When Righteousness Wears You Out

It wasn’t rebellion that burned me out.
It was obedience.

I was doing everything “right.”
Praying. Fasting. Memorizing. Serving.
Never missing church. Never saying no.

If there was a checklist for spiritual maturity, I had every box marked — twice.
And yet, the more I did, the emptier I felt.

I didn’t know it at the time, but I wasn’t living the Christian life.
I was performing the Christian role.
And like every role that depends on me holding the mask in place, eventually my arms got tired.

The weight wasn’t from sin.
It was from “righteousness.”
At least, my version of it.

See, I thought righteousness was about proving my worth to God — staying spotless, always producing, never failing.
But the gospel I lived by was closer to a corporate ladder than a cross.
Climb higher. Work harder. Don’t slip.

And when you start thinking God is your boss, burnout is inevitable.

Jesus once said to the religious leaders:

“For they bind heavy burdens and grievous to be borne, and lay them on men’s shoulders; but they themselves will not move them with one of their fingers.”
(Matthew 23:4)

I knew those leaders.
I had been one.
Worse, I had been my own Pharisee — binding heavy burdens on my own back and calling it faithfulness.

Then I heard Him again, not in rebuke but in invitation:

“Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.
Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me; for I am meek and lowly in heart: and ye shall find rest unto your souls.
For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.”
(Matthew 11:28–30)

The problem wasn’t righteousness.
It was my definition of it.
I was trying to become righteous by doing more, instead of living from righteousness already given to me in Christ.

Paul put it bluntly to the Galatians:

“Are ye so foolish? having begun in the Spirit, are ye now made perfect by the flesh?”
(Galatians 3:3)

That was me — saved by grace, sustained by hustle.
But grace doesn’t need my hustle.
It needs my surrender.

Now, I still pursue righteousness.
But it’s not a ladder I’m climbing.
It’s fruit from abiding.
And fruit grows in rest, not in frantic motion.

So if you’re tired from sin, you need repentance.
But if you’re tired from righteousness, you need Jesus.
Not the checklist version. Not the boss version.
The Shepherd who restores your soul.

If that’s where you are, you’re not alone. Rest isn’t failure. It’s faith.

📖 Why I Built Bare Altar

This is a place for the unhidden.

There was a time I thought God would show up if I just did enough.

So I did what I thought I was supposed to do. I prayed long. I fasted weekly. I read chapters of Proverbs and Acts like they were keys to the kingdom. I knocked doors. I skipped sleep. I stayed busy. And when it didn’t work—when God didn’t “show up” like I’d been taught He would—I assumed I had failed.

So I tried harder. And when that didn’t work either, I burned out. Not just emotionally. Spiritually. At the time, I wouldn’t have said it that way. I just felt tired, confused, and honestly—angry.

What Broke

Eventually the whole thing collapsed. My performance-based version of faith didn’t hold. Not because I didn’t care. I cared too much. That’s what broke me.

But underneath all the frustration, I started to see something:
I was following a system, not a Savior.

I had built an altar out of effort—and expected God to come down like fire.
But what I needed was to come to His altar. Bare. Honest. Unhidden.

Why This Blog Exists

Bare Altar is where I bring what’s real. Not what looks good.
It’s not a platform. It’s not a performance. It’s not a church growth strategy.

It’s a place to wrestle with Scripture, wrestle with the past, and let God search me—not just correct me.

“The word of God is quick, and powerful… a discerner of the thoughts and intents of the heart.”
(Hebrews 4:12)

I used to quote that verse like it was aimed at others.
Now I know—I was the one in view the whole time.

I wasn’t just broken. I was exposed.
And the only thing that changed me wasn’t a better method—it was surrender.

What You’ll Find Here

I write about:

• Scripture—without the filters and performance I used to bring

• Spiritual burnout and rebuilding

• What I’ve learned from collapse—and what I’m still learning

Sometimes I’ll reflect on Job. Or Paul. Or Moses. Or Jesus. Other times I’ll share what broke me. What I misunderstood. And what God is still showing me.

I’m not here to convince anyone. I’m just telling the truth as I’ve lived it.

If You’re Still Here…

You might be someone who’s felt it too:
The burnout. The pressure. The guilt that somehow, even when you’re doing everything right—it still feels like something’s off.

If that’s you, I hope this place helps you feel seen. Not because I have answers, but because I’ve sat in the fire too.

And I’ve learned something in that fire:
You don’t bring offerings to impress God.
You bring them to be changed.