Confronting Compassion Fatigue as the Pastor of Compassion Church
As this doctoral program concludes, I find myself reflecting on how much of leadership is interior. Strategy and structure still matter, but they are not the core. The real work happens in the unseen places, the places Friedman calls the “self of the leader” and Walker names the “backstage.” Returning to formal education was an act of recognition, a confession that I needed deeper formation. This journey has sharpened my mind, but more importantly it has exposed and tended the parts of my soul that had been straining under the weight of ministry.
One of the truths emerging for me is my tendency toward people-pleasing. Charles Stone’s People Pleasing Pastor and Scazzero’s work on emotional health named the pattern for me, but Walker and Friedman showed me its inner mechanism. I have spent years carrying the quiet pressure to be everything to everyone. Pastors often learn early to read a room, absorb tension, and make peace. Over time, those habits become identity. What began as compassion morphed into a compulsion. In this program, I have slowly learned to minister from presence rather than approval, to listen inwardly before reacting outwardly, and to allow myself the grace of not pleasing everyone.
Parenting has been another teacher. As a foster and adoptive dad, I’ve learned more about my nervous system in the last few years than I did in the first decade of ministry. Lisa Qualls’ language of blocked care has been transformative. There were seasons when compassion felt hard to access and I did not understand why. I now know that when the nervous system is overwhelmed, even good parents and pastors experience emotional numbness and fatigue. Qualls—and our lived experience with trauma-informed parenting—helped me recognize this not as failure but as physiology. There are parallels in ministry. Long stretches of crisis or accumulated needs can lead to pastoral blocked care. Recognizing this has taught me to ask for help earlier, to rest without guilt, and to tend my internal world with patience rather than shame.
These insights have helped me embrace what Scazzero calls the “gift of limits.” I am learning that my limitations are not obstacles to overcome but invitations to trust. Limits teach me to rely on others, to engage my family with more tenderness, and to let God be God. This shift has made me a more honest leader, aware that I cannot be the answer to every problem and that I am not meant to be.
Walker and Friedman offer images that have become thresholds for my inner life. Walker’s idea of the backstage has helped me pay attention to what happens when no one is watching. It is the place where my motives, fears, and identity are shaped. If neglected, the front stage of ministry becomes brittle. Friedman’s metaphor of the leader as a thermostat rather than a thermometer has changed how I enter anxious environments. Instead of mirroring the emotional climate around me, I am learning to regulate myself and set a temperature grounded in calm, hope, and clarity.
In this season, I am noticing a shift in my leadership identity. Some of my most creative, pioneering years feel like they are behind me, and I am content with that. I feel drawn into the role of a coach, a cultivator, someone who empowers others to lead from their gifts. This transition requires restraint, but it also carries joy. The doctoral work itself has reinforced this shift. Much of my growth has been slow, reflective, and interior. Writing, reading, and integrating theory with lived experience have cultivated a new kind of leadership presence in me, one marked less by urgency and more by attentiveness.
Even navigating the use of AI has become part of my formation. Learning to use it ethically, not as a shortcut but as a reflective partner, has sharpened my integrity. It has taught me to bring my authentic voice and pastoral identity to the work rather than outsourcing my soul to efficiency.
All of this inner work is happening during the Advent season, and the timing feels like a gift. Advent is about waiting, becoming, and trusting that God is moving in the quiet and hidden places. My inner landscape feels like Advent. I am waiting, listening, and allowing the slow work of God to take root. Much of this program has been an Advent journey. I have sat with my limits, my longings, and the unfinished parts of myself. Formation has come gently, often quietly, and sometimes painfully. Advent reminds me that God does some of his best work in silence and in the dark.
As I look ahead, I do not feel urgency to define the future. I feel an invitation to inhabit it faithfully. I am discerning how my pastoral presence might widen beyond Compassion, how writing or teaching might serve the broader church, and how to steward my energy in sustainable ways. These are not strategic questions as much as spiritual ones. They require listening, patience, and courage.
Certain practices keep me grounded. Sabbath remains my anchor. It restores my identity, quiets my nervous system, and reminds me that I am more than my productivity. Somatic breathing, the Daily Office, and embodied prayer sustain me through the week. The rhythms of compassionate care in our home shape both my parenting and my pastoring with tenderness.
All of this, from Walker’s insight to Friedman’s guidance to the doctoral program’s demands, has formed a more integrated self. I live and lead in emotionally complex environments. My vocation now is to steward those spaces with grounded-ness and grace, and to extend to myself the same compassion I offer others. I sense God inviting me to lead from a deeper place within, from presence rather than striving, and from the quiet hope of Advent that God is still forming me.
About the Author
Ryan Thorson
Follower of Jesus. Husband. Father. Pastor. Coach. I am passionate about helping people discover the gift of Sabbath and slow down spirituality in the context of our busy world.11 responses to “Confronting Compassion Fatigue as the Pastor of Compassion Church”
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Ryan,
Thank you for your post. Wondering what you will do with all your free time. You talked about reading a room when you walk in. On a typical Sunday morning in your church, what is the general atmosphere or spirit that you are sensing within your congregation?
Hi Ryan,
This has been a great journey. How do you sense your pastoral presence widening beyond Compassion?
Ryan,
Two things I have learned about you over these courses.
One: you can still be cool even without a cool phone.
Two: you are the person to go to regarding Sabbath work.
I love that you have poured into Sabbath and are trying to find ways to encourage others to do it. I love your heart for children in need and am personally aware of how big of an undertaking that can be–especially during such a rigorous program. I am sure it was not easy. Thanks for teaching me and encouraging me to incorporate more sabbath routines to the best of my ability.
Hi Ryan,
Thank you for the powerful phrase “ministry can become brittle.” I will remember it. The interior you work you describe in this post exudes through the writing. I felt peace in my soul while reading it. Your in person presence is the same. Thank you for the vital work of encouraging Sabbath. I bless your home and ministry with peace.
Hi Ryan,
As you transition into a more coaching, I pray that God cultivates in you a discipline to resist drifting back into people-pleasing or over functioning.
What a joy it has been to learn alongside you in this program! Blessings!
Ryan, it’s been so much fun to be on this journey with you. I’ve learned a lot from you and you continue to inspire me toward sabbath. Thanks for your important work on this is your project. It will be a gift to the church.
Hey Ryan,
I can still remember meeting you in Oxford—you were the first person from our cohort I met, and your kindness and welcoming personality immediately put me at ease. That’s stayed true the whole way through, and I’ve genuinely appreciated it. You’ve also given me plenty of good things to think about (and to use in my syntopical essays!).
I really resonated with how you described returning to school as realizing you needed deeper formation. The way you named the pressure to be everything to everyone—and how that slowly becomes identity—felt incredibly real. Your shift toward ministering from presence instead of approval, resting without guilt, and giving yourself the same compassion you offer others was really encouraging to read.
And I loved the way you wrote about sensing God inviting you to lead from a deeper place, with less striving and more grounded hope. That’s a meaningful picture of vocation.
It’s been a privilege to be in this program with you.
“the “gift of limits.” I am learning that my limitations are not obstacles to overcome but invitations to trust.”
I love this Ryan! Thank you for sharing this journey with me. You are a wise soul with a huge heart. I pray that God continues to lead you in places of joy and compassion. Let’s please stay in touch!
God bless.
Ryan, I have loved chatting with you and learning more about Sabbath, adoption, fostering, and finding margin in the midst of life. You have been an inspiration to me and I look forward to seeing how God uses you and your family to change the world around you!
Ryan, thank you for this rich and honest reflection. I was especially struck by how you wove together people-pleasing, blocked care, and the “gift of limits” into a coherent picture of pastoral humanity. Your line about ministering from presence rather than approval, and the way you’ve reframed blocked care as physiology rather than failure, felt incredibly freeing. The thermostat/thermometer metaphor, your Advent framing of this inner season, and even your reflections on using AI as a reflective partner all painted a picture of a leader quietly becoming more grounded, compassionate, and whole. It made me grateful not just for what you do at Compassion Church, but for who you are becoming as you lead there. I’m really thankful I’ve gotten to walk this doctoral journey alongside you these last couple of years.
As you lean more into that coach/cultivator identity, is there one specific rhythm or boundary you’re committed to guarding so that compassion fatigue doesn’t quietly rebuild in this next season?
Ryan! You are my last blog reply for my doctoral program! You have always been witty, warm, and insightful. I genuinely cherish the time we have shared together and honestly look forward to doing the same after graduation. Your NPO on the sabbath is much needed, and more of us need to observe it as both a commandment and a call. You have been a friend and brother to me in this journey. Now make sure you know how to use that new phone and stay in touch! Peace and Blessings, my brother!