The $179 Investment Saving My Ministry

The box sat in my hallway for two days, taunting me.

I ordered it on vacation in Costa Rica after my sons ganged up on me. "Dad, you need something small. Something you can't ignore. Something that doesn't require you to stop working completely—because we both know you won't."

They know me too well.

My pattern is predictable: I jump in feet first with some grand plan. Swim seven days a week. Commit to doing a Murph every morning. Map out a training schedule to summit Everest. Buy the equipment, download the app, tell everyone I'm doing it.

And within three weeks, it's dead in the water.

Not because I don't care about my health. I'm committed to my body. But because I care about everything else more. Or at least, that's how I've been living.

So when I got home from Costa Rica, there it was. A walking pad. $179. Flat. Simple. Sits on the floor in my office until I need it.

And for two days, I walked past it without opening the box.

You know why? Because I was waiting for the "right time." Waiting until I wasn't so busy. Waiting until I had my post-vacation schedule figured out. Waiting until I could commit to doing it "properly."

Classic pastor logic.

The System That Actually Works

On day four, I finally opened the box. Downloaded the app. Set it up in five minutes. And then I did something I've never done before—I scheduled my coaching calls at the same time every day—and set alarms to match.

10:30 AM. 3:00 PM.

When the alarm goes off, I turn on the walking pad, call a pastor, and walk while we talk. Twenty minutes. 1 mile.  That's it. I don't change clothes. I don't put on my Mr. Rogers sneakers. I don't carve out extra time. I just redeem time I was already spending.

Forty minutes a day. Two birds, one stone. Not heroic. Not impressive. Not Instagram-worthy.

Just sustainable.

Here's what I've learned in the eight days since I started—the alarm is everything. Not the walking pad. Not my willpower. Not my commitment to self-care. The alarm—tied to something I was already going to do. Because when it goes off, I don't have to decide anything. I don't have to evaluate whether I have time. I don't have to weigh my health against whatever feels urgent in the moment.

I just get on.

The Deeper Problem

I'm telling you about a walking pad, but I'm really telling you about something broken in how most of us do ministry.

We shoehorn our lives into ministry instead of fitting ministry into our lives.

We skip meals because there's always one more thing. We cancel date nights because someone in the congregation is in crisis—and aren't their needs more urgent than dinner with your spouse? We work through sickness because the sermon won't write itself. The hospital visits won't make themselves. And the elders meeting won't reschedule itself. We treat rest like something we'll earn eventually, once we've finally done enough.

But "enough" never comes. And we know it.

We wait for permission to take care of ourselves—permission from our schedule, our congregation, our sense of calling. We tell ourselves we'll rest when things slow down, knowing full well that they never do. We treat our health like a luxury we'll get to eventually, when it's actually the foundation on which everything else depends.

And we wonder why 42% of pastors seriously considered quitting in 2022. Why high-risk burnout has nearly quadrupled since 2015—from 11% to 40%. Why so many of us are slowly dying while faithfully serving.

Something is deeply broken in the system. I've spent years naming it—what it is, where it comes from, and how to break free. More on that soon.

But for now, I want to ask you a simple question:

What's your walking pad?

What's the one small, sustainable, hard-to-ignore change you could make this week? Not a heroic overhaul. Not a comprehensive wellness plan. Just one thing. Tied to something you're already doing. That doesn't require extra time or permission from anyone.

Two weeks into 2026, most resolutions are already dead. But small things with systems? Those actually stick.

Your move.

• • •

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About the Author

Tim Eldred has been serving in pastoral ministry for over three decades and has had the privilege of training and mentoring thousands of pastors in over 40 countries. He is the founder of The Authentic Pastor. Most importantly, he is a husband, father, and grandfather.