You shepherd your flock. You pour out without ceasing. You carry what most men never will. Someone needs to shepherd you. That's what this is for.
This may be the most needed service on this page. It is also the one most likely to be resisted by the men who need it most. If you're a pastor reading this, you already know why.
You are the one people come to. You are not supposed to need help. Asking for it feels like weakness. Worse — it feels like a liability. What would people think? What would it mean for your ministry, your credibility, your calling?
So you keep carrying it. You keep pouring out. You keep showing up for everyone else. And quietly, privately — the cup runs dry.
Here is something worth sitting with: all the strongest men I know have a coach. All the best coaches I know have a coach. I have a coach. Needing one is not a sign that something is wrong with you. It is a sign that you take your calling seriously enough to invest in it. Every pastor should have a coach.
The Bible is not silent on this. Jethro looked at Moses — burning out, judging Israel alone from morning to evening — and said plainly: what you are doing is not good. Moses needed counsel. Moses received it. And the work of the Lord was better for it.
There is wisdom in many counselors. That was written for you too.
"What you are doing is not good. You and these people who come to you will only wear yourselves out. The work is too heavy for you; you cannot handle it alone."
"Plans fail for lack of counsel, but with many advisers they succeed."
Before I came to faith, I was sitting in a church pew when a voice spoke to me. I didn't know where it was from — but I knew what to do. I started by making sure to thank the Pastor after every sermon. Not criticism, not questions. Just appreciation. I volunteered for every need, asking nothing in return. I served. I gave. I poured. It wasn't until after I came to faith that I understood: the Holy Spirit had spoken to me before I even believed — and He had given me an assignment.
That assignment didn't come out of nowhere. My whole life, I have been drawn to leaders. As a junior Marine, I worked closely with officers and senior enlisted. I was trusted to understand the mission and support it. I got a close look at what serious leadership actually costs — the weight, the responsibility, the criticism from every direction, the impossible balancing of competing demands. I understand what it requires of a man. Loyalty, privacy, and counsel have always come naturally to me. I didn't manufacture that. It was given.
And then the Lord took me into the church. I have sat and served on church council. I have volunteered and given myself to serve in any way needed — not from the pew, but from inside the work. I have seen the church behind the curtain: the daily decisions, the weight of leadership that the congregation never sees, the cost of carrying a congregation's needs on a man's shoulders week after week. I have given sermons. I have led Sunday school. I know what it does to a man to stand before people and give — and then walk off the platform and still be the one everyone needs something from.
I have had the privilege of walking alongside multiple pastors — head pastors, associate pastors, youth pastors — in trusted confidence. Encouraging them. Listening without an agenda. Holding what they shared with loyalty and care. Helping them with their physical health when ministry had taken it last.
I am not a pastor. I am not trying to be. I am a man who was assigned to help the ones who are. And I take that seriously.
My purpose is not to evangelize the already evangelized — it is to build the Church. That means coming alongside you without an agenda, without a theological axe to grind, and without any interest in telling you what you already know. What I bring is a fresh set of eyes, a loyal confidence, and the tools to help you sustain what God has called you to build.
Who encourages the encourager? Who shepherds the shepherd? Who carries some of what the man in the pulpit is carrying — so he can keep standing in it?
That is what I am here for.
What you share stays between us. Full stop. A safe space to be honest about what you're actually carrying — without fear of it affecting your ministry, your congregation, or your reputation.
The conversations you can't have with your elders, your staff, or your congregation. Someone outside the system who has no stake in the outcome — only in your wellbeing.
Not a lecture. Not another voice telling you what you already know. A brother who will open the Word with you, pray with you, and remind you who you are when the weight makes it hard to see.
Your body is last on every pastor's list. It shouldn't be. Customized fitness coaching built around a ministry schedule — because a healthy shepherd leads longer and better.
Building the rhythms that make ministry sustainable — rest, margin, physical discipline, and the daily practices that keep your cup full enough to keep giving from it.
Ministry costs families more than most congregations ever know. Coaching that recognizes the man behind the pastor — husband, father, son — and fights for those relationships too.
This is not only for senior pastors at large churches. The associate who carries the work without the title. The youth pastor who pours into teenagers every week and has no one pouring into him. The church planter running on fumes. The pastor who has been at it for twenty years and feels something slipping.
If you carry the weight of a congregation — at any level — this is for you.
The most effective leaders in any field invest in coaching. Pastors are no different — except the stakes are higher. This is not a luxury. It is a calculated investment in the sustainability of your calling and the health of everyone depending on you.
First call is always free and fully confidential. You don't have to decide anything. Just talk.
Everything shared in coaching stays in coaching. Ronald has no affiliation with your church, your denomination, or your leadership structure. He has no stake in your ministry politics and no agenda beyond your wellbeing. What you share here does not leave this relationship.
"The one who calls you is faithful, and he will do it."
"You cannot pour from an empty cup. The Lord Himself said it: apart from Me, you can do nothing. He told Peter the key to all ministry — 'Do you love me? Feed my sheep.' You cannot feed what you will not tend. Let someone tend to you."
— Ronald D. Potts
The first call is free, fully confidential, and carries no obligation. Just a conversation — honest, private, and entirely for you.