There are days I wake up and worry about my own soul. Not in a dramatic or despairing way, but in the quiet and sobering realization that my inner life—my time with Jesus, my pursuit of holiness, my spiritual hunger—can grow thin without much warning. Compared to the saints who carved hours out of their day to be with the Lord, my few moments in prayer or reflection sometimes feel pitifully insufficient. I grieve not just for myself, but for the world around me, especially the Christian leaders who are crumbling under the weight of internal decay. It’s become far too common: the collapse of pastors, ministry heads, worship leaders—those we once looked to as spiritual guides. These are not just moral failures; they are spiritual implosions. They are not the result of sudden temptations, nor are they a sign of some hidden defect unique to those individuals. They are the outcome of neglected souls. Men and women who once professed devotion to Christ now embrace ideologies and lifestyles antithetical to the gospel they once proclaimed. Why? Because, I believe, they stopped sitting at the feet of Jesus. The Root of the Fall: Neglecting the Inner Life Many spiritual leaders fall not because they wake up one day and decide to sin, but because they’ve slowly stopped tending to their souls. They stop meditating on Scripture (Psalm 1:2), neglect prayer (Luke 5:16), abandon silence and solitude (Mark 1:35), and forsake study and community (Acts 2:42). In the void, ego and performance creep in. Their ministries may grow, but their souls shrink. They become platforms without presence. As Dallas Willard (2002) once wrote, “The most important thing in your life is not what you do; it’s who you become” (p. 23). We often miss this because we reward charisma over character. We platform the gifted instead of the spiritually grounded. A.W. Tozer (1961) warned that a person can be right in doctrine but still spiritually hollow. “We have been snared in the coils of a spurious logic,” he wrote, “which insists that if we have found Him, we need no more seek Him” (p. 15). But the Bible never teaches that spiritual health is a one-time transaction—it is a daily surrender. What Scripture Teaches About Intimacy with God Scripture offers no category for leaders who follow God without being with God. Jesus Himself modeled solitude as essential for ministry. Mark records, “Very early in the morning, while it was still dark, Jesus got up, left the house and went off to a solitary place, where he prayed” (Mark 1:35, ESV). This moment comes immediately after a night of miraculous healings. If the Son of God needed time in solitude with the Father, how much more do we? The Psalms speak constantly of the one who delights in the law of the Lord and meditates day and night (Psalm 1:2). This is not a metaphorical suggestion—it is the prescription for a spiritually rooted life. In the New Testament, Paul exhorts us to “pray without ceasing” (1 Thessalonians 5:17, ESV) and to be “transformed by the renewing of your mind” (Romans 12:2, ESV). Transformation does not happen by accident. It is the result of practices and presence. R. Kent Hughes (2001) explains that discipline is the key to godliness. “There is no such thing as a drift toward holiness,” he writes. “We will not grow in godliness without intentionally pursuing it” (p. 14). And this intentionality, he argues, is rooted in daily habits of spiritual discipline. The Slow Drift of Isolation When spiritual leaders fall, it often comes after long seasons of isolation—emotional, relational, and spiritual. They are physically surrounded by people but relationally alone. Their marriages are strained. Friendships have atrophied. There is no one who knows their soul. Mark Sayers (2019) describes this condition as a crisis of “non-place,” where we lose anchoring to sacred space, community, or regular formation. In such environments, digital distractions and moral relativism thrive. Leaders often become isolated because they confuse public influence with private intimacy. Their identity is swallowed by their role. John Mark Comer (2019) observes that many leaders suffer from “hurry sickness,” where the soul is constantly overstimulated but never deeply formed. “If you want to experience the life of Jesus, you have to adopt the lifestyle of Jesus” (p. 49). That includes early mornings of solitude, long stretches of silence, and submission to the Father’s will. A Dangerous God, A Holy Invitation Some fear drawing near to God because He is “dangerous”—and rightly so. Hebrews 12:29 reminds us, “Our God is a consuming fire.” He is holy. He is not tame. And yet, in His holiness, He invites us in through the sacrifice of Christ. Alistair Begg (2005) reminds us that the call of Christ is not to safety but to surrender. “The issue is not whether we are comfortable with God’s holiness,” he writes, “but whether we are willing to be conformed to it” (p. 77). In this sense, God is dangerous not because He harms, but because He transforms. He burns away pride, ego, and sin. He uproots idols. He calls us to die daily (Luke 9:23). But in this danger, there is love. There is life. As John Tyson (2021) explains, the holiness of God is both terrifying and beautiful because it leads us into the kind of life we were made for—one marked by purity, humility, and intimacy with Jesus. Developing the Inner Life in Counseling and Leadership As a professor and counselor, I often share this burden with my colleagues. Clinical excellence is essential, but it is not sufficient. We must form the person, not just the professional. My dean has often emphasized this, calling us to focus not only on skills, but on the soul of the therapist-in-training. Without spiritual formation, our work in mental health becomes technique without transformation. If we graduate counselors who know how to listen but do not know how to kneel in prayer, we have failed. If we develop clinicians who can diagnose but cannot disciple themselves, we have failed. As Tozer (1961) warned, the church is in danger when its leaders are “learned but not godly” (p. 26). The danger is not external persecution, but internal erosion. Dallas Willard (1998) famously wrote that “the most important thing about you is not the things you achieve, but the person you become” (p. xii). This is doubly true for those in leadership, whose failures ripple far beyond their own lives. Our families watch us. Our children watch us. Our spouses see through the professional veneer. We must submit ourselves to Christ, and to our loved ones, daily. A Call to Sacred Rhythms Each day I wake with a renewed responsibility to sit at the feet of Jesus. Some days I fail. Other days I succeed. But I never forget that my very soul depends on this pursuit. I want my children to see in me a life that is deeply rooted in Christ. I want them to see that television, phones, and the noise of culture cannot satisfy like Jesus can. I want them to learn habits I never did—habits of meditation, silence, community, and sacred rhythm. As Richard Foster (1998) noted, spiritual disciplines are not about legalism; they are about life. “The purpose of the disciplines is liberation from the stifling slavery to self-interest and fear” (p. 6). They lead us into freedom, not bondage. They align our souls with the God who made us. Experience Deeper Stillness with the Sanctuary App If you’re longing to develop a sacred rhythm in your own life—a habit of silence, Scripture meditation, and time with Jesus—I invite you to explore the Sanctuary app. Designed for Christian leaders, counselors, and everyday believers, the app offers guided Lectio Divina, mood tracking, spiritual discipline resources, and space for personal reflection. It’s a companion for the journey of abiding in Christ. Begin cultivating your time at His feet today: 👉 https://app--sanctuary-scripture-meditation-a8a25080.base44.app Let us not wait until collapse reveals the cracks. Let us form habits today that shape us into the image of Christ. Let us sit at His feet, meditate on His word, delight in His presence, and invite others into the journey. Because when leaders fall, it is often not from a single decision—but from a slow drift. And the only way to avoid that drift is to anchor our lives in Jesus, again and again. References Begg, A. (2005). Made for His pleasure: Ten benchmarks of a vital faith. Moody Publishers. Comer, J. M. (2019). The ruthless elimination of hurry. WaterBrook. Foster, R. J. (1998). Celebration of discipline: The path to spiritual growth (Rev. ed.). HarperOne. Hughes, R. K. (2001). Disciplines of a godly man. Crossway. Sayers, M. (2019). Reappearing church: The hope for renewal in the rise of our post-Christian culture. Moody Publishers. Tozer, A. W. (1961). The pursuit of God. Christian Publications. Tyson, J. (2021). Beautiful resistance: The joy of conviction in a culture of compromise. Multnomah. Willard, D. (1998). The divine conspiracy: Rediscovering our hidden life in God. HarperOne. Willard, D. (2002). Renovation of the heart: Putting on the character of Christ. NavPress.

Dr. Andrew R. Wichterman, LPC There was a time early in my counseling career—back in the days of home-based therapy and community mental health—when I still believed that professionalism alone could carry the weight of this work. I was several years in, working with families in one of the tougher areas of town. One family in particular had a reputation for appearing put together, at least externally. But once inside the home, it was clear there was a deep well of unresolved anger and dysfunction. The father was particularly volatile. He also enjoyed cultivating his own marijuana—well before it was legal in our state. The teenage son, understandably angry himself, had been caught showing off his dad’s stash to another kid in the bed of a broken-down truck parked on the property. That stunt, with a side of reckless driving, landed him in the probation system, and eventually in my office. At the time, I was acting part counselor, part case manager—navigating probation, school complications, family conflict, and trauma exposure all at once. But over time, this young man began to make real progress. He slowly started distancing himself from his father's influence and began to walk a different path—one his mother had long hoped for. Eventually, we closed his case. Then One Day, I Saw Him Again I was walking into the probation office, and there he stood—smiling, full of pride. He told me, “I'm about to get my driver’s license.” And without even thinking, I laughed. Not the warm kind of laugh. A short, almost scoffing kind of laugh—something that bubbled up from a dark corner within me that I wasn’t proud of. Just a few years prior, this same teen had been on probation in part for reckless driving. So the idea of him getting licensed felt ironic. But that wasn’t an excuse. Not really. I quickly apologized: “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to laugh.” He responded with a smirk and said, “Yeah you do. It’s kind of funny.” He took it well. But it really bothered me. The Counselor’s Internal Work Where did that laugh come from? That scoff? That brief flicker of superiority? I’ve revisited that moment again and again over the years—sometimes in supervision with other therapists, sometimes in quiet moments of prayer, sometimes when mentoring students. The truth is, that laugh came from a place within me that had not yet been refined. It came from pride. It came from thinking I was better than the people I was serving. It came from a heart that needed sanctification. And it raised a question that every Christian counselor should ask themselves: What are we doing if we can't respect the people we are called to serve? The Need for Refinement at the Feet of Jesus At the core of this work is not skill, education, or even years of experience. Those things help, certainly. But the foundation must be a life continually refined at the feet of Jesus. It is in His presence—consistently, humbly, and quietly—that the counselor becomes who they are meant to be. Like Peter by the fire (John 18:15–18, 25–27), or Mary at His feet (Luke 10:38–42), or Paul in the quiet years after Damascus (Acts 9:1–19; Galatians 1:17–18), the soul must be shaped before the work of the hands can be holy. We are not simply behavior managers. We are image-bearers reflecting the light of Christ into dark and fractured places. And that means we must be remade—over and over again—until we reflect Him more clearly. Community: The Context for Formation You can practice every spiritual discipline there is—prayer, fasting, study, silence—but if you do it in isolation, you will miss something essential. The formation of the therapist, like the formation of the believer, is meant to happen in community. We need the body of Christ around us—mentors who will call us out, brothers and sisters who will bear our burdens, friends who will sharpen us like iron sharpens iron (Proverbs 27:17). We need those who will say, That didn’t sound like Jesus, and those who will remind us of grace when we fall short. A Call to Be Always Becoming That young man, by God’s grace, had changed. He had overcome. He was doing what many thought he couldn’t. And in a single moment, I almost stole from him the dignity of that progress. He had been becoming. But so should I. We should always be inching closer to Christ. We should always be becoming more gentle, more kind, more respectful. Not out of obligation, but because our King is gentle, kind, and respectful. Because that’s what it means to shine His light. Final Reflection This work—Christian counseling, spiritual care, walking with the wounded—is sacred. And sacred work requires a sanctified heart. Not a perfect one. But one willing to be broken open and made new, again and again. So to you, fellow counselor, student, or spiritual leader: Sit at the feet of Jesus. Let Him refine what still needs changing. Do not scoff at growth, no matter how small. Practice the disciplines, yes. But also live in communion with others. And never forget: even the smallest victories in your clients' lives deserve your awe, not your cynicism. Because in the Kingdom of God, reckless drivers still get licenses. And scoffing counselors still get sanctified. References The Holy Bible, English Standard Version. (2001). Crossway Bibles. (Original work published 1971) Acts 9:1–19 — Paul’s conversion and encounter with Christ on the road to Damascus Galatians 1:17–18 — Paul’s time in Arabia before beginning public ministry John 18:15–18, 25–27 — Peter’s denial of Jesus beside the fire Luke 10:38–42 — Mary sitting at Jesus’ feet while Martha works Proverbs 27:17 — “Iron sharpens iron, and one man sharpens another.”