One Sunday morning, my alarm went off at half past five, as usual. Outside, it was still dark. I lay in bed, unable to move, while my mind automatically began running through the day’s schedule: morning prayers, preaching at Sunday worship, lunch with co-workers, afternoon pastoral visits, and an evening fellowship gathering. I wouldn’t get home until late that night.

Photo by Thien Phu Pham on Unsplash

I closed my eyes, hoping for a brief moment to clear my head. But then a thought suddenly came to me: “Why don’t I want to go to church?”

As someone called by God to serve as a preacher, I had never before found myself thinking, “I don’t want to go to church.” Yet over the past six months, that unwelcome thought had returned again and again. Instead of looking forward to serving God with joy, I felt exhausted to the very core.

That Sunday, I preached on Matthew 11:28: “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.” Yet while I was preaching those words, I was crying inside.

“Lord, I am weary and burdened myself. Why can’t I find rest?”

If a preacher cannot find rest even on the Sabbath, how can that preacher lead God’s people into true rest? Ministry had become an endless cycle of activity, while my spiritual life was growing increasingly barren.

Where, then, was the way forward?

Like a Spinning Top That Never Stops

A preacher’s week is filled with ministry responsibilities: sermon preparation, leading Bible studies, pastoral visits and care, staff meetings, planning special events, administrative work, community outreach, and much more. Each responsibility meshes with the next like gears in a machine, keeping you constantly on the move. What is even more exhausting are the expectations that come from every direction.

Believers and ministry co-workers often assume that a preacher should always be available—to answer phone calls, reply to WeChat messages, make visits, solve problems, and remain consistently strong, faithful, and wise, never showing signs of weariness or weakness.

Outwardly, I continued serving as usual. Inwardly, however, I was on the verge of burnout. What left me feeling even more powerless was that many of my efforts produced little immediate fruit. People’s struggles remained unresolved. Young adults continued to leave the church. Growth came slowly.

When effort no longer seems to match the results, and ministry gradually shifts from the natural overflow of spiritual life to an ever-growing list of responsibilities, the exhaustion becomes almost impossible to put into words.

A Busy Heart Is a Dying Heart

I once heard a preacher explain the Chinese character 忙 (máng, “busy”) by breaking it down into two parts: 忄 (“heart”) and 亡 (“death”). In other words, when busyness consumes us, the heart begins to die. That explanation struck me deeply.

When my life became completely filled with ministry, when my schedule was packed from morning until night, and when my phone never seemed to stop ringing, I began asking myself: Where had my heart gone?

To be honest, during that season my spiritual life had become little more than a formality. The first thing I did every morning was check my phone for urgent messages. Bible reading became preparation for preaching rather than a time of meeting with God. My prayers grew shorter, hurried, and increasingly mechanical.

What frightened me even more was that I gradually stopped sensing God’s presence. I didn’t dare share my struggle with fellow ministry workers or members of the congregation because I was afraid they would lose confidence in me.

Looking back, I now realize that much of this exhaustion came from believing that everything depended on me—that the church couldn’t function without me, and that every problem had to be solved immediately.

The Way Out: Finding Renewed Strength Through Rest

The turning point came one evening when I was on the verge of collapse. I knelt beside my bed to pray, but for a long time I couldn’t say a single word. Then, in the quietness, a gentle question seemed to arise within me: “Are you tired? If you are, come to me.”

In that moment I realized something I had never truly seen before. I had been carrying every burden by myself, yet I had never really come to the Lord with those burdens. That was when I began to rethink what the Sabbath truly means.

Genesis 2 tells us that after completing the work of creation, God rested on the seventh day and set that day apart for humanity. God knows our limitations. God knows that we need to stop, to rest, and to be renewed.

As Ecclesiastes reminds us, “There is a time for everything”—a time to work and a time to rest in God’s presence. Yet I had turned the Sabbath into just another working day. For me, Sunday had become the busiest day of the week. I spent the day handling ministry responsibilities, yet I rarely experienced genuine rest in God.

Jesus said, “The Sabbath was made for man, not man for the Sabbath.” (Mark 2:27)

Those words brought tremendous freedom. The Sabbath is not merely a religious obligation or a legal requirement. It is God’s gracious gift to humanity. Keeping the Sabbath should not mean spending an entire day busily serving at church. It should mean setting aside time to rest in God’s presence. Once I understood that, I began making practical changes.

First, I learned to set healthy boundaries around my time. I spoke honestly with my co-workers and asked for their understanding. I also made a commitment to God to set aside at least half a day each week. During that time I switched off my phone and devoted those hours entirely to being with God. At first it felt uncomfortable. Gradually, however, I rediscovered the joy of quietly reading Scripture, praying, reflecting, or simply sitting by the window in silence.

Second, I began developing a healthier rhythm for my spiritual life. Even if I had only fifteen minutes in the morning, I read Scripture before beginning my work. On my way to pastoral visits, I prayed quietly. Before going to bed, I put away my phone and spent at least ten minutes resting quietly in God’s presence.

Learning to Rest Again

Third, I stopped trying to carry everything on my own. I began intentionally seeking support. I found an older pastor whom I trusted and met with regularly to share my struggles and confusion. More often than not, the pastor simply listened and prayed with me. I also began meeting weekly with several co-workers to pray for one another.

Fourth, I learned to distinguish between God’s calling and people’s expectations. Looking back, I realized that much of my busyness did not come from God. Instead, it came from my own inability to say no.

I wanted to meet every request from my co-workers and every expectation from members of the congregation. Gradually, those expectations became burdens that I placed upon myself.

Now I am learning to ask a different question: Is this something God is asking me to do, or is it simply something that someone else hopes I will do? That question has brought a new sense of freedom.

Rest So That We Can Go Further

Looking back on that difficult season, one lesson has become especially clear to me: Rest is not the opposite of ministry. Rest makes faithful ministry possible. Only when we learn to rest well can we continue serving in a healthy and sustainable way. A preacher’s identity is not defined first by ministry, but by belonging to God.

I am not a ministry machine. I am a beloved child of God.

Only when my own soul is continually nourished can I truly care for the souls of others. Now, when my alarm goes off at half past five on Sunday morning, I wake up with a different expectation. Today I will meet God. Every sermon has become more than a responsibility. It is an opportunity to share the grace that God has first given to me during times of rest.

Jesus once said, “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.” For years I shared those words with countless others. Now they have become good news for my own heart as well.

Pausing is not falling behind. Rest prepares us to journey farther. May every preacher find true strength and lasting peace as each learns to rest in the Lord.

Original source: Tian Feng, No. 558 (June 2026)

Author: Jin Sangsang

Translator: Bei Yu