The Forgotten Command: Loving Yourself

Is our misinterpretation of the Great Commandment sabotaging how we live out the Great Commission? I believe it is—and here’s why.

Today’s followers of Jesus are rarely criticized for loving too much. More often, we’re seen as judgmental, critical, and harsh. It often looks like we are exporting not only our gospel message but also our Western cultural ways and unhealthy ministry patterns. But that is not the only challenge in missions today.

The Great Commandment is often cited as: “Love the Lord your God with all your heart, soul, mind, and strength, and love your neighbor as yourself.” But we tend to skip over or misinterpret that last part, “as yourself.” Loving yourself is a prerequisite to loving others with the love of Christ.

Yet many Christians, especially those raised in the Church, internalized a message that self-love is selfish. Remember the Sunday school mantra? J-O-Y: Jesus, Others, and You. It implied that you were last on the list deserving love.

What if we turned the commandment around? “The way you love yourself will be the way you love others—and even the way you relate to God.” That question becomes urgent: Do you love yourself? If the answer is no, your love for others—and your ability to fully receive God’s love—may also be distorted.

Misplaced Zeal and the Myth of Burnout for Jesus

In missionary work, self-sacrifice is often seen as the pinnacle of faithfulness. We admire the stories of those who gave up everything—comfort, safety, family, even life—for the sake of the gospel. But behind this noble tradition can lurk a dangerous misconception: Caring for yourself is selfish and contrary to the gospel.

In truth, sustainable, Spirit-led ministry begins with healthy rhythms of love and care for ourselves while doing what God has called us to do. The Great Commission is daunting—“to all the world”—and it’s tempting to pour ourselves out until we’re running on empty. Burnout is worn like a badge of honor. But when we neglect our physical, emotional, and spiritual well-being, we offer a depleted self in service. That often leads to resentment, reactivity, and robotic ministry, short-circuiting the compassion of Jesus we long to share.

Philippians 2 encourages us to look out not only for our own interests but also for the interests of others. That assumes we have the capacity to do both. There are times to pour ourselves out, yes, but that cannot be sustained long term without breaking.

Self-care only becomes selfish when it is self-centered. But when rooted in humility and dependence on God, it becomes a powerful act of faith. It’s a way of showing that the kingdom does not depend on our effort or urgency. It is important not to ignore your limits but to steward your energy, time, money, and health.

Jesus Modeled a Life of Rest & Renewal

Jesus is our example. He often withdrew to quiet places to pray, to rest, to refuel. In Mark 6:31, he calls his disciples to, “Come with me by yourselves to a quiet place and get some rest.” The Gospels mention Jesus withdrawing by himself over 11 times. Also, remember David’s picture in Psalm 23 of lying down in green pastures, beside still waters, as God restored his soul. This kind of rest is necessary for a follower of Jesus.

If the Son of God needed solitude and stillness, why do we think we don’t?

We are not the Savior of the world. That job is already taken. We’re not even the source of the gospel—we’re simply conduits. When we abide in Christ, his life flows through us like sap through a branch (John 15). Branches don’t grunt or strain. They simply remain.

So why do we strain so hard to do God’s work?

Sometimes it’s religious zeal. Sometimes it’s old wounds or approval-seeking. But often, it’s because capable people struggle to depend on God. I have observed in my 60 years of ministry that the more capable a person is, the harder it is for them to depend on God to do the work of the ministry. They falsely believe that God needs their efforts and energy to do his work. They believe lies like: 

• “If I stop, everything will fall apart.” 
• “If I rest, I’ll be seen as weak.” 
• “If I say no, I’ll disappoint God or others.”

These lies entangle us, making it nearly impossible to receive God’s love—or share it. 

A Personal Encounter with God’s Gentle Love

When I was diagnosed with cancer for the first time, I was forced to slow down. After a few days of rest, God whispered: “I don’t need you to do one more thing for Me. I just want your love and devotion.”

That moment unraveled me. God began showing me that my energy, drive, and gifting—all of which he gave me—needed to be surrendered back to him and that sometimes my “Prudence energy” got in his way. My life was not to be used for him, but used by him, through me. Ministry became less about what I could produce, and more about how I could abide. What a relief that was for me and my ministry!

Now, I begin each day with a morning prayer—not just outlining my tasks but anchoring and thanking him for his love. “For God is working in you, giving you the desire and the power to do what pleases him” (Phil 2:13).

Loving God and loving myself are not at odds. In fact, they’re often the same motion.

Wholeness as a Witness

Loving God and self creates the overflow from which we love others. As those loves align, the fruit of the Spirit emerges—not from effort, but from connection.

So, what does that kind of self-care look like? It looks like stewardship: 

• Prayer, solitude, and Sabbath 
• Nature walks and exercise 
• Lectio Divina and Scripture study 
• Health check-ups and wholesome eating 
• Joy, fun, play, and laughter 
• Emotional awareness and rest 
• Honest community and boundaries

These are not indulgences. They are obedience. And when we engage them, we are proclaiming: “The mission depends on God, not on me.”

Our wholeness becomes part of our witness. What if those we served saw us living from a deep sense of belovedness—resting, playing, grieving, and loving with healthy margins? Would the message of Jesus look different?

I believe it would.

Robert Mullholland said, “Often we will expend amazing amounts of energy and resources to be in the world for God. But, you see, we are called to be in God for the world.”1 That is the difference. We’re not the heroes of this story—Jesus already is. Caring for ourselves in light of his love isn’t forgetting the mission. It’s the only way we’ll finish it.

May you receive his love deeply today and, from that place, love others well. Do it not out of depletion, but from abundance, not to prove, but to participate. Let the love begin with him, overflow into you, and reach into the world. May it be so.