Empathy without boundaries will consume you.

I was meeting a new acquaintance for coffee for the first time — we met through volunteering and I wanted to provide a friendly connection since she was new. I hadn’t told her this, but I had only planned to be available that day for 50 minutes. 

Well, the person I was sitting with had a lot to say — it became clear that she needed care, and I felt like I couldn’t just cut her off when I wanted to leave. At nearly three hours in, we ended our time together and politely got in our cars to go. I was mad and completely drained, but I tried hard not to show it.

This was not a “sacrifice with intention” moment; I was too nervous to navigate my limitations, so I just froze. Instead of honoring both of our needs and trusting her to deal with any possible disappointment, I discredited her resilience and bypassed my irritation until I reached emotional depletion. I was barely able to stay present during our conversation, and now I was resenting the wrong person.

Friends, there is absolutely nothing holy about abandoning ourselves like this. 

I didn’t need to sacrifice more.
I needed to take accountability for my lack of boundaries. 
I needed to repent for the situation I placed both of us in. 

Empathy without boundaries will consume you. It will drain you of your peace, your presence, and your ability to love well. It may feel difficult to put boundaries on empathy, but boundaries are actually an act of trust and restoring dignity. To remain attuned and present while still letting someone sit with their own pain is to say: I believe in your resilience. I trust God is at work in you. I don’t have to rescue you for you to be okay. 

Paul reminds us in Galatians 6:2-5 that we are called to “carry each other’s burdens” (v.2) and also that “each one should carry their own load” (v.5). At first glance, those two instructions seem like opposites. Are we supposed to carry one another’s burdens or let each person carry their own? The answer is yes. 

We are invited to walk with others, but not to collapse under the weight of what only they can carry. When we carry each other’s burdens with presence and compassion — without rescuing or erasing ourselves — we are actually fulfilling the law of Christ (v.2). Empathy with boundaries makes space for both people to remain whole, which is the kind of love Jesus modeled. When we abandon our own limitations to take on the burdens of others, we are not fulfilling the role that God has called us to. 

Christ-centered empathy is sitting near without taking over. It is caring without controlling. It is offering presence without pretending to be savior. The most Christlike empathy is not rescuing, but remaining — with Him, with yourself, and with the other. 

May you practice the courage to stay present without being consumed, trusting that God is at work in both your limits and your compassion.  

With grace and good boundaries, 

Mallory Albrecht 
Cohort Leadership Director