I’ve been in youth ministry for almost two decades, and I’ve seen a lot of shed blood on my journey. I’ve seen youth pastors fall prey to a multitude of sins, sometimes with brutal consequences for themselves, their families and their calls to ministry.

When a series of inappropriate e-mail messages exchanged between a minister and a wife of another man was unknowingly forwarded to their friends, it was bad. When a CSI team—a real one, not the TV kind—cut carpet in the choir room to test for semen samples after a 13-year-old girl claimed she was abused by her youth pastor, it was very bad. One situation ended with janitors plucking skull fragments from the drywall after a friend in youth ministry killed himself because he could no longer deal with his secret sin.

In every situation, people were shocked: “But he was so happy,” they said. “We didn’t see this coming. …” “I never would have thought he was capable of that. …”

These cases aren’t the norm—but they aren’t uncommon either. What was wrong with these ministers-turned-perpetrators. Psychological autopsies provide the answer: They weren’t caring for their souls.

Preventative Soulcare

Americans are infamous for not taking care of themselves. We don’t exercise or eat right (unless we’re trying to lose 20 pounds before our high school reunion). We wait to see a physician or dentist until something doesn’t “feel right.” Preventative healthcare is always best, but sometimes we only seek help when it is too late to make a difference.

If we do not take care of ourselves in the physical realm, then it isn’t hard to assume we fail to care for the spiritual dimension of our lives, too. Preventative maintenance is what keeps a soul healthy. But as we seldom stop for a check-up or seek help, we don’t notice spiritual illness before it sets in.

In the summer of 2000, I received a call from a couple who were friends and also donors to WisdomWorks, our min­istry to teenagers and youth pastors. A spot had opened up at a Colorado retreat center for pastors called SonScape. I had heard about this ministry and their two decades of experience in healing troubled ministers and their spouses. This couple was willing to pay for us to attend the eight-day session if we were interested.

My wife, Jade, saw this as some much-needed time together; but I was hesitant. The time away sounded great, but the potential stigma was cause for concern. I didn’t want my attendance there to imply I had a problem or that our marriage was in jeopardy. We wrestled with the oppor­tunity and decided to go.

Making Space, Slowing Down

SonScape is just far enough up into the mountains outside of Colorado Springs to let you feel as though you are leaving your world behind to begin a great adventure, one from which you hope you will emerge a better person. It’s a small place—they only take four couples per ses­sion. But the accommodations are superb. Each couple has their own duplex, which makes the time away feel more like stay­ing at home than in a hotel.

After arriving, we were greeted by volunteers who would serve us that week—and they really did. They asked if I had a special cereal I liked. They tried not to laugh when I told them it was Count Chocula. Because it’s not available every­where, I told them not to worry about it. Nevertheless, they went to a new grocery store every day in search of the cereal. After multiple attempts, I was feeling guilty and settled for Lucky Charms; but I loved their effort. They were very atten­tive to Jade, as well.

We knew this was going to be a special week, but the blessings were more than we could have imagined. Each day we spent some time as a group discussing how we needed to make space in our lives and slow down. The encouragement went further by offering us lots of space to do just that. That’s likely the reason the session lasts eight days; you just can’t rush some learning moments. Every other day we met with the SonScape ministry leaders to discuss our lives more intimately (and confidentially). This pro­vided us with one-on-one encouragement and instruction. Jade and I quickly real­ized that while we may not have come into this week sensing any issues in our marriage or ministry, the rhythms of our lives could easily spin us into a crisis. We laid down our pride and acknowledged our fragility.

We spent a lot of time lying in a ham­mock, talking deeply about our marriage, our lives and the boundaries we should create to preserve ourselves from the constant challenges of ministry.

Sadly, the week had to end. Jade and I both cried as we placed our bags in the car. It had been a good week, but it would be more than a year later before we would come to realize the true impact of our time at SonScape.

Surviving a Crisis

The aftermath of Sept. 11 caught up to WisdomWorks, and we ended the fiscal year half-a-million dollars in the hole.

We didn’t see it coming. We were not prepared. We had to lay off not only employees, but dear friends who had journeyed with us for many years in min­istry. The pain was agonizing. I don’t know about your financial standing, but I didn’t have an extra half-million to bail us out. And at that time, few people did. The nation was taking a financial hit. What was God doing?

Some godly businessmen counseled me that it would probably be three years before we could recover. Three years! The agony of owing so much money already felt unbearable—and it had only been a matter of weeks! How could I sur­vive for three years, or possibly more?

I felt like Job, with people giving advice me on every side. “Go bankrupt,” someone said. “Sell your house,” another advised. “Are you sure you are qualified to do this? …” “Obviously God didn’t want you to do this or He would provide. …”

In addition to the financial pressures, our ministry team faced morale issues. Our working environment now seemed unstable. We were dealing with the pain of losing team members who had meant a lot to us. Many, while professing to be confident in God’s provision, were seeking their own solutions. It seemed things could never get better.

Then the phone rang. It was a distant friend in ministry, a mature man of God for whom I had much admiration. The first question he asked was, “How is your marriage doing?” I told him that, in fact, my family was the one area that was going well. He asked to speak to my wife. Jade confirmed my confidence. I remem­ber him asking, “What are you doing that is keeping your family so together? In most circumstances like yours, the crisis usually gets the attention and the family tensions escalate.”

I thought about it and realized it was the boundaries and rhythms we had put into practice at SonScape. The external world was crumbling around us, but our inner lives were solid. Our spiritual health was benefiting from the preventa­tive maintenance of the soul.

The Cared-For Soul

Sadly, pride can keep us from seeking to learn the practice of spiritual health. We convince ourselves that we’re fine. Present indicators may support that, but what about when circumstances change? Are we healthy enough to endure the critical times, as well?

Over the last several years, Jade and I have offered to pay for couples in min­istry to attend SonScape as our guests. Some have been in moderate need; others have been in the midst of crisis. Not one couple has taken us up on our offer, and few have survived.

Stop. Slow down. Ask for help. Care for your soul.

It has been years since those events fol­lowing Sept. 11 took place. I’m happy to say God saw us through that time, providing for our needs as well as those to whom we owed money. It feels great when storms pass, but there is always a storm on the horizon. I’m blessed to have had few tragic events in my life. But when they come, we need to be ready. The soul needs consis­tent care and attention.

Three months ago, our daughter, Skye, was diagnosed with type I diabetes, turning our world upside down. Once again, we saw the enduring power of car­ing for the soul. Even when we felt things were falling apart, Skye’s nurses and physicians commented on how well we were handling the crisis. It wasn’t us, I’d tell them, it was the power of the Lord. The condition of our souls was a witness to those around us. They could see the difference in our interior lives even though it was not readily apparent to us.

When the winds are on the waters, can you sleep in the boat? The cared-for soul can.

–Mark Matlock is the president of WisdomWorks Ministries, which runs PlanetWisdom Conferences and the Web site PlanetWisdom.com. Matlock is the author of several books for students, including What Does God Want From Me? (Youth Specialties/Zondervan, 2007) and, with Christopher Lyon, Living a Life That Matters (Youth Specialties/Zondervan, 2005). He lives in Texas with his wife, Jade, and children, Dax and Skye.