David Yarbrough remembers standing at the back of the sanctuary as his congregation worshiped. His heart was racing, he was trembling, and he felt like he was going to die.
Then he looked to the front of the church and saw five men and their families. That gave him strength.
“I knew they were with me,” he said.
A couple of years ago, as Yarbrough—lead pastor of The Bridge Fellowship Church in Martin’s Mill—approached 25 years in ministry, he wasn’t sure he was going to last much longer. At the time, he was weathering public criticism on social media—aimed at both himself and the church—while also shouldering the emotional and financial strain of his 87-year-old mother’s declining health.
“It was just more than I could take at that time,” Yarbrough recalled. He told his wife he was hanging by a thread, about to break. “I had never felt like that before.”
Yarbrough and his wife finally were able to retreat to Oklahoma for a couple of days. While away, he watched a podcast interview with a pastor who mentioned he surrounds himself with a group of five men in his church for accountability and encouragement.
God had already provided five men Yarbrough felt he could count on, so he asked them to meet at his house at 6 p.m. on a Thursday. All of them agreed, and though they already knew he was under more pressure than usual, they learned that night the extent of his stress.
“It wasn’t just that I wanted to step away from ministry,” he said. “I was at the point where I was ready to step away from life.”
That Thursday night, the five men started speaking encouragement into the pastor’s life. They prayed for him and decided to meet weekly. “They were coming to rescue me,” Yarbrough said.
Despite the new group, the pastor continued to struggle. As he made the 20-minute drive to church on Sunday mornings, he repeatedly would get physically ill. The morning he stood at the back of the sanctuary, trembling, he had just come from his office when he experienced the first panic attack of his life.
“I never really knew what burnout was like,” he said, describing it now as being so empty he had nothing left to give. “It wasn’t that I didn’t want to preach anymore. It wasn’t that I didn’t love the people anymore. It’s just that I didn’t have anything in the tank.”
As the meetings continued, Yarbrough asked the five men to share about their lives, too, and the group would encourage one another and pray. Most Thursdays, they would spend as many as five hours together.
“You would think that their wives and children would not want them doing that because they lose a whole Thursday night,” he said, “but [because of] what they were getting back in return, they wanted them to go because they were seeing the transformation that was taking place in their lives.”