Have you ever looked at your to-do list and felt utterly exhausted before even beginning? Have you found yourself saying yes to one more thing, even when you know you’re already stretched too thin? Do you feel resentment creeping in, even toward the good things in your life?
I’ve been there.
Not long ago, I found myself staring at my overstuffed to-do list, drained. It was packed with commitments: leading a church project, volunteering for a community event, helping a friend move, and balancing work and family responsibilities. What once brought me joy now felt like a weight I could barely carry.
I was bitter. I was burned out. And I wondered: How did I get here?
Then it hit me: I had fallen into what I now call the plight of the highly capable person.
As I looked around, I realized I wasn’t alone. I started noticing the same exhaustion in my clients, friends, and colleagues—people who were strong, competent, and resourceful but also weary and resentful.
Highly capable people (HCPs) are the ones everyone turns to because they get things done. They’re reliable. They’re efficient. They handle things no one else wants to. But here’s the problem: their competence makes them a magnet for endless requests, responsibilities, and expectations.
And because they can do it, they often say yes—even when it’s not aligned with their values, passions, or calling.
In a church or ministry setting, this becomes even more complicated. We convince ourselves, If it’s for God, it must be right. But the truth is: just because you can do something doesn’t mean you should.
One of the hardest lessons I’ve learned is that every “yes” comes with a cost.
At first, I didn’t fully grasp how much energy it takes to tend to the core commitments of my life—my relationship with God, my family, my work. These aren’t just bullet points on a list; they require deep investment, presence, and intentionality to steward well.
Yet in a culture that prizes efficiency and productivity, we often sacrifice connection in the name of accomplishment. And while society may celebrate this, I don’t believe God sees it the same way.
When I prioritize what God has entrusted to me—my faith, my marriage, my children, my clients—I quickly realize something: there’s not much room left for everything else. Sure, there’s space for some things, but not much. And if I want to steward my life well, I have to be intentional about my yeses.
We have a gross misunderstanding of what we are truly capable of doing well versus what we can simply accomplish. Those are two very different things.
And it’s this misunderstanding that fuels the plight of the highly capable person.
I’ve met many clients who serve tirelessly, yet their marriages feel distant, their children feel unseen, and their personal faith is running on fumes. Their desire to help has turned into a stumbling block, interfering with the very relationships that matter most.
When we take on too much, we don’t just risk burnout. We risk losing the very connection and purpose God designed us to prioritize.
And here’s another cost we rarely talk about:
When we always step in, we rob others of the chance to step up.
You didn’t become highly capable overnight. It happened through experience, trial, and error. But when we constantly fill the gaps, we widen the divide—keeping others from developing the same skills, resilience, and spiritual growth.
What if, instead of always saying yes, we started inviting others in? What if we gave someone else the opportunity to rise?
Empowering others not only relieves our burden, but it also creates a ripple effect of growth, strength, and connection. Watching someone step into their potential can be just as fulfilling—if not more—than doing it all yourself.
The antidote to the plight of the highly capable person? Boundaries.
Boundaries aren’t selfish—they’re an act of stewardship.
Even Jesus set boundaries. He didn’t meet every need or respond to every demand. He stayed focused on His mission and frequently withdrew to be alone with God (Mark 1:35-38).
If Jesus needed boundaries, how much more do we?
Boundaries also honor God by acknowledging He is in control, not us. When we say no to things that don’t align with His will for us, we give Him space to work through others and trust Him with the outcomes.
If you’re feeling the weight of being highly capable, I encourage you to pause and reflect:
If you need to decline, here’s one way to say no gracefully:
“I’ve thought and prayed about this, and while I deeply care about this cause, I need to decline at this time. Adding it to my plate would take away from other commitments that require my focus. However, I’d love to support in another way, like [praying, recommending someone else, or helping next year].”
Many highly capable people believe, If I don’t do it, it won’t get done.
But here’s the truth: God doesn’t need you to carry the load. That’s His job.
From our limited perspective, the task may seem all-important. But from God’s perspective, the point of service isn’t just the outcome—it’s connection with Him through the process.
When we reach burnout, it’s often because our focus has shifted away from that connection. Our service becomes about results rather than relationship.
I don’t believe God ever intended for us to do things for Him or apart from Him. He wants us to do things with Him.
So, to my fellow highly capable person: You are not the solution to every need. You are not the answer to every problem. Your yeses should be intentional, prayerful, and in alignment with God’s unique calling on your life.
Because when we serve with Him, rather than for Him, we find the peace, joy, and purpose we were created for.