A few months ago, my husband, Jeremy, experienced something I haven’t been able to stop thinking about.
It happened immediately after one of the hardest moments our family has walked through.
We were sitting in a hospital room after receiving difficult news from our daughter’s doctor. The procedure we had hoped would finally bring relief hadn’t gone as planned. We were left processing disappointment, uncertainty, and a whole lot of unanswered questions.
After the doctor left, Jeremy did what Jeremy always does first.
He prayed.
As he held our hands, he boldly prayed that God would do something beyond what the medical team expected. That maybe the story wasn’t finished yet.
(As I write this months later, I smile because it actually looks like God may be answering that prayer. Sophia is doing far better than anyone anticipated, and we are incredibly grateful!)
But in that hospital room, we didn’t know that yet.
Sophia and I began to cry.
Jeremy looked at us, paused for a moment, and declared:
“You need chocolate.”
If you know Jeremy, this probably doesn’t surprise you. Sophia loves chocolate, and Jeremy is the kind of person who will move heaven and earth to make someone he loves smile.
He searched the hospital gift shop.
The cafeteria.
The nurses’ stations.
Apparently, no one had enough chocolate to satisfy his mission, so he drove to Target.
When he returned, he walked into Sophia’s hospital room carrying a giant bag of chocolate and dumped it onto her bed. We laughed harder than we had in days. Honestly, we needed that moment.
Twenty-four hours later, Jeremy woke up covered in stress hives.
That chocolate hunt wasn’t really about chocolate.
It was about avoiding a feeling.
It was about wanting to fix something that couldn’t be fixed. It was about trying to bring comfort when his own heart was breaking.
Jeremy wasn’t avoiding caring for us, he was caring for us so deeply that he forgot he needed care too.
The hives weren’t his body betraying him, they were his body communicating with him.
As a therapist, I’ve seen this pattern hundreds of times.
Someone comes into my office exhausted, anxious, or emotionally overwhelmed.
They assume the problem started recently, but as we explore their story we often discover their body had been whispering long before it started shouting.
Maybe it was the racing heart they ignored.
The sleepless nights they blamed on being busy.
The headaches that became normal.
Our bodies are remarkably wise.
God designed our minds, bodies, emotions, and spirits to work together. When one area is overwhelmed, eventually the others begin to feel it too.
Pastors often understand this concept for everyone else, but many struggle to apply it personally.
You are trained to notice what everyone else needs, but the challenge is remembering to notice yourself.
Your body isn’t your enemy - it may be one of God’s earliest warning systems.
Are you willing to slow down long enough to listen?
Pastoral ministry asks you to carry things most people never see.
You celebrate with families one moment and walk with someone through deep grief the next. You prepare sermons while navigating your own disappointments. You absorb conflict, counsel hurting people, make difficult leadership decisions, and often feel pressure to remain steady for everyone around you.
That responsibility doesn’t just stay in your mind. Eventually, it settles somewhere in your body.
The good news? Your body isn’t working against you.
It’s trying to help you.
Those racing thoughts, sleepless nights, tense shoulders, headaches, fatigue, or constant exhaustion may be invitations to pause and ask: “God, what are You trying to help me notice?”
Here are three common stress signals I see in pastors and what they may be communicating.
Your body may be saying: “I’ve been living in survival mode for too long.”
Have you ever noticed that even when you finally get home, your mind is still preparing for what comes next?
You’re replaying conversations from Sunday.
Thinking about the family in crisis.
Preparing for the next leadership meeting.
Wondering if you forgot a phone call.
Your nervous system doesn’t always know the difference between a true emergency and a mind that never gets permission to rest.
A racing heart, irritability, difficulty relaxing, or feeling constantly “on” may be signs that you’ve been carrying more than you were designed to hold.
Ask yourself:
Where am I carrying responsibility that God never asked me to carry alone?
Pastors are often tempted to believe everything depends on them.
Every hurting family.
Every ministry decision.
Every person who needs help.
But you were never called to be the Savior.
You were called to point people to Him.
“Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you.”
—1 Peter 5:7
Peter doesn’t simply tell us to trust God. He tells us to cast our anxieties on Him. Casting requires releasing something we were never meant to keep holding.
Try this:
Before your next difficult conversation, meeting, or counseling session, practice a simple breathing exercise:
Inhale for 4 seconds.
Hold for 7 seconds.
Exhale for 8 seconds.
A longer exhale helps signal safety to your nervous system and reminds your body:
“I am safe. I do not have to carry this alone.”
Your body may be saying: “You haven’t had space to process everything you’re carrying.”
Sleep is often where stress catches up with us.
Your head finally hits the pillow…
…and suddenly your brain starts writing next Sunday’s sermon.
Or replaying that difficult conversation.
Or worrying about the family who needs support.
Or wondering whether you handled that situation the right way.
Many pastors assume sleeplessness is simply part of ministry.
Sometimes it is.
But sometimes your body is letting you know that you’ve been carrying today’s burdens into tomorrow.
God never intended for us to process life only when we’re trying to sleep, but what we don’t deal with when we are awake will catch up to us once things get quiet.
Sometimes the answer to this nighttime stress isn’t another Bible study.
Sometimes it’s honesty.
Sometimes it’s simply saying:
“God, I don’t know how to fix this.”
Ask yourself:
What am I still holding that I need to surrender before I go to bed tonight?
“In peace I will lie down and sleep, for you alone, Lord, make me dwell in safety.”
—Psalm 4:8
Peace doesn’t mean problems disappear.
It means God is present in the middle of them.
Try this:
Create a simple five-minute closing ritual before bed.
Write down:
Your brain often rests better when it knows it doesn’t have to keep carrying everything until morning.
Your body may be saying: “I’m depleted. I need recovery, not guilt.”
Almost every pastor I’ve worked with knows this feeling.
Sunday is beautiful.
And it’s also incredibly demanding.
You preach.
You lead.
You counsel.
You pray.
You encourage.
You make decisions.
You carry emotions that aren’t even your own.
Then Monday arrives…
…and suddenly you’re exhausted.
You wonder why your motivation disappeared.
You wonder why you feel discouraged.
You wonder if something is wrong with you. (Usually, nothing is wrong.)
Your body is simply asking for recovery after an enormous output of emotional, spiritual, and relational energy.
Elite athletes expect recovery after competition.
Musicians expect recovery after a performance.
Pastors often expect themselves to simply keep going.
Ask yourself:
What did yesterday require from me that I haven’t yet replenished?
Maybe the answer is rest.
Maybe it’s quiet.
Maybe it’s laughter.
Maybe it’s spending time with people who know you as a person instead of only as “Pastor.”
“Come to me, all who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.”
—Matthew 11:28
Jesus doesn’t shame weary people.
He invites them.
Try this:
If possible, protect the first part of your Monday.
Take a walk.
Read Scripture slowly. Not to prepare a sermon, but simply to be with God.
Eat breakfast without multitasking.
Spend time doing something that restores you.
Recovery isn’t selfish.
It’s stewardship.
One of the biggest mindset shifts I hope for pastors is this:
Your health is not separate from your calling.
It is part of your calling.
Too often we tell ourselves:
“I’ll slow down after ________ .” Fill in the blank (Christmas, Easter, VBS, this next crisis, etc.)
But ministry rarely slows down.
There will always be another sermon.
Another meeting.
Another family needing support.
If your health is always waiting until ministry becomes easier, you may be waiting a very long time.
Healthy ministry doesn’t happen because we eventually find time to care for ourselves.
Healthy ministry happens because we recognize that caring for ourselves helps us continue caring for others.
Jesus modeled this rhythm beautifully.
He withdrew.
He prayed.
He rested.
Not because He loved people less, but because remaining connected to the Father was how He continued loving people well.
Your humanity isn’t an obstacle to your ministry.
It’s part of how God designed you to live it faithfully.
So where do you start?
This is one of my favorite questions because it’s where many pastors get stuck.
They know they’re tired and that something feels off.
They know they need something to change, but they don’t always know how.
That’s why I love the Wheel of Wellness.
The Wheel of Wellness is a simple tool that helps us zoom out and take a “helicopter view” of our lives.
Instead of asking:
“Am I okay?”
It invites us to ask:
“Which area of my life needs attention right now?”
Maybe your spiritual life feels strong, but your relationships are running on empty.
Maybe your physical health has quietly slipped to the bottom of your priority list.
The wheel helps us notice before we rush toward fixing, because not every struggle requires the same response.
Sometimes the answer is a nap.
Sometimes it’s a boundary.
Sometimes it’s calling a counselor.
Sometimes it’s taking your spouse on a date.
And yes…
Sometimes a bubble bath or a round of golf really is what your soul needs.
The goal isn’t checking a self-care box, it’s responding wisely to what God is inviting you to notice.
As Christians, we believe God’s Word is the ultimate source of truth, hope, and healing.
Paul reminds us:
“All Scripture is God-breathed and is useful for teaching, rebuking, correcting and training in righteousness, so that the servant of God may be thoroughly equipped for every good work.”
—2 Timothy 3:16-17
Scripture equips us for every area of life.
But applying Scripture without understanding where we need healing is a little like putting medicine where a wound isn’t present.
The medicine is good, it works! But we need to know where to apply it in our lives.
The Wheel of Wellness helps us prayerfully ask:
“Lord, where are You inviting me to receive Your care?”
If this article resonated with you, I want to invite you to take one small step toward caring for the person behind the pastor.
Download the Wheel of Wellness and spend a few quiet moments reflecting on each area of your life.
Bring it into your prayer time.
Talk through it with your spouse or a trusted friend.
Use it as a conversation starter with your leadership team.
And if you recognize that you’ve been carrying more than you were ever meant to carry, remember:
Seeking support isn’t weakness, it’s wisdom.
At Love Your Story Christian Counseling Services, we believe pastors deserve the same care, compassion, and support they so faithfully offer others.
Our team provides faith-integrated counseling for pastors, ministry leaders, and individuals navigating stress, burnout, grief, anxiety, relationship challenges, and life transitions.
You don’t have to wait until you’re completely depleted to receive care.
Your story matters.
Your wellness matters.
And the person behind the pastor matters.
Learn more about Love Your Story Christian Counseling Services:
www.loveyourstorytherapy.com
Sarah Proemsey, LPCC, is the Founder and Clinical Director of Love Your Story Christian Counseling Services, a faith-based counseling practice serving individuals, couples, families, and ministry leaders throughout California.
As both a licensed therapist and the wife of a pastor, Sarah brings a unique perspective to caring for those who spend their lives caring for others. She is passionate about integrating biblical truth with evidence-based mental health practices, helping people understand that healing isn’t about becoming someone new, it’s about discovering and caring for the story God is already writing.
Sarah believes some of life’s best lessons come wrapped in everyday stories (sometimes even in a giant Target bag full of chocolate!). Through speaking, writing, and counseling, Sarah equips pastors and ministry leaders with practical tools to care for the whole person God created them to be—blending biblical truth, practical psychology, and a healthy dose of grace (and humor) along the way.