When Soul Care Takes Its Toll: Facing Exhaustion in Biblical Counseling
Burnout sneaks up quietly. One day, you’re pouring your heart into helping someone through their darkest moments: grief, addiction, a crumbling marriage, and the next, you’re staring at an empty tank, wondering how you’ll keep going. If you’re a biblical counselor, pastor, or anyone in soul care, you’ve likely felt this. The work is beautiful but it’s also relentless. Compassion comes at a cost, and without care, that cost can break you. I’ve seen it firsthand, the weight of others’ burdens piling up, the late-night prayers, the constant call to be “on.” It’s a calling, not just a job, and that’s what makes exhaustion in biblical counseling so tricky. It’s not about clocking out, it’s about giving your soul to a mission that never sleeps. But here’s the truth, you weren’t meant to run on fumes.
What Exhaustion Feels Like
Exhaustion isn’t just feeling tired after a long day. It’s deeper; a bone-weary drain that hits your emotions, body, and spirit all at once.
Emotional Exhaustion: you’re so drained you can’t muster compassion anymore. You want to care, but the well’s dry.
Troubled Spirit: you start pulling back, getting cynical. That counselee across from you? They’re just another “case,” not a soul.
Reduced Accomplishment: nothing feels fruitful. You question if any of it matters.
For biblical counselors, this hits different. We’re called to bear burdens (Galatians 6:2) and to weep with those who weep (Romans 12:15). But when we don’t refill, either through God’s Word, rest, or even a decent night’s sleep, that load crushes us. I’ve been there, this semester I had 5 classes, our certificate program, ACBC supervision and I spoke every weekend beginning the first week of February (not wise). I epitomized the concept of exhausted. The sad part is that I had no one to blame but myself.
Why Soul Care Drains Us
Soul care/biblical counseling isn’t your average 9-to-5. It’s a frontline gig; emotional, spiritual, eternal. Here’s why it takes such a toll: we bear the weight of walking with people through despair, and it is heavy. You feel it even if it’s not yours. Spiritual warfare is real. It’s not just a human struggle—it’s a battle against lies and darkness. That tension wears you down. This leads into the eternal stakes, as James 3:1 reminds us, of stricter judgment. You’re guiding souls, and the fear of failing them can haunt you. Most importantly for me is the fact of not having an off switch. I allowed ministry lines to blur. Late calls, constant needs, without boundaries, you’re always “on.” I remember a season when I’d carry counselees’ stories home, replaying them instead of resting. It’s noble until it’s not. Without renewal, we’re just husks trying to pour out what we don’t have.
How It Shows Up
You might not notice exhaustion creeping in until it’s loud. It can be like standing next to speakers at a rock concert. Physically, it’s fatigue, headaches, sleepless nights. Emotionally, it’s irritability or numbness, snapping at your spouse or glazing over in a counseling session. Spiritually, it’s the scariest: prayer dries up, Scripture feels flat, God seems far. Psalm 51:12 became my cry: “Restore to me the joy of your salvation.” If that’s you, you’re not alone, and you’re not stuck.
Fighting Back: Practical Steps
Here’s the good news: exhaustion doesn’t have to win. God has wired us to endure, but we’ve got to work with Him. Here are few practical suggestions that I am trying to live out daily:
Lean into Christ. Matthew 11:28–30 isn’t just for your counselees. Jesus offers rest, so take it through prayer, worship, and time in the Word.
Start to say “no” sometimes. Learn to limit sessions and guard family time. It’s not selfish.
Find your people and don’t go it alone. Peers, disciplers, a church crew; let them hold you up.
Sabbath isn’t optional. God rested and so should you. A day off, a hike, a nap. Start to rest in the Lord.
Take care of yourself and eat decently. Move your body. Sleep.
Finally, I started small—a morning with my Bible and no phone. A walk with my dogs. Saying “not this week” to an extra session. It’s not perfect, but it’s life-giving.
The Grace to Keep Going
Here’s the anchor: you don’t have to be Superman. “My grace is sufficient,” God says (2 Corinthians 12:9). When I’m weak, He’s strong. That’s not a cliché, it’s fuel. Grace means messing up and still being enough. It means resting without guilt. It means trusting God’s got the transformation part, and I’m just the vessel. Joy helps too. Nehemiah 8:10 says it’s our strength.
A Call to Persevere
Caring for those that God has placed in our lives is a marathon, not a sprint. You’re in it because God called you, and He doesn’t leave you hanging. Spot the signs, run to Him, lean on your community, and guard your heart. The world’s broken, and you’re bringing hope. That’s worth fighting for.