The Overlooked Skills That Make or Break a Pastor, Part 4

Keeping Outside Counsel

If you’re the senior pastor, the lead guy, the one preaching most Sundays, moderating the elder meetings, doing the bulk of the counseling—whatever your title—you need other pastors in your life. Not just friends. Not just members of your church who love and support you. Actual pastors. And not just from within your own church.

Here’s why.

Even if you’ve got a solid elder board—godly, wise men you trust—you can still drift into an echo chamber. It happens slowly. Patterns form, assumptions harden, and before long, you all start reinforcing the same narratives. You might begin to think things are much better than they really are, or far worse than they actually are. You start fighting imaginary problems or missing the real ones.

That’s where outside voices come in, men close enough to care, but far enough to be objective. Pastors who’ve walked through their own messes and can say things like, “Brother, you’re blowing this out of proportion,” or “That’s not paranoia, that’s a real issue,” or even, “You’re not crazy, I’ve been there.”

This isn’t about gossip or slander. It’s wisdom. Think of it like a doctor calling up another doctor and saying, “Hey, I’ve got this case, am I missing something?” Proverbs says there’s safety in an abundance of counselors, but to get that kind of wisdom, you need a few counselors who aren’t knee-deep in the day-to-day with you.

And let me be blunt: you need at least one or two ministry friends you can vent to. I’m not talking about slow-motion emotional processing. I mean you call them, unload, say things you know aren’t completely fair or accurate—because you’re frustrated, exhausted, and trying to stay sane—and they don’t flinch.

That’s not immaturity, it’s wisdom. It’s a pressure valve. It’s what keeps you from exploding on your wife or overcorrecting from the pulpit. A good friend in ministry lets you say the dumb thing, hears it out, doesn’t freak out, maybe pushes back later. He knows you’re not asking for a solution right now. You just need to say it out loud and get it out of your system. And usually, by the end of the call, your head is clear again. You’re ready to lead with calm conviction.

Personally, these kinds of friends have kept me from saying things I’d regret or making reactionary decisions. I’ll call one of them up, unload, get my balance back, and then go deal with the situation like a grown man with a calling—not a guy driven by adrenaline and stress.

You also need a range of voices. Older pastors who’ve seen the cycles and remind you to take the long view. Peers who are in the trenches and give you timely, unfiltered feedback. Younger guys you’re pouring into, who remind you of where you’ve been and help clarify what you really believe as you teach and lead them.

Each type of relationship offers something different. And if you don’t build those relationships on purpose, you’ll feel the absence sooner or later. You’ll either grow isolated and self-doubting, or worse, insulated and unteachable.

The truth is, you’re not meant to do this alone. The weight of pastoral ministry is heavy. You carry burdens most people don’t see, let alone understand. And even with a good team, you’re still just a man. You still need friends. Real ones. Especially outside your own walls.