Somewhere along the way, many of us were taught that to be in ministry means to always say yes.
Yes to the extra meeting.
Yes to the midnight crisis.
Yes to stretching a little further, staying a little longer, offering a little more.
And yes, ministry is a calling of deep generosity.
But boundless giving is not the same as faithful service.
Over time, that kind of ministry—ministry without boundaries—becomes a slow erosion.
Not just of time.
Not just of energy.
But of soul.
When we give without limits, we begin to disappear.
But here’s the truth, held tenderly in the Gospel:
Saying “no” can be an act of holy love.
Jesus said no.
No to the crowds when he needed solitude.
No to the demands of the powerful.
No to the expectations of those who wanted him to be something he wasn’t.
Jesus didn’t shape his ministry around people-pleasing.
He shaped it around truth.
And truth requires space.
Space to breathe.
Space to rest.
Space to listen to God.
Space to honor your own limits without shame.
Boundaries are not walls of selfishness.
They are borders of clarity and care—where we define what is ours to carry, and what is not.
For those in ministry, setting boundaries can feel disloyal.
Like we’re letting someone down.
But in reality, boundaries are what allow us to show up fully present and truly free.
They protect our time, yes.
But more importantly, they protect the sacredness of our “yes”.
Because when we learn to say “no” from a place of love,
our “yes” carries more weight, more grace, more truth.
Boundaries don’t make us less loving.
They make our love more sustainable.
And in a Church that often confuses exhaustion with holiness,
this is a lesson worth learning again and again:
You are not God. And you don’t have to be.