Finding the Next Gear in Leadership
I was listening to a podcast the other day about what leadership does to the body, mind, heart, and spirit. It jogged something loose that I’ve watched wreck good leaders for years, including me.
The fix everybody offers is wrong. “Slow down.” “Do less.” “Take a break.” Cute. I’ve watched leaders take the week off and carry the entire job in their heads the whole time. They came back more tired than when they left.
The real answer is harder and better: rest when you rest, so you can work when you work. All the way in. All the way out. No idling in between.
Half-working and half-resting isn’t a balance. It’s the worst of both.
Two gears. You’re stuck in one.
Here’s the no-lab-coat version. (I’m a pastor, not a physician. If you’re in real trouble, see one.)
The Gas Pedal
Sympathetic nervous system
Fight. Flight. Freeze. Focus narrows, heart rate climbs, adrenaline floods in. Built for the emergency, the deadline, the crisis call.
The Other Gear
Parasympathetic nervous system
Rest. Recover. Repair. Where your body resets, your head clears, and you can actually be with another human being.
God built both. The gas pedal is a gift when the moment demands it. The problem is that most leaders never fully come off it. You’re not really working and you’re not really resting. You’re idling in the red: foot half down, body never recovering, mind never fully anywhere.
Exhibit A: my week
I’ll use my own world, because it’s the version I know well. And I’m pretty sure it’s something like what you’re doing.
MONDAY Absorb everything that happened Sunday. Yep the good, bad, and indifferent.
MIDWEEK Carry everyone else’s grief, marriages, diagnoses, and secrets.
THURSDAY Write something that has to be true and alive. And that will keep about 200 people awake and engaged and growing in their faith lives.
SUNDAY Perform (not entertain) at a high level, on deadline, in front of everyone, while smiling at the guy who emailed you Friday using words you would not tell your mother.
That’s not a job. That’s a weekly adrenaline cycle with a Bible attached. And here’s the part nobody sees. I can sit in the bleachers at my kid’s event with my head in next week’s sermon. I can sit at the table with my phone face-down and my mind still locked in a hard meeting. The work never leaves. It just changes locations.
When you never fully disengage, you never fully engage. Everyone gets a tired, distracted version of you, and then you wonder why you feel like you’re failing at everything.
Pastors are burning out. Not because they don’t love Jesus. Because they’ve confused always on with faithful.
I don’t think this is just a pastor problem
Swap the uniform. Same pattern.
Absorbs twelve hours of other people’s worst day, then brings it home still on her.
Performs for thirty kids all day, then grades and answers email until bed.
The answer to every question and the buffer for every problem.
No clock to punch. Ever.
Always one emergency away from the next one.
Constant responsibility for other people. A mind that never gets to come home.
Who’s really doing this to you?
It comes from two directions and we have to be honest about both.
Imposed demands. The congregation, the boss, the clients, the family. The unwritten job description nobody voted on but everybody expects. Real, heavy, sometimes unfair.
Self-inflicted demands. These are the things we think but aren’t necessarily true. You can’t delegate because nobody does it right. You can’t say no because somebody might be disappointed. You can’t disconnect because everything might collapse without you. That’s not devotion. A lot of it is ego with a halo.
Most of us blame the first list for what the second list is doing.
You need a home place
A week off won’t fix this. A week off with your head still at work is just an expensive commute.
What you need is a home place. Somewhere you get to be you, where the emergency doesn’t reach as easily. It might be a physical spot like a porch, a garden, a workbench, or a trail. It might be a person who knows you outside your role. It might be a daily practice nobody else gets to schedule. What makes it home isn’t how long you’re there. It’s that when you’re there, you’re actually there, and the job can’t follow you through the door.
Jesus lived this. He slept through a storm in the back of a boat while professional fishermen panicked (Mark 4:38). The emergency was real. It just didn’t own Him. He withdrew to lonely places to pray (Luke 5:16), not to check out, but because what was coming needed all of Him. And when a desperate father was dragging Him toward a dying daughter, He stopped for a woman in the crowd and gave her His full attention (Luke 8:40-48).
All the way out. All the way in. Never half.
Spiritual disciplines aren’t a nap
In church circles, “spiritual disciplines” gets treated like one more thing you’re failing at, or a polite word for sitting there doing nothing. Wrong on both counts.
Prayer, Scripture, silence, Sabbath, worship. They’re not a pause button. They’re the training that makes full engagement possible. They teach you to be present with God, so you can be present with whatever is in front of you. Whether that’s the person across the table, the problem on your desk, or the kid asking you a question for the third time.
Don’t share my faith? The principle doesn’t care. Call it prayer, a long walk, meditation, or a hard stop at 6 p.m. What matters is that it’s a real threshold and you actually cross it.
Five on-ramps. Start today.
Stop trying to be a slower leader.
Be a complete one.
All in when you’re working. All the way off when you’re not. And an honest answer about which one you’re in right now. The people counting on you don’t need someone who’s always on. They need someone who’s fully there.
Know a leader who’s been redlining too long? Send them this. And if you’re the one running on fumes, reach out. That’s exactly what I’m here for.