The pastors who last don’t have less stress.
They’ve just built better bounce-back systems.
And if you don’t, ministry will chew you up, spit you out, and then ask you to preach revival next week because “you really needed a break.”
If you’ve been in ministry more than about… oh… a month, you already know it’s not the preaching that’ll take you out.
It’s the slow bleed.
The endless people drama.
The weeks where Sunday shows up way faster than it did last week... like it’s sneaking up behind you with a Nerf bat.
Burnout rarely bursts in like a house fire. It’s more like a leaky roof.
Quiet.
Consistent.
Invisible.
Until it dumps a whole gallon of cold ministry reality on your head during the offertory.
The Truth Nobody Likes to Say Out Loud
Most pastors don’t quit because they stopped loving Jesus.
They quit because they ran out of emotional fuel.
They stopped recovering.
And recovery isn’t just “sleep more” or “skip the extra meeting.”
It’s a deliberate strategy—a system—to refill the tank before you start preaching angry sermons at the Wednesday night crowd of 12.
3 Ways to Flip the Script on Burnout
Here’s how you can start tomorrow without quitting your church, faking a sabbatical, or moving to Montana to open a trout-fishing retreat.
1. Guard Your Non-Negotiables
I’m not talking “self-care” like lavender candles and Enya on repeat.
(Although if you’re burning candles while blasting ‘Sail Away,’ I want pictures).
I mean the core habits that keep you alive:
- 7-8 hours of quality sleep (and protecting your evening wind-down like it’s your last clean dress shirt)
- Daily Scripture reading not tied to sermon prep (God’s Word is for your soul too, not just your outline)
- At least 20 minutes of physical movement (preferably the kind that makes you breathe like you just ran from the nursery to the baptistry)
- One completely phone-free meal each day with family or friends (yes, even if “this one text is important”)
- A weekly “no ministry talk” block where the brain gets to clock out and think about literally anything else (like whether you could beat a Deacon Simmons in a footrace)
- Guarding one hobby or interest that has zero professional payoff (because joy counts too, and the church doesn’t need you to become an expert in HVAC maintenance just because the unit went out again)
Skip these too often and you’re playing ministry Jenga…
... and the whole tower is about to tip.
2. Close the Approval Faucet
Your identity in Christ has to be louder than the applause (or the criticism) of church members.
If your sense of worth is hooked to their reactions, you’ll either burn out from trying to please everyone… or snap and start a six-week sermon series titled “Why You People Make Me Crazy.”
An example from my own life...
In my denominational tradition, altar call responses were one of the biggest feedback loops going (though nobody ever came right out and said it).
The unspoken scoreboard was “How many came forward?”
It's less that way today... but back then, I had to unhook from that, trusting God with the results.
(Because the truth is, as late night conversations, letters and emails arriving months after an engagement taught me: namely, that the best fruit usually doesn't show up in a single moment at the front of the church, no matter what script "ministry society" handed me.)
The day I let go of that scoreboard, I could breathe better in my soul... and focus on what mattered.
As an itinerant bible teacher and revivalist, that was a massive liberation shift.
My sermons got better too...
Probably because I wasn’t trying to emotionally arm-wrestle the congregation through “one more verse of Just As I Am.”
Your's is probably different than mine, but regardless...
There's only one "well done" that matters.
(And it ain't Sister Karen's.)
3. Practice Micro-Recovery
Big vacations are great...
But they can’t fix a bad Tuesday.
Stack small recovery moments into your day:
- A 10-minute walk between meetings (bonus points if you escape before someone “just needs a quick word”)
- Breathing exercises before a difficult conversation (inhale grace, exhale… other thoughts)
- A strict cutoff time when ministry talk stops at home (yes, even if you think your spouse loves hearing about the great church thermostat battle of 2024)
- Stretching or mobility work between desk sessions (you can think of it as practice for dodging that one hyper-talker church member in the foyer)
- Listening to music purely for enjoyment (not as background noise for sermon writing)
- Stepping outside for sunlight first thing in the morning to reset your body clock (and scare the squirrels)
- A short prayer walk with no agenda except gratitude (yes, you can include thanking God for the person who invented coffee)
Micro-recoveries add up.
Think of them like compound interest on your emotional bank account…
Except you actually see a return.
Bottom Line
Burnout doesn’t care how gifted you are...
How many degrees you have...
How moving your last sermon was.
It only cares if you’ve stopped refueling.
The pastors who last aren’t running on less stress. They’re running better recovery systems.
Build yours.
Guard it like a pit bull on a pork chop.
And when you feel the drip-drip-drip of burnout, fix the leak before it floods the house… and you end up preaching from a kayak.
Because the goal isn’t just to make it to Sunday…
It’s to still want to be in the pulpit fifteen years from now.
More Resources To Help You Optimize
🥤Momentum Shake: The Complete Longevity Shake for Optimal Health
🎥 Sermon Shots: Repurpose Sermons Into Clips & Other Engaging Content in Minutes
💊 My (Scott's) full supplement regimen