For the past 10 years, Christy Trantina, adult faith formation director of St. Joseph Church in Conway, has loved her job. She enjoyed using her spiritual gifts, like administration and teaching, to help those around her increase their faith.
It was where God wanted her to be — until it wasn’t.
Last year, she felt a “slow heaviness building.” After a year of spiritual discernment, Trantina announced she would leave her job in April.
“I don’t like to use the word burnout. But I keep telling people I lost my fire. I think that’s the textbook definition of burnout,” she said. “Part of me was trying to discern is this burnout or the Lord saying is it time to move to the next thing?”
Trantina learned it can be both.
Anyone is susceptible to having their life balance get out of whack and burnout even if they love what they do, whether it’s a highly demanding job or juggling a packed schedule in retirement.
According to the 2024 American Psychological Association’s annual Work in America survey, one in three workers said they did not have enough work flexibility to maintain a proper work/personal life balance. The survey also stated that 67 percent of workers reported experiencing at least one symptom of workplace burnout, like low energy or lack of motivation, within a month.
Lay Catholics in Arkansas shared stories of handling burnout and ways they’ve turned to their spirituality for help or, sometimes, to walk away.
Support and silence
Lindsey Stehle, 30, couldn’t hold back her tears when describing her move from her first education job in public schools to being a kindergarten teacher at St. Theresa School in Little Rock.
“Moving from public school to Catholic school I can say definitely has increased my faith. I feel this is where God wants me,” she said. “I experienced hurt in the public school.”
Stehle worked as a paraprofessional and helped substitute teach.
“I feel like I wasn’t compensated fairly. I definitely had a lower self-esteem. I feel like I watched my bank account all the time, making sure I could be able to pay my bills and not have to ask for help,” she said.
Stehle, a parishioner at Christ the King Church in Little Rock, admits a Catholic school isn’t a cure-all for experiencing burnout, as teaching will always be a demanding job. According to a Pew Research Center survey released in April, 77 percent of teachers in the United States said their job was frequently stressful, and 68 percent called it “overwhelming.”
“I feel like we do a lot in such a little time span,” she said. “Everything from teaching to discipline to reinforcing the faith.”
She explained that the difference is being able to talk openly with fellow teachers for support, making time for prayer and knowing she could say no to more responsibility if needed.
“It means the world,” she said, having a supportive work environment. “I do feel appreciated here. I feel welcomed. I feel like the Holy Spirit worked his magic. I prayed for this job for a good while.”
Deacon Jason Pohlmeier has been principal at St. Joseph School for 11 years and a deacon since 2022. Those responsibilities are balanced with his family life as a husband and father to seven children, ages 3 to 18.
As a first-time principal 16 years ago, he received advice from principal Jan Cash, who spent 45 years as a teacher and later principal at Our Lady of Fatima School in Benton before she died in 2022.
“She said, ‘Here’s my piece of advice: pick a time on the clock and go home. The work will never be finished. If you try to be finished, you’ll never be finished and never go home,’” Pohlmeier said. “I’ve taken that to heart, and I’ve done that.”
It’s a tough balance for teachers who typically plan lessons and grades after hours because the day is too full of other responsibilities. When stress levels are high for his staff, he’ll cancel a meeting or suggest meeting up for dinner as a team.
“I think the biggest thing that contributes to teacher burnout today is we live in a world where we always have to be on-call all the time. There’s pressure to give your cell phone to parents to text you, which I tell teachers not to do,” he said. “I do not check email at home. I disable notifications on my phone. I encourage teachers to do that. There’s this feeling of constantly being on-call, available around the clock when they need something and you have to actively work against that. … I’ve had some teachers who left the school because of that struggle throughout the years. I think everybody feels it, as far as burnout goes.”
For himself, balancing his family, faith and work means getting out in nature. His family are avid hikers, but he takes personal days to hike by himself.
“There’s a long history in the Church about silence and what silence really means. It’s something more than a lack of sound. There is a description in Scripture about the Holy Spirit as the ‘breath of God,’ translated as spirit. Silence is about experiencing the breath of God that lies behind everything that happens,” he said. “Hiking in the woods by yourself for several hours is a mini-retreat. I’ll realize I have not said a word for eight hours. The only sounds are wind, water, animals and crunching sticks.”
Closing a door
Trantina, married with three adult children and one grandchild, will quickly admit she has “loved every day” of the job she is now leaving. From the start, she set boundaries that she’d work 40 hours a week. If a faith formation event fell on the weekend, she’d take off or adjust her hours during the week.
“I am a wife and a mother first. That’s my primary vocation,” she said. “My job at St. Joseph is what I do. But it’s not my primary identity. My job had to come second. I’m so thankful to my leaders at the parish who have always agreed with that. I don’t remember what pastor it was in the past, but I remember they’d say, ‘If your family stuff is not in proper order at home, you’re not an effective employee here.’”
About a year ago, Trantina was still happy but could “feel a shift in my spirit” and mentioned it during her employee evaluation. Then came the work of discernment with a spiritual director, a Catholic layperson or a religious, who has gone through training to help others grow in intimacy with Christ and listen for his voice.
“One of the things that has dawned on me is working in ministry is a season, not a career. I had a full career before I came here. This has been a beautiful season for me,” she said. “Sometimes people do mistake burnout for the Lord moving you. Or does the Lord use burnout to move people? You might feel it’s burnout, but it might be the Lord saying, ‘We’re done here.’ This chapter of the book of my life is over, and it’s time to write a new chapter.”
While God created us to live an abundant life, it has to come with balance. And just like walking away from something can be restorative, the spirit can also lead someone to say no, even to something good, explained Father Jeff Hebert, diocesan vocations director.
“No is a complete sentence. No is not actually a bad thing for a Christian to say. If you’re being invited to participate in a ministry or offer your service in ministry, no is a legitimate answer. Guilt usually gets people in trouble. Sometimes, priests make it hard to say no. I want everyone to know that’s not fair,” he said. “If you want to make God part of that decision, you have to really be honest with yourself, ‘What is it you want? What are my responsibilities?’ You can’t sacrifice responsibilities to your family to take care of the parish.”
Trantina said that anyone feeling burned out and confused about their next steps should take it to the Lord in prayer and with a spiritual director.
“I think that’s one of those things we’re not meant to do on our own. I think it does take an outside perspective. Either a solid prayer group, pastor, someone to journey with them and help them arrive at the tough decision,” she said.
