but Your voice of truth, grace, and love. Amen.
I ask you these deep questions this morning because burnout is real, no matter what age you are.
I was born into the church. My grandfather was a pastor, and faith has been part of my life for as long as I can remember—yet I’ve experienced burnout in my faith.
I have a wonderful family who supports me and has given me every opportunity to succeed—yet I’ve experienced burnout. I’m blessed to play the sports I love—yet I’ve
been burned out from both. I’ve even had incredible therapists who have guided me through life—yet I’ve still felt burned out from life itself. Through all of this, I’m standing here just like you. And just like you… I’m tired.
Before we fully understand Isaiah 40:28–31, it helps to understand who Isaiah was as a person. Isaiah was a prophet in the Old Testament, who lived in a season where the people of Israel were spiritually exhausted, fearful, and uncertain about their future. They had faced war, loss, and eventually exile. Everything they once relied on—even their identity as a nation—felt like it was falling apart. Isaiah himself was not someone who lived an easy or comfortable life. When God called him in Isaiah 6, he responded with the famous words, “Here I am. Send me.” He was sent to speak truth to people who often didn’t want to listen. About 2,700 years ago around 740-700 BC Isaiah was in Judah or modern-day Israel and Palestine. He speaks in chapter 40; he is not speaking as someone who doesn’t understand hardship. He is speaking as someone who has seen exhaustion—both in himself and in the people around him. He knows what it looks like to feel worn down, discouraged, and tired of waiting on God. That’s what makes Isaiah 40:28–31 so powerful.
Isaiah 40:28–31 speaks directly to the experience of burnout and reminds us how to trust God through it. Isaiah begins by reminding the people of three important truths: God never grows tired, God gives strength to the weary, and those who wait on the Lord
will renew their strength. Isaiah even says that ‘even youths will faint and be weary.’ This shows that exhaustion is not something only adults experience. Even young people—students, athletes, and children—can grow tired and overwhelmed. But the passage does not stop there. Verse 29 explains that God gives power to those who feel faint and strength to those who feel like they have none left. In other words, when our own strength runs out, God’s strength begins. However, Isaiah also reminds us that this renewed strength comes to those who wait on the Lord. Waiting does not mean doing nothing. Instead, it means trusting God’s timing rather than forcing our own plans. In Methodism, this idea connects closely with the belief in God’s grace. Faith is not about constantly working to earn God’s approval. Instead, faith is about receiving God’s grace and allowing Him to strengthen us when we are weary.
I experienced this kind of burnout at a young age. From the end of eighth grade through my freshman year, I had a total of three knee surgeries. For someone who had spent over a decade playing soccer—the sport I loved more than anything—this meant being taken completely out of the game. During that time, I was forced to wait. Not just waiting for my body to heal but waiting while other people helped me do the things I couldn’t do on my own while I was on crutches. Simple things in daily life suddenly became difficult. In total, I waited about four years before I was finally back at full strength—that’s around 1,460 days of waiting.
And during that time, I started to understand what Isaiah meant when he talked about waiting. When I found out that I had over-healed and needed a second surgery, I felt completely exhausted. I had gone through all that physical therapy just to learn that part of what was holding me back was myself—I had rushed the process. But looking back now, I can see something I didn’t always see then. God never grew tired of me.
Even when I was frustrated. Even when I complained. Even when I didn’t understand what he was doing. Scripture describes God as eternal—existing beyond time itself. He is not measured by years or days the way we are. He is not bound by time. He is the beginning and the end, the One who was before anything existed and will remain after everything else fades. The same God who shaped the universe is the same God who sees us in our weakest moments. The same God who holds galaxies together is the same God who holds us together when we feel like we are falling apart. Life can be extremely difficult between work, school, and holidays. It seems to be endless. It’s frustrating when we ask God for something and it seems like he is ignoring us. “Why is this happening again?” How is God trying to teach us to slow down if we can’t catch a break? So when I had my second surgery, I tried to do things differently. I want to say I did everything right. But just when I had my first great game—when I finally felt like my old self again—I got hurt once more and needed another surgery. At that point, many people told me to give up soccer. Some told me it was time to move on and try something new. And honestly, for a moment, I believed them. But I also remembered something the three-year-old version of me once said: “I love soccer.” So, I kept going. But this time, I did things differently. I stopped trying to do too much. I started listening to my body. I researched new therapies. I trusted the process.
I even tried a new sport—lacrosse. And now, when I look back at the people who told me to stop playing, I can say something I couldn’t have said back then. Today, I’m a dual-sport Division II athlete who has overcome three knee surgeries. And yes—that’s something I’m proud of. But for a long time, I kept asking God, “Why would You make me wait four years? Why would you take me out of the sport I love?” And now I see it a little differently. God was never absent in that waiting; he was teaching me not to give up. Not to rush the process. But to trust that His timing was not against me—it was for me. He was with me in every setback, every surgery, every moment of doubt.
He wasn’t trying to take soccer from me—He was teaching me how to trust Him in the waiting. He wanted me to learn how to trust Him while I waited for his plan.
As we come to a close today, I want to leave you with a challenge—something simple, but powerful. When you walk out of here, don’t just go back to the same routine without thinking about what’s weighing you down. Take a moment to recognize where you are.
Be honest with yourself: Am I tired? Am I carrying something God never asked me to carry? And if the answer is yes, then here are your next steps:
First, recognize that you’re tired—without shame. Even Isaiah reminds us that even youths grow weary. You are not weak for feeling this way. You are human.
Second, release what God didn’t give you. The pressure to be perfect, to have it all together, to constantly perform—that is not from Him. Let it go.
Third, rest without guilt. Rest is not laziness. Rest is obedience. God created rest for you, not as a reward, but as a necessity.
And finally, rely on God while you wait. Because waiting is hard. Waiting feels slow. How to slow down what does it look like in busyness
Waiting can feel like nothing is happening—but God is working in the waiting. Today, as we move into communion, we invite you to come to the alter and kneel and if you want to light a candle in prayers for yourself or someone else who is experiencing burnout and to ask God to be with you in the waiting periods of life. Let this be a moment where you don’t just remember God—but where you let Him restore you. Let this be the moment where your fire begins again.
Lord, we come before You carry an ache in our souls. You see our emptiness, Lord—you know how tired we truly are. We ask that You heal what is hurting within us and restore the strength we have lost. Relight the flame inside us that once burned for You. Lord, we are Your people, and You are our loving Father. We confess that we have allowed our spirits to grow weary and our fire to grow dim. Teach us to care for the flame You placed within us, and help us to recognize our need for rest, even when we resist it. Let us be on your timing not our own, for we do not know the present, only you lord. Amen.