Are You a Tired Pastor?
So here’s the thing: A lot of what we’ve collectively decided is “normal” in ministry isn’t actually normal, unless by “normal” we mean unsustainable, which—given the state of most pastors—is probably closer to the truth. The long hours, the never-ending to-do lists, the sense that everything will collapse if you aren’t constantly on, the caffeine-as-a-substitute-for-sleep experiment we’ve all been conducting. We don’t just accept this—we celebrate it. We make it a virtue. But at what cost?
I pastored a fast-growing church for years. It was exhilarating, like a rollercoaster where the seatbelt is a little loose but you convince yourself that’s part of the fun. I watched God work in ways that still make me shake my head in disbelief. People came to Christ, campuses launched, buildings were bought, staff were hired. It was growth on growth on growth, and I thought: This is what success looks like.
I also got plenty wrong, of course. That’s what leadership is—a series of mistakes strung together with occasional moments of clarity. But here’s the kicker: I knew burnout was a risk. I had conversations about it. I told myself I was aware. But I was young, and (let’s be honest) a little arrogant, and there was a lot I accepted as “just the way things are” that, in hindsight, absolutely should not have been the way things are. I was part of a church culture that treated exhaustion as a status symbol, a proof of commitment. “If you really care, you’ll push harder.” So I did.
Until late 2020, when everything collapsed. My body, my mind, my ability to function like a human being. I had hit full-blown, industrial-strength burnout. And here’s the ironic part: I hated the word burnout. It felt overused, like something people said when they just needed a vacation. But when you physically can’t get out of bed, when your immune system stops showing up to work, when your entire emotional range shrinks down to anxiety, depression, and numbness—you start reconsidering things. My psychologist was blunt: You are burned out.
The road back wasn’t quick, and it wasn’t easy. It required a total reevaluation—not just of how I worked, but of why I worked that way in the first place. I had to deal with the hidden dysfunctions that got me there. I had to unlearn habits I once thought were necessary. I had to redefine success. And most importantly, I had to acknowledge that my story isn’t unique. It happens all the time—and it shouldn’t.
So I started digging in. I studied burnout—not just through my own experience, but academically. I did postgraduate work on the subject. I read everything I could get my hands on. I gathered tools—not just for myself, but for others. Because pastors are at high risk of burnout. But here’s what most people don’t realize:
Burnout Doesn’t Happen Overnight. It’s a Process.
Most people think burnout is a moment—one day, you’re fine, and the next, you crash. But no. It’s a slow unraveling. And the worst part? Some of the early stages look almost identical to what we call a “strong work ethic.”
Suzy McAlpine breaks it down into four stages:
1. The Honeymoon Phase
You take on a new challenge, and you’re all in. You work long hours, push yourself hard, take on extra responsibilities. You feel unstoppable. Minor stress signals appear, but you ignore them because passion or calling or whatever excuse we use to justify self-destruction.
2. The Onset of Stress
Stress becomes constant. You’re exhausted but keep going. Sleep is harder to come by. You’re irritable, overwhelmed, starting to resent the work you once loved.
3. Chronic Stress
Now, it’s your default setting. You detach emotionally, productivity tanks, physical symptoms show up (headaches, constant colds, random aches you write off as “just getting older”). Relationships suffer. You feel like you’re failing, but you don’t know how to fix it.
4. Full-Blown Burnout
Total collapse. Severe exhaustion. Numbness. Apathy. Maybe depression. Maybe anxiety. Either way, you don’t care. You feel like a shell of yourself. Your body is waving a white flag.
Warning Signs You Shouldn’t Ignore
Stage 1: The Early Red Flags
You never take breaks because there’s too much to do.
You regularly bring work home.
Your personal life is shrinking.
Frustration is creeping in.
Stage 2: Stress Becomes a Lifestyle
You complain more about other people’s work.
You feel like you’re barely holding it together.
You’re working longer hours but getting less done.
Sleep problems. Headaches. Chronic fatigue.
Stage 3: The Fun Is Gone
Life outside work feels just as exhausting as work.
You’re going through the motions.
Nothing excites you anymore.
Stage 4: The Bottom Drops Out
Avoiding people.
Isolating yourself.
Physical ailments get worse.
Self-medicating (alcohol, food, Netflix, etc.).
Full-on depression.
If some of this sounds familiar, welcome to the club. And here’s the really sobering part: many churches normalize this. We’ve built a culture where burnout is expected. That should terrify us.
So… Now What?
Don’t use this post to self-diagnose. But do use it to reflect. Ask hard questions. Be honest about where you are. And recognize that if you’re in the early stages, now is the time to course-correct.
In my next post, I’ll talk about how to walk out of burnout—and, even better, how to build a life where burnout isn’t inevitable.
Because, despite what we’ve been told, ministry isn’t supposed to be a slow-motion train wreck. You weren’t called to barely survive this. You were called to thrive.
