Acts of the Apostles: You Can’t Bring Me Down

Before Paul arrived on the shores of Malta, his journey had already been long, difficult, and filled with divine appointments. In Acts 25, he stood trial before Festus, the Roman governor, and later before King Agrippa. Though innocent, Paul was kept in prison for two years as a political prisoner to appease the people. Instead of releasing him, the authorities decided to send him to Rome, as Paul had appealed to Caesar.

In Acts 26, Paul testified to Agrippa about his transformation from a persecutor of Christians to a follower of Christ. He recounted his experience on the road to Damascus, unashamedly proclaiming the gospel to kings and rulers. Agrippa famously asked, “Do you think you can persuade me to become a Christian so quickly?” But Paul’s concern was not personal freedom—it was faithfulness to God’s call to share the good news.

Then came Acts 27—a dramatic tale of storms and survival. As Paul journeyed by sea, a violent storm engulfed the ship. Despite his warnings, the crew set sail into danger. After two weeks of being tossed at sea, the vessel finally ran aground. Though the ship was lost, all 276 people on board survived, just as Paul had said they would. That’s where the story in Acts 28 picks up—with cold, weary survivors stepping onto unfamiliar ground.

Acts 28:1 - 10

A Cold Welcome Made Warm
Once safe on land, the group discovered they had landed on the island of Malta—a small island about 60 miles south of Sicily. With no rivers, the island relied on rain and springs for water. Today, the traditional site of the shipwreck is called St. Paul’s Bay.

As the survivors stood on the shore, cold, wet, and exhausted, something unexpected happened. The people of the island welcomed them with unusual kindness. These islanders, described in the original Greek as barbaros, were not Greek-speaking and would have been considered outsiders by many. But Luke makes it clear: they were anything but barbaric. They built a fire and welcomed these strangers, showing hospitality that exceeded expectations.

It’s a reminder that sometimes, God uses people we don’t expect to bless and care for His children. The warmth of the fire on that rainy day reflected the kindness of individuals that were ready to serve—even if they didn’t yet know the One who truly sent Paul.

Once Bitten
As they built the fire, Paul gathered sticks. He didn’t delegate or hold back—he helped, even after everything he had been through. As he placed the wood on the flames, a poisonous snake, stiff from the cold, latched onto his hand. Immediately, the islanders jumped to conclusions.
“This man must be a murderer,” they said. “Though he escaped the sea, Justice will not permit him to live.”

The people believed in divine retribution. They assumed that though Paul had survived the storm, fate had caught up with him. The goddess Justice, they thought, would now exact her punishment. They waited for Paul to swell up or drop dead.

But he didn’t.

He calmly shook the snake off into the fire and continued on, completely unharmed. As time passed and nothing happened, the same people who assumed he was a murderer changed their minds and declared him a god.

It’s almost humorous—one moment condemned, the next exalted. Yet Paul didn’t flinch. He didn’t scold them or bask in their praise. He remained faithful to God amid this chaos. He had no interest in convincing them of his innocence or his divinity. His focus was always fixed on something higher.

Ministry on Malta
Nearby, there was a man named Publius, the chief official of the island. This man welcomed Paul and the others into his estate and cared for them for three days. During the visit, Paul learned that Publius’s father was sick with fever and dysentery—likely a local illness caused by bacteria in goat’s milk, known even today as “Malta fever.”

Paul did what he always did when he encountered need: he prayed. He laid hands on the man and healed him.

Word of this healing spread across the island. Soon, people were coming from every direction to be healed. God was now using the man who had just survived a shipwreck and a snakebite to bring healing to others. And Paul didn’t hesitate. He didn’t say, “I need a break” or “I’ve been through enough.” He served, once again.

By the time they were ready to set sail, the people of Malta honored Paul and his companions, providing them with everything they needed for the remainder of the journey.

The Question of Burnout
Reading through this part of Acts, one can’t help but marvel at Paul’s strength. The man never stopped. He never turned inward. He never asked for pity. Instead, he kept pouring himself out.
And that raises a question we often hear in the church today: Can Christians who are faithfully serving the Lord burn out?

The idea of burnout is real. Many faithful servants of Christ have felt it. I’ve felt it. There are times when I’ve been emotionally spent and physically exhausted. I’ve given so much, and I wonder if there’s anything left to give.

But when we look at Paul—beaten, imprisoned, shipwrecked, snake-bitten-we must ask: Did he ever experience burnout?

2 Corinthians 11:23-29
Paul shares an overwhelming list of his hardships, including numerous beatings, multiple shipwrecks, hunger, cold, sleepless nights, dangers from robbers and false brothers, and the daily burden of caring for the churches. If anyone had a right to say, “I’m done,” it was Paul. But he didn’t. He kept going. And not just going, he kept serving with joy.

So what was his secret? What kept him from falling into despair or quitting altogether?

Christ, the Source of Strength
Paul wrote in Philippians 4:13, “I can do everything through Christ, who gives me strength.” I know this is an often-overused quote to inspire people to do things they would never do.  It’s sometimes viewed as a quote to encourage you to muster up enough faith in Jesus and yourself to accomplish something seemingly accomplishable.  But this isn’t a cute slogan or a bumper-sticker phrase. It was Paul’s reality. He wasn’t running on his power; he knew what it felt like to be hungry, homeless, and in need. He also knew what it felt like to have all of his needs met, but he wasn’t depending on those things to determine his life and ministry; he was operating in the power of the Holy Spirit.

He knew full well that, left to himself, he wouldn’t last. But Christ was his source. Christ was his strength. Paul didn’t persevere because he was stronger than others—he persevered because he was dependent on God.

There’s a quote from Oswald Chambers that hits home: “It is impossible to get exhausted in work for God. We get exhausted because we try to do God’s work in our own way.”

When I look back on times when I felt burned out, I can usually trace it to one thing: I was relying too heavily on my strength. I wasn’t asking God to carry the load—I was shouldering it alone. And that’s not how it’s supposed to be.

Does this mean we’ll never feel tired or weary? Not at all. Ministry is hard. Serving others is demanding and exhausting. But there’s a difference between physical fatigue and spiritual burnout. One requires rest; the other requires realignment with God.

So, in our exhaustion and potential burnout, God sometimes leads us out of one ministry and into another. That doesn’t mean we’ve failed. It means we’re following His call. I remember a time when I knew it was time to transition out of youth ministry. I loved the students. I was passionate about the work. But God was calling me into a new season of ministry. I had faithfully served teenagers for nearly fifteen years, and even though I was tired, I wasn’t quitting; I was shifting.
 
We Never Retire from Faithfulness
We may change roles, but we never retire from serving God. There’s no such thing as a retirement from faithful service to God. We’re always called to represent Christ, to serve others, and to be a light in the world no matter how young OR old.

Paul understood this. That’s why, even when he had every reason to step back, he stepped up. Even when he was the one who needed care, he was caring for others.

And so we return to those beautiful words he wrote to the church in 2 Corinthians 12:10: “That’s why I take pleasure in my weaknesses, and in the insults, hardships, persecutions, and troubles that I suffer for Christ. For when I am weak, then I am strong.”

That’s the contradiction of the Christian life. Strength doesn’t come from pushing harder. It comes from leaning deeper—deeper into Christ, deeper into grace, deeper into dependence on the Holy Spirit.

Application Points

1. Keep Serving, Even in the Storm
   Paul’s ministry in Malta didn’t begin in comfort—it began in chaos. He had just survived a violent shipwreck, was drenched and cold, and had every reason to rest, retreat, or at least wait for someone else to lead. But Paul didn’t wait for ideal conditions to step into ministry.
   
   This reminds us that God often calls us to serve in the storm, not after it. We tend to put ministry on hold until life feels settled—until the schedule clears up, the crisis passes, or we “feel ready.” However, the truth is that some of the most impactful ministry moments occur while we’re still walking through our struggles. Like Paul, we are called to serve others even when we ourselves are tired, bruised, or uncertain. The storm doesn’t disqualify you from serving—it often prepares you for it.
   
   
2. Depend on God’s Strength, Not Your Own
   ​If Paul had tried to live out his calling in his strength, he would have burned out after the first beating or prison sentence. But he didn’t. Paul understood that his stamina didn’t come from willpower or natural endurance—it came from Christ.
   
   Many of us burn out because we try to do the work of God without the strength of the Holy Spirit. We take on ministry tasks, leadership roles, family burdens, and church obligations—and carry them as if it all depends on us. It doesn’t. When we try to carry everything ourselves, we’re not being faithful—we’re being prideful. We forget that God never asked us to be self-sufficient. He asked us to surrender.
   
   Your ability to serve faithfully for the long haul isn’t about how strong you are—it’s about how connected you are to the source of strength. When we lean fully on Jesus, we find a surplus of endurance we didn’t know existed. His strength is made perfect in our weakness. And that’s where real power lies.
   
   
3. Be Open to Divine Interruptions
   Malta wasn’t Paul’s goal—it was a detour. He was on his way to Rome, and the shipwreck seemed like a catastrophic interruption. However, what appeared to be a delay was a divine appointment. During those three months on the island, God used Paul to bring healing, hope, and the gospel to people who might never have heard it otherwise.
   
   We don’t always welcome interruptions. We like control. We have plans. And when things don’t go according to those plans, we tend to get frustrated or discouraged. But God often does His best work in the detours. The job you didn’t get, the illness that slowed you down, the season of waiting or hardship you didn’t expect—these may be Malta moments. They may be God's way of saying, “This wasn’t your destination, but it’s where I want to use you right now.”
   
   

Conclusion
Paul’s time in Malta was never part of his plan—but it was part of God’s. What began as a shipwreck turned into a season of healing, ministry, and divine provision. Through it all, Paul never stopped serving, never relied on his strength, and never resisted God’s unexpected direction. He was a living testimony that when we are weak, God’s power shines brightest.

In your storms, delays, and detours, remember this: you are not sidelined. You are not disqualified. You are exactly where God can use you most—if you’re willing. Lean into His strength, stay open to divine interruptions, and keep serving faithfully. Because in Christ, your weakness is not a liability—it’s the doorway to His power.

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