By Nicholas DeYoung

One of the hardest lessons I’ve learned in ministry is this: you can’t lead people somewhere you’re not willing to go yourself.

I wish I could say I learned it the easy way—through wise counsel, intentional rhythms, and humble obedience. But the truth is, I learned it the way a lot of leaders do: by running myself into the ground and realizing I was teaching things I wasn’t living.

We don’t neglect our discipleship on purpose. Most of us step into leadership because we love Jesus and want others to know Him. We want our lives to make a difference for the Kingdom. But over time, our own journey with Christ can quietly slip into the background. Sermon prep becomes our “Bible time.” Staff meetings, counseling sessions, and ministry events feel like “spiritual work,” so we start to treat them like they’re a substitute for personal prayer or Scripture reading. We become busy about God’s work without actually being with God.

The Myth of “I’m Fine”

Leaders are some of the best at convincing themselves they’re fine. I’ve done it more times than I can count. We tell ourselves the schedule will settle down next month, or that we’ll take a retreat once things feel more stable. We rationalize skipping a quiet morning with the Lord because we spent three hours preparing a message yesterday. And we let ourselves believe the false logic that if we’re leading others, we must be growing too.

But the truth is, none of that guarantees we’re being shaped into the likeness of Christ. If anything, ministry without intentional discipleship tends to form us in other ways—ways we don’t always see at first. Stress starts to shape our reflexes. The need to meet expectations begins to shape our decisions. The constant output of leadership forms us into doers, but not necessarily into Christlike people.

And here’s the dangerous part: people will still follow us. They’ll still tell us the sermon was great. The church may still grow in numbers. The programs may run smoothly. From the outside, things can look healthier than they actually are. But inside, we can be slowly drying out, running on fumes, and convincing ourselves it’s normal.

The Slow Leak

Neglecting your own discipleship isn’t usually a dramatic collapse—it’s more like a slow leak. At first, you don’t notice it. But over time, patience starts running low. You feel more irritable, more defensive. Your prayers feel mechanical, like you’re just moving your lips while your mind is somewhere else. You realize you haven’t cracked open the Bible lately without a deadline attached to it.

Then one day, it hits you: the fruit you’re offering to others doesn’t taste fresh anymore. The joy is gone. The compassion is thin. You can still function as a leader, but the deep well you used to draw from is running shallow.

I’ve been there. And it’s humbling to admit that some of my driest seasons in leadership were also the seasons that looked the most “successful” on the outside. I was checking every box, delivering every message, showing up at every event—and yet I was living disconnected from the One I was telling everyone else to follow.

The Better Way

Jesus never called leaders to be the exception to discipleship. He didn’t tell Peter, “Feed my sheep, but don’t worry about following me yourself.” In fact, He modeled something completely different—He spent intentional, unhurried time with the Father.

Leading yourself first means carving out space to be with Jesus without an agenda. It means letting Scripture speak to youbefore you try to package it for someone else. It means honest confession, not just to God in the quiet, but to other trusted people who can see your blind spots and speak truth into your life. It means recognizing that rest isn’t laziness—it’s part of obedience. And it means going back to the basics: prayer that isn’t just for the needs of the church, worship that isn’t just on a stage, service that isn’t part of your job description.

This isn’t about cramming more into your schedule. It’s about recognizing that your entire schedule—your whole life—needs to rest on Christ as its foundation. When you lead out of overflow instead of scarcity, you’re able to serve without resentment, to speak without self-protection, and to love without running dry.

My Ongoing Fight

I wish I could tell you I’ve mastered this, but I haven’t. I still have to catch myself when my devotional time turns into sermon prep. I still feel the pull to choose productivity over prayer. I still battle the thought that “just getting things done” is somehow the same as being faithful.

But I’m slowly learning that leading myself first isn’t selfish—it’s stewardship. It’s protecting the one thing my church, my family, and my community truly need from me: a life that’s genuinely rooted in Jesus. The longer I’m in leadership, the more I realize that people don’t just need my ideas, strategies, or energy. They need to see that my own walk with Christ is real, that it’s ongoing, and that it matters more to me than the role I fill.

If you’re leading in any capacity—whether it’s a church, a team, a small group, or your family—please don’t skip your own discipleship. Don’t let the slow leak turn into a dry well. Go first. Let Jesus form you in the hidden places before you try to shape anyone else.

Because at the end of the day, the people you lead don’t just need your words.

They need your life.