Matt Alexander

The Life of a Church Planter

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I’m a family man who has a wonderful wife of 32 years and 5 children! I began the Church Planting Journey in 2011 and I’m having the time of my life through the difficulties and Big Wins of church planting.
  • Part 1 — “Helping Men Win” Looks Different Now”

    Part 1 — “Helping Men Win” Looks Different Now”

    Theme Verse:

    “Keep your heart with all vigilance, for from it flow the springs of life.” — Proverbs 4:23 (ESV)

    When God Arrested My Heart

    It was early one morning in the year 2001 — long before sunrise, long before I ever stood behind a pulpit — when God arrested my heart.

    I was having my unhurried time before work, praying for the men of our church and asking God to move powerfully in an upcoming men’s conference. I wanted every man to attend. I wanted them to encounter Jesus, to walk in purity, to lead their homes well.

    And in that moment of intercession, the Lord interrupted me.
    He showed me something I wasn’t ready to see:
    The very thing I wanted for all those men… I wasn’t pursuing fully in my own life.

    The conviction was instant and heavy. I realized that while I had a heart for ministry, my personal walk had grown shallow. I was passionate about seeing other men changed, but I hadn’t surrendered to the same depth of change myself.

    Without even thinking, I walked into the bedroom and woke my wife. With tears in my eyes, I confessed what God had just revealed to me. I told her, “I’ve been praying for all the men in our church to experience something that I’m not truly pursuing myself.”

    She looked at me — calm, gentle, and Spirit-led — and said words I’ll never forget:
    “Matt, I’ve been praying that God would do in your life what you’ve been longing for in all those other men’s lives.”

    That was the moment God arrested my heart.
    That morning became a hinge point in my entire life and ministry.

    The Call That Changed Everything

    From that day forward, my focus shifted. I stopped praying for “a great event” and started praying for God to build great men.

    In 2001, I began leading the men’s ministry in our church. Those ten years, from 2001 to 2011, were my training ground. I learned to listen, to lead, and to depend on God more deeply.

    By 2005, I had answered God’s call to ministry. In 2008, I stepped into full-time service as the Associate Pastor and Minister of Evangelism. Then, in 2011, God led me to plant a church.

    Through it all, Danny Singleton Ministries was a steady voice in my life. Danny was more than a mentor; he was a companion on the journey. He taught me how to care for men, not just count them. He helped me see that effective ministry to men isn’t built on events, but on relationships rooted in the gospel.

    Still, I couldn’t shake that question: What happens after the event?

    We were good at gathering men, but not as good at guiding them. We could create excitement, but not always establish endurance. And that question kept burning in my heart for 18 years.

    When God Connected the Dots

    In 2015, God crossed my path with Keith Boggs and Real Momentum Ministries.
    I immediately knew his heart for men was genuine and biblical. But at that time, I didn’t yet realize how deeply God would use that connection in my future.

    It wasn’t until 2019 that I truly began leaning into the coaching, resources, and friendship that Real Momentum offers pastors and men’s ministry leaders. That’s when everything changed.

    Keith’s simple but powerful phrase — “helping men win” — put language to what God had been stirring in me since that morning in 2001. Through his guidance, I finally had a framework for discipling men beyond the event.

    Real Momentum gave me a process, not just a platform. It offered tools to equip churches and pastors to reach men intentionally — to help them grow in their walk with Christ and lead their families well.

    I’ll forever thank God for bringing Keith into my life when He did — and for bringing me back around to that relationship when I was finally ready to receive what He wanted to teach me through it.

    The Next Chapter: Sanctuary Hills

    Just a few years ago, the Lord expanded that vision again through a new partnership with Sanctuary Hills in Blaine, Tennessee.

    Sanctuary Hills is a life-giving place for men, women, couples, churches, and pastors. It’s a place of retreat, renewal, and restoration. The first time I set foot on that property, I sensed the Lord whispering, “Matt, this is the next piece of the calling I started in you all those years ago.”

    It’s become a sacred space where men can lay down the weight of ministry, rediscover who they are in Christ, and find the rest their souls have been craving. I’ve seen men healed there. I’ve seen pastors restored. I’ve seen families begin again.

    It’s the living evidence that what God starts, He finishes — and often, He does it through partnerships and places we never saw coming.

    The Lesson That Still Speaks

    When God calls a man, He always starts with his heart. Before He builds a ministry, He breaks and rebuilds the man behind it.

    That morning in 2001, God began a work in me that He’s still doing today.
    Through mentors like Danny Singleton and Johnny Hunt, through brothers like Keith Boggs, through ministries like Real Momentum and Sanctuary Hills, He’s teaching me what I must never forget:

    You can’t help men win until you first let God win in you.

    A Pastor’s Reflection

    Maybe you’re reading this and realizing you’ve been praying for revival in others while running on empty yourself. Maybe you’ve been busy doing ministry but quietly drifting from intimacy.

    Lean in, the Lord may be calling you to stop striving and let Him arrest your heart again.
    That’s not failure — that’s grace.

    Let Him do in your life what you’ve been longing for in the lives of others.

    Finally, reach out to myself, Keith Boggs with Real Momentum/Sanctuary Hills and take your next step to “Helping Men Win“, it may look different than but it will be worth it!

    A Pastor’s Prayer

    Father,
    Thank You for that quiet morning when You stopped me in my tracks and realigned my heart.
    Thank You for my wife, who prayed and spoke truth when I needed it most.
    Thank You for mentors and partners like Danny Singleton, Johnny Hunt, Keith Boggs, Real Momentum, and Sanctuary Hills — reminders that You never call us to walk alone.
    Keep my heart tender, teachable, and in step with You.
    Arrest my heart again today, Lord, and make me the man You’ve called me to be.
    Amen.

  • “Words That Wound: A Pastor’s Heart on Weight, Worth, and the Power of the Tongue”

    “Words That Wound: A Pastor’s Heart on Weight, Worth, and the Power of the Tongue”

    Theme Verse:“Death and life are in the power of the tongue…” — Proverbs 18:21 (NASB1995)
    “Let every person be quick to hear, slow to speak, slow to anger.” — James 1:19 (ESV)

    A Lifetime of Hearing What Should Have Never Been Said

    I’ve carried extra weight most of my life. Before some people ever saw my character, my calling, my work ethic, or my heart, they saw my size.

    Because of that, I’ve been:

    • shamed
    • laughed at
    • mocked
    • criticized
    • profiled
    • overlooked
    • and even treated as “less than”

    —not because of my life, but because of my weight.

    Some people think comments about weight are harmless.
    They’re not.
    They linger. They shape identity. They wound. And they don’t go away.

    I’ve never been someone who overeats constantly. But historically, my body reacts to carbs differently than some folks. I can eat what others eat “normally” — and my weight packs on quickly.

    Yet people assume weight = laziness or lack of discipline.
    That assumption is sinful, unkind, and unbiblical.

    The “Compliments” That Don’t Land Like Compliments

    When I’ve lost weight through the years, I often hear:

    • “Man, you’re looking really good now.”
    • “Wow, you’re finally slimming down!”
    • “You were a BIG guy.”
    • “You look great these days!”

    They mean well.
    But inside I can’t help thinking:

    “So… what did I look like before?”

    Suddenly the “encouragement” feels more like a comparison — as if the old version of me was something to be ashamed of.

    A Needed Word: You Can Encourage when people lose Weight — With Grace

    Let me be clear:

    Affirming someone who has worked hard to become healthier is good. It is encouraging. It is helpful.

    Scripture tells us:

    “Encourage one another and build one another up…” — 1 Thessalonians 5:11 (ESV)

    But we must encourage with wisdom and grace, not with comparison or backhanded compliments.

    Here’s how you do that:

    Say this:

    • “I’m proud of the work you’ve put in.”
    • “I know the discipline this takes. I celebrate with you.”
    • “I see the effort and I’m encouraged by your commitment.”

    Avoid this:

    • “You look so much better now.”
    • “Wow… You finally lost weight!”
    • “Wow, you don’t even look like the same person.”
    • “I know your wife/husband is happy.”

    Encouragement should lift, not label.
    Support, not shame.
    Celebrate progress, not criticize the past.

    You can acknowledge someone’s hard work without diminishing who they were before — because their image-bearing dignity never changed.

    Words Shape Children — Permanently

    I was talking with my wife about this recently. Adults often speak carelessly to children about weight without even thinking.

    It’s acceptable to tell a toddler,
    “Wow, you’re getting so big!”

    But when a child reaches 8, 9, or 10 years old, that same phrase hits differently.

    Recently, a man in our community looked at one of my sons and said:

    “Dude, you’re huge. You’re a big guy…”

    He didn’t mean harm. It wasn’t ill will.
    But I didn’t let it slide.

    Without hesitation I looked at my son and said:

    “Yep… the fat jokes just keep coming.”

    Not to attack him — but to confront the moment.

    We wonder why our sons and daughters mature into adulthood with body-image issues, self-hatred, insecurity, and shame. Many times, our own children will not say Yes to what God is calling them to because of these insecurities.

    We must be careful with our Words!

    The Comment I’ll Never Forget

    Years ago, a close friend called after we hadn’t talked in a long time.

    He asked,
    “What’s everybody been up to?”

    Then immediately joked:

    “Well, I know what your son’s been up to… I saw some recent post on social media… he’s been eating.”

    It burned me up.

    Not because I lack thick skin.
    But because remarks like that do harm — real harm. I’m thankful that my son didn’t hear the comment but it caused me to try to shield my children from such foolish talk.

    As I think back to my High School days, I played basketball with our church team. I remember a christian man who purchased all of his truck parts from the auto parts store that I worked at and played for an opposing church in our community. He came into the store laughing and said, “My wife ask me last night when we got home from the game, “what is that young fat teenagers name that played on that other team tonight?” He thought it was funny… HaHa.. I wasn’t laughing. That happened in 1990 and a couple years ago I saw them in the grocery store and I didn’t recognize her. She had probably gained 75 lbs since I had last seen her. My flesh wanted to walk up to her and say something that would hurt her to the core. You see, that’s how sin works. God help us. We carry flippant comments like that for years and it causes all sorts of pain and it has the potential to bring out the worst in us.

    What Scripture Says About Our Words

    The Word of God does not treat careless speech like a small sin.
    It treats it like a heart sin.

    • “Every careless word… they shall give an accounting for.” — Matthew 12:36
    • “A gentle tongue is a tree of life.” — Proverbs 15:4
    • “Let no unwholesome word proceed from your mouth…” — Ephesians 4:29
    • “If anyone does not bridle his tongue… his religion is worthless.” — James 1:26

    Weight jokes…
    Body comments…
    Throwaway remarks…

    These are not “harmless.”

    They are destructive.
    They are unloving.
    They are sinful.

    God commands His people to be:

    • slow to speak
    • careful with words
    • full of grace and truth

    Especially toward children.

    Why This Matters So Much

    Because we don’t know the battles people carry.

    Some fight genetics.
    Some fight medical conditions.
    Some fight metabolism.
    Some fight childhood trauma.
    Some fight eating disorders.
    Some fight depression tied to body image.
    Some fight shame they never asked for.

    And Christians should be the safest people on earth — not the most critical.

    A Word of Pastoral Challenge

    If you’re someone who makes comments about weight — even “playfully,” even “innocently,” even “just joking”:

    Repent.
    Your words matter.
    Your words wound.

    If you’ve been on the receiving end, like I have:

    Your identity is not your weight.
    Your value is not your size.
    Your worth is not determined by people’s opinions.
    Your dignity is rooted in Christ alone.

    A Pastor’s Prayer

    Father,
    Guard our mouths.
    Forgive us for careless words that wounded others.
    Heal those who have carried shame because of the speech of others.
    Teach us to encourage with grace, not comparison.
    Help us build up, not tear down.
    May our words reflect the heart of Christ in all things.
    Amen.

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  • Part 6 — How to Leave Well: Honoring God in Every Goodbye

    Part 6 — How to Leave Well: Honoring God in Every Goodbye

    “Let all that you do be done in love.” —  1 Corinthians 16:14 (ESV)

    Leaving Without Vanishing

    Not every friendship or ministry connection is meant to last forever. Sometimes God truly does lead us into new seasons. He may move a family to a new city, call someone into another ministry, or simply redirect a relationship for reasons we can’t yet see.

    There’s no shame in that. Change is part of God’s providence. But how we leave matters deeply.

    In a world that normalizes silence and avoidance, Christians are called to a higher standard — one that reflects the faithfulness of Christ. The way we part ways says something about the gospel we believe.

    I’ve learned this the hard way. There have been moments in my life when I’ve left relationships or ministry settings too quickly — not out of anger, but out of exhaustion. I told myself, “It’s just easier this way.” But easier isn’t always right.

    The people on the other side of our departure deserve clarity, kindness, and gratitude. When we vanish without explanation, we leave confusion where peace could have been.

    The Call to Love, Even in Departure

    Scripture never commands believers to stay in every situation forever. Paul himself often moved on from one city to another. But read his letters, and you’ll notice something consistent: he never left without love.

    Before departing from Ephesus, he wept with the elders, prayed with them, and entrusted them to God’s care (Acts 20:36–38). When he parted from the Philippians, he thanked them with affection. When disagreements arose with Barnabas, he still continued to preach the gospel faithfully.

    Paul left people, but he didn’t leave peace undone.

    If we must step away — from a friendship, a ministry role, or even a church — we can do it in love. That means communicating honestly, speaking kindly, and parting with grace.

    Saying, “I’ve loved being part of this, but I believe the Lord is leading me elsewhere,” doesn’t burn bridges — it builds them.

    Facing My Own Conviction

    I wish I could say I’ve always left well. I haven’t. There are times I’ve ghosted through transition, telling myself, “They’ll understand.” But the truth is, I took away their opportunity for closure.

    One day, I felt convicted about a situation like that. I reached out to someone I hadn’t spoken to in years. I told them I was sorry for the way I’d gone silent — that I should have spoken truthfully and thanked them for what we’d shared.

    That message didn’t fix everything, but it did bring peace. Obedience often does.

    Romans 12:10 says, “Love one another with brotherly affection. Outdo one another in showing honor.”
    That’s what leaving well looks like: showing honor on the way out, not just appreciation on the way in.

    What Leaving Well Looks Like

    Leaving well isn’t about writing the perfect farewell message or staying connected forever. It’s about leaving a fragrance of grace rather than a trail of confusion.

    Here’s what that might look like:

    • Be honest, not harsh. Speak truth gently, without blame.
    • Express gratitude. Thank people for what they’ve meant to you, even if you’re moving on.
    • Seek peace where possible. If something feels unresolved, try to clear it up before you go.
    • Bless on your way out. Pray for the people you’re leaving — sincerely and without resentment.

    Sometimes the most spiritual thing we can say is simply, “Thank you, and may God continue to bless you.”

    When You’re on the Receiving End

    If someone leaves you without a word, it’s okay to feel the loss. But resist the urge to fill the silence with assumptions. Pray for them. Release them to God. You can’t control their choices, but you can choose grace.

    The Lord sees both sides — the one who leaves and the one who’s left. And His love covers both.

    Heart Check

    • Have I ever left a relationship, group, or church without communicating in love?
    • Who might need a word of gratitude or reconciliation from me today?
    • Am I leaving people with grace or with questions?

    My Prayer

    Lord Jesus,
    You never left Your people without a word of truth or a gesture of love.
    Teach me to do the same.
    When You call me into a new season, let me leave with integrity and affection.
    And when others leave me behind, give me grace to bless them and move forward in peace.
    May every transition in my life point others back to Your unfailing faithfulness.
    Amen.

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  • Part 5 — Feeling Out of Place: When Returning Feels Harder Than Leaving

    Part 5 — Feeling Out of Place: When Returning Feels Harder Than Leaving

    “Therefore welcome one another as Christ has welcomed you, for the glory of God.” — Romans 15:7 ESV

    When Familiar Faces Feel Distant

    Not everyone who disappears from church or friendship leaves because of conflict. Sometimes life just gets busy. A job change, a move, family pressures, illness — and suddenly weeks of absence turn into months.

    Then one Sunday, you finally walk back through the doors, only to realize things have changed. There are new faces, new rhythms. You recognize people, but the conversations don’t come as easily as before.

    I’ve watched that moment on countless faces — the hesitation, the nervous smile, the quiet wondering: Do I still belong here? And I’ve felt it myself.

    Years ago, after a season of exhaustion, my wife and I stepped back from a small group we loved. What was meant to be a few weeks of rest stretched into months. When we returned, it felt like everyone else had moved on without us. The same living room, the same laughter — but somehow, we felt like outsiders in a place that used to feel like home.

    That sense of displacement is subtle but powerful. It whispers, “You’re not needed anymore.” And if we’re not careful, that lie can nudge us toward ghosting ourselves — slipping quietly away before anyone notices the ache inside.

    The Silent Drift

    For some, that’s exactly how it happens. They didn’t leave in anger. They just stopped showing up. Each Sunday away made the next one easier. Each unanswered text made reconnecting feel harder.

    As weeks turn into months, shame creeps in. The thought of returning feels awkward. They imagine everyone whispering, “Where have they been?” so they stay away a little longer.

    But what’s really happening is spiritual isolation. The longer we stay away, the louder the enemy’s lies grow. “You’re forgotten. You’re too far gone. You don’t fit anymore.”

    The truth? None of that is true. If you feel out of place after a time away, remember this: the family of God isn’t a club — it’s a body. And when one part is missing, the whole body feels it. Your absence leaves a space that no one else can fill.

    The Welcome of Christ

    Romans 15:7 commands, “Welcome one another as Christ has welcomed you, for the glory of God.”

    That verse changes everything. Christ didn’t welcome us because we had perfect attendance or because we came back without shame. He welcomed us while we were still far off. His arms are always open — not crossed.

    If you’re returning after time away, hear this: you are not an outsider. You’re family. The Savior who went after one wandering sheep is the same Lord who rejoices when you walk back through the door.

    And to those still present in the church — this is where we can do better. The returning heart needs more than a handshake; it needs warmth. It needs someone to notice, to say, “We’ve missed you,” not, “Where have you been?”

    I’ve failed at this before. There were seasons when people drifted, and I was so busy tending to the present that I didn’t notice the absent. The Lord convicted me deeply: shepherds don’t just feed the sheep who show up — they go after the ones who don’t.

    Practical Grace

    If you’re the one returning, take small steps. Attend a service. Join a Bible study. Text a friend and tell them you’re coming back. Don’t let fear dictate your belonging.

    And if you’re part of the church family, look for those faces that seem unsure. One kind word can make all the difference. A simple, “Hey, it’s good to see you,” can ease months of anxiety.

    Heart Check

    • Have I overlooked someone who’s quietly returned after being gone?
    • Am I extending welcome or judgment to those finding their way back?
    • If I’ve drifted, what step could I take today to reconnect?

    My Prayer

    Father,
    Thank You that You never stop welcoming us home.
    Help me notice the ones who feel out of place.
    Give me eyes to see returning hearts and words that restore belonging.
    Make our churches places where grace opens every door,
    and no one feels too far gone to come back.
    Amen.

    Stay tuned for Part 6 in this Series— “How to Leave Well — Honoring God in Every Goodbye“

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  • Part 4 — When Disagreement Turns to Distance: Loving When We Don’t See Eye to Eye

    Part 4 — When Disagreement Turns to Distance: Loving When We Don’t See Eye to Eye

    “So then let us pursue what makes for peace and for mutual upbuilding.” — Romans 14:19 ESV

    When Fellowship Fades Over Friction

    Disagreements happen in every church and in every friendship. But the pain comes when disagreement turns into disappearance—when instead of talking through what hurt, one or both parties simply pull away.

    I’ve seen it more times than I can count. A family disagrees with a church decision, a sermon, or a change in leadership. Rather than talk it through, they quietly step back. Attendance becomes sporadic, then nonexistent. Texts go unanswered. Their absence leaves confusion—and a dull ache that lingers long after their seats are empty.

    What grieves me most is that it rarely starts with anger. It starts with hurt that’s never voiced. People think, “If I speak up, it’ll only make things worse.” But silence doesn’t protect peace—it poisons it.

    As a pastor, I’ve been on both sides of that equation. I’ve been the one confused by someone’s withdrawal—and I’ve been the one who, out of fatigue or fear, avoided a hard conversation. In both cases, I learned that peace doesn’t grow in the dark. It requires light, humility, and dialogue.

    Disagreement Doesn’t Have to Mean Division

    God never commands His people to agree on every issue. But He does command us to handle disagreement in a way that reflects His character.

    Romans 12:18 says, “If possible, so far as it depends on you, live peaceably with all.” The phrase “as it depends on you” reminds me that peace often begins with the first humble move—the willingness to reach out, to ask questions, to listen instead of accuse.

    In Philippians 4, Paul urged two women, Euodia and Syntyche, to “agree in the Lord.” Their conflict wasn’t destroying their faith, but it was disrupting their fellowship. Paul didn’t tell them to pick a side—he told them to remember Who they shared.

    When we disagree, it’s easy to fight for being right. But as believers, we’re called to fight for being reconciled. Sometimes that means saying, “I don’t fully understand, but I still love you. Let’s keep talking.”

    When Pride Keeps Us Silent

    I’ll confess: sometimes I’ve avoided people I disagreed with because pride whispered, “They should come to you first.”But humility whispers something else: “You can go to them, too.”

    Jesus said in Matthew 5:23–24 that if you remember your brother has something against you, you should leave your gift at the altar and go be reconciled first. That’s how serious He is about relationships.

    One Sunday, I realized someone had quietly stopped attending after a ministry decision I’d made. Weeks turned into months. Finally, the Holy Spirit wouldn’t let me shake it. So I picked up the phone and asked if we could talk.

    That conversation was awkward—but it was healing. They shared their frustration; I listened and owned what I could have done better. By the end, there were tears, laughter, and grace. They didn’t come back to our church, but we parted in peace. And that peace was worth the discomfort.

    When They Still Walk Away

    Of course, reconciliation doesn’t always mean restoration. Some people still choose to leave, even after honest conversations. When that happens, we can release them to the Lord’s care without bitterness.

    2 Timothy 4:17 says, “The Lord stood by me and strengthened me.” When people leave, God stays. When fellowship fades, He fills the space with His presence. That’s not just comfort—it’s power to forgive and keep loving others without fear.

    Heart Check

    • Is there someone you’ve disagreed with but avoided rather than pursued?
    • Are you holding onto being right more than being reconciled?
    • What step could you take today to open a conversation you’ve been avoiding?

    My Prayer

    Father,
    Thank You for loving me even when I’ve been difficult to love.
    Give me humility to listen where I’ve been defensive,
    and courage to reach out where pride keeps me distant.
    Help me pursue peace, not comfort; reconciliation, not retreat.
    Let my relationships—especially in disagreement—reflect the patience and mercy of Christ.
    Amen.

    Stay tuned for Part 5 in this Series— “Feeling Out of Place: When Returning Feels Harder Than Leaving”

    (if these post have been helpful, feel free to share them on your social media platforms.”

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  • Part 3 — Ending Friendships With Grace: A Better Way Forward

    Part 3 — Ending Friendships With Grace: A Better Way Forward

    “If possible, so far as it depends on you, live peaceably with all.” — Romans 12:18 (ESV)

    When People Leave Without a Word

    Over the years, I’ve learned that friendships—even the closest ones—don’t always last forever. People change, seasons shift, and sometimes God leads paths in different directions. But there’s one thing that never stops hurting: when someone leaves your life without a word.

    As a pastor, I’ve seen it in the church countless times. A family who used to serve faithfully and sit up front stops attending. You reach out once, twice, three times—no response. You run into them at the grocery store, and they avoid eye contact. No conflict. No confrontation. Just quiet distance.

    I’ve also experienced it personally, and the wound always carries a mix of sadness and confusion. You replay conversations, wondering, What did I miss? Did I say something wrong? Sometimes there’s no answer, and that’s what makes it hard—you can’t fix what you can’t understand.

    Still, God used those moments to show me something uncomfortable: sometimes I’ve done the same thing to others. Not intentionally, but out of fatigue or fear. There have been times I needed space and instead of speaking honestly, I just grew distant. It was easier than having a hard conversation. Easier—but not right.

    The Gospel Way to End Well

    When friendships or ministry seasons change, Scripture gives us a better way forward. Ephesians 4:15 calls us to “speak the truth in love.” That means honesty and compassion should walk hand in hand.

    If you feel the need to step back from a relationship, it’s not wrong to do so—but it is wrong to disappear without communication. Christ never ghosted anyone. Even when He withdrew from crowds, He told His disciples why. He modeled clarity and care, never leaving people to wonder what went wrong.

    To end well means to honor the relationship even as you release it. It means saying, “I value what we shared, and I want to part in peace.” That’s not weakness—it’s obedience. Romans 12:18 says, “If possible, so far as it depends on you, live peaceably with all.” We can’t control the response, but we can control our effort toward peace.

    Leaving Without Burning Bridges

    I remember one friendship that grew strained after ministry differences. We saw things differently, and instead of talking through it, we both quietly withdrew. Months later, I realized I hadn’t handled it well. So I called him—not to defend myself, but to apologize.

    That phone call didn’t erase all the awkwardness, but it brought healing. We prayed together, acknowledged the good years we shared, and blessed one another. When I hung up, my heart felt lighter. The friendship wasn’t fully restored, but grace had replaced regret.

    Ending friendships with grace doesn’t mean pretending everything’s fine—it means finishing with love and truth. It means choosing empathy over ego, humility over justification, peace over pride.

    And it means asking the hard question: Have I left anyone wondering what happened to me? If so, maybe the most Christlike thing I can do is pick up the phone, send a message, or write a note that says, “I’m sorry for how things ended. You mattered to me.”

    When the Other Person Won’t Respond

    Of course, not every attempt will be welcomed. Some doors stay closed. But even then, peace is possible—because peace doesn’t always depend on reconciliation; sometimes it depends on release.

    Forgiveness frees your heart from the burden of silence, whether or not the other person responds. Jesus prayed for forgiveness for His betrayers while they were still betraying Him. That’s grace. And that’s the posture we’re called to.

    Heart Check

    • Have I ever ended a relationship through silence instead of honesty?
    • Is there someone who deserves a conversation, not confusion?
    • Am I willing to risk vulnerability for the sake of peace?

    My Prayer

    Lord Jesus,
    You are the Friend who never leaves us nor forsakes us.
    Teach me to end relationships with grace, not pride.
    Show me if there’s anyone I’ve walked away from without love or clarity.
    Give me courage to reach out, humility to listen,
    and peace that comes from obeying You.

    And God, would you be so gracious to turn my wounds to scars that they may no longer cause me to flinch when cultivating new relationships.

    Amen.

  • Part 2 — When Silence Ripples Through a Family: Guarding the Heart Without Building Walls

    Part 2 — When Silence Ripples Through a Family: Guarding the Heart Without Building Walls

    “Above all, keep loving one another earnestly, since love covers a multitude of sins.” — 1 Peter 4:8 (ESV)

    The Ripple Effect

    When friendships end suddenly, the ache doesn’t stop with the people directly involved. It ripples through entire families.

    After that couple vanished from our lives, the silence seeped into our home. Our children didn’t understand why two people they called “grandma and grandpa” had disappeared. They kept asking if we’d see them again at Christmas, if they’d come to their next birthday. Each time, we had to say, “I don’t know.”

    It’s hard to explain relational loss to children because they don’t carry the same filters adults do. They don’t calculate or rationalize — they just feel. Their trust is simpler, and when it’s broken, the wound goes deeper.

    I began to notice the ripple effect in subtle ways: our kids became more hesitant to attach to new people, slower to open up, less trusting when someone said, “We love your family.” Their hearts were learning what ours had already learned — that love sometimes disappears without warning.

    And honestly, I couldn’t blame them. I was starting to feel the same way.

    The Walls We Build

    Hurt makes builders out of us. We build walls not with bricks, but with guarded smiles and polite distance. I told myself I was just being “wiser” or “careful,” but if I’m honest, it wasn’t wisdom — it was fear.

    I was afraid of investing again, afraid of leading my family into another heartbreak. And ministry can easily disguise that fear as maturity. We tell ourselves, “We’ve learned our lesson.” But in reality, we’ve just grown numb.

    Over time, I realized that the very walls I was building to keep pain out were also keeping love out. You can’t selectively block heartbreak — you end up blocking hope, too.

    Jesus didn’t build walls after betrayal. He loved again. He invited Thomas to touch His wounds. He restored Peter by the fire. He kept His heart open, not because people were trustworthy, but because His Father was faithful.

    That’s the call for every believer, and especially for pastors: to guard the heart, but not harden it. Proverbs 4:23 tells us, “Keep your heart with all vigilance, for from it flow the springs of life.” Guarding your heart doesn’t mean hiding it behind iron gates; it means keeping it pure, soft, and surrendered before God.

    Facing My Own Retreat

    I wish I could say I’ve always done this well. The truth is, sometimes I’ve pulled away too quickly. After being ghosted, I found myself avoiding deeper friendships altogether. There were times someone reached out to connect, and I was polite—but distant. I’d nod, smile, and stay safely vague.

    In those moments, I was ghosting in my own way. I wasn’t disappearing physically, but emotionally I was gone. And that realization convicted me deeply.

    So, I began praying differently: “Lord, don’t let my pain make me proud. Don’t let hurt make me hard.”

    Slowly, God began softening me again. Not through grand moments, but through quiet acts of grace—unexpected encouragement, new friendships, and the gentle reminder that love is always worth the risk.

    Heart Check

    • Have you built emotional walls in the name of “wisdom”?
    • Are those walls keeping people out—or keeping God from using you to love again?
    • Who might need to see a softer, more open version of you today?

    My Prayer

    Father,
    You know how easily pain can turn into pride and fear into distance.
    Keep my heart soft where it wants to grow cold.
    Teach me to guard my heart without closing it.
    Help my family—and the families I shepherd—to risk love again,
    because You have loved us without reserve.
    Amen.

    Stay tuned for Part 3 in this Series— “Ending Friendships With Grace: A Better Way Forward”

    (if these post have been helpful, feel free to share them on your social media platforms.)

  • Part 1 — When Friends Disappear: The Ache No One Talks About

    Part 1 — When Friends Disappear: The Ache No One Talks About

    “Even my close friend in whom I trusted, who ate my bread, has lifted his heel against me.” — Psalm 41:9 ESV

    There’s a particular pain few people prepare you for—the pain of ghosted friendships. It’s when someone you love suddenly stops responding to calls or texts, not because of conflict but simply without explanation.

    When the Calls Stop Coming

    For our family, it wasn’t a distant acquaintance. It was a couple who had become like grandparents to our five children. We shared Holidays, vacations, sporting events, graduations, worship gatherings and countless family birthday meals together. They were woven into the fabric of our daily lives. We even shared a “family” group text thread….

    Then, without warning, they were gone. Not only did they leave the church but totally walked away from our family. Calls went unanswered, no response to text messages. No goodbye—only silence.

    Days turned into weeks and weeks turned into months, months into years, and still nothing. You see, it was 30 days of silence before there was any response to our communication and it was a simple text saying, “God has led us away from the church to another church.” I responded by saying something like- “I totally understand God leading you to another church but obviously, we have hurt you severely, please tell us what we did that hurt you so bad, and for you to go silent on our family, we want to do our best to correct it.” To this day- Crickets….

    The hardest part wasn’t my own hurt; it was watching our children’s confusion. “Dad, did we do something wrong?” I had no answer.

    The silence was deafening. Ghosting leaves you feeling disposable, unseen, unsure of what was ever real.

    When Love Meets Silence

    As a pastor, I’ve seen many kinds of pain, but relational silence carries a special weight. You start replaying every conversation, wondering if you missed a cue or said something careless. Sometimes people simply drift; other times, the Holy Spirit gently shows you that you may have been the one who hurt someone and didn’t realize it.

    I had to stop asking only, “Why did they leave?” and start asking, “Lord, have I ever made someone feel this way?” There were moments He brought faces to mind—people I had lost touch with, relationships I let fade because the conversation would have been awkward or time was short. That realization stung.

    The truth is, I haven’t always handled friendships well either. Ministry can make it easy to move on to the next person who needs care, forgetting that the ones who slipped quietly away may still be carrying pain I helped cause.

    Psalm 139:23-24 became my prayer: “Search me, O God, and know my heart! Try me and know my thoughts! And see if there be any grievous way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting.”

    Learning to Grieve and to Repent

    God used this loss not only to heal my own hurt but also to humble me. Grieving includes looking inward—asking where I might owe someone a conversation, an apology, or at least a word of gratitude left unsaid.

    Some wrongs can’t be undone, but repentance can still bear fruit. I’ve learned to reach out when the Spirit prompts, even if years have passed. Sometimes people respond; sometimes they don’t. Either way, obedience matters more than the outcome.

    Christ, who was betrayed and abandoned, never stopped initiating love. His mercy exposes my pride and invites me to live honestly before others.

    Heart Check

    • Have I been ghosted—and have I ever done the same to someone else?
    • Who might need a humble message or a coffee invitation instead of more silence?
    • What is the Spirit revealing about my part in the brokenness of relationships?
    • Can I do better? Can we do better?

    My Prayer

    Lord Jesus,
    You were betrayed and yet pursued reconciliation.
    Search my heart. Show me anyone I’ve wounded by silence or neglect.
    Give me courage to reach out, humility to repent, and grace to forgive those who’ve hurt me.
    Heal what’s broken in others—and in me. Honestly Lord, I realize that we can do better. Help us!
    Amen.

  • When Silence Speaks: A Church Planter/Pastor’s Journey Through Ghosted Friendships

    When Silence Speaks: A Church Planter/Pastor’s Journey Through Ghosted Friendships

    “Bear one another’s burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ.” — Galatians 6:2 (ESV)

    A Burden I’ve Carried for Years

    For years, I’ve carried an unfinished piece in my drafts folder. It started as one long, raw post about something few pastors or church members ever talk about—the pain of being ghosted by people we love.

    You know what I mean. When people you’ve prayed with, cried with, served alongside, and called family suddenly disappear without a word. No explanation. No closure. Just silence.

    I wrote that post years ago out of grief and confusion. But every time I tried to publish it, I hesitated. It felt too vulnerable—too exposed. The hurt was still too fresh.

    So I left it there, unfinished.

    But over the years, the Lord began to use that very silence to do something in my own heart. He started to teach me what it means to love people without guarantees. To grieve losses without growing bitter. To examine my own role in broken relationships. And to leave others—and every season of ministry—in His hands.

    Recently, I reopened that old draft. And as I reread it, I realized that it wasn’t just a blog post anymore. It had become a testimony of how God heals even the quietest wounds.

    Why This Series Matters

    I’ve been in ministry long enough to know that ghosting isn’t rare. It happens in friendships, small groups, church families, and even among pastors. Sometimes it’s caused by conflict, sometimes by misunderstanding, and sometimes by simple drift.

    Whatever the reason, the result is the same—a hollow ache where there used to be laughter and trust.

    This series comes out of that ache. Not as a rant, not as a complaint, but as a prayerful reflection on what God has been teaching me through the pain of ghosted friendships and the importance of leaving relationships well.

    It’s been healthy for me to finally unpack this, to name the hurt out loud, and to let Scripture shape how I process it. My hope is that it will be healthy for you too—whether you’ve been the one left behind, or you’ve been the one who quietly drifted away.

    This isn’t a series about blame. It’s a call to grace. A call to humility. And a reminder that in the body of Christ, we can do better.

    My Heart Behind These Posts

    As I’ve prayed through these writings, one truth has stood out above the rest:
    God cares about how we handle relationships—how we begin them, how we nurture them, and yes, how we end them.

    We may not be able to avoid every disappointment, but we can respond biblically when those disappointments come. We can learn to love through misunderstanding, to forgive in silence, and to leave with integrity when God leads us onward.

    These posts are my attempt to walk that road honestly—with Scripture open, heart exposed, and grace in full view.

    What’s Coming Next

    Over the next few weeks, I’ll be releasing six posts that explore different aspects of this journey. Each one is written from my own experience, filtered through prayer and the hope of Christ’s redeeming love.

    Here’s what’s coming:

    1. When Friends Disappear — The Ache No One Talks About
      When the people you love most suddenly vanish, and what Jesus teaches us through the silence.
    2. When Silence Ripples Through a Family — Guarding the Heart Without Building Walls
      How to protect your heart without letting pain harden it, especially when your family feels the loss too.
    3. Ending Friendships With Grace — A Better Way Forward
      What it means to part ways in love, with honesty and peace, instead of confusion and avoidance.
    4. When Disagreement Turns to Distance — Loving When We Don’t See Eye to Eye
      How to handle conflict biblically when differences threaten fellowship.
    5. Feeling Out of Place — When Returning Feels Harder Than Leaving
      Grace for the heart that wants to come back but feels like an outsider in the place it once called home.
    6. How to Leave Well — Honoring God in Every Goodbye
      Practical, gospel-centered wisdom for moving on without leaving a trail of hurt behind.

    My Prayer

    Father,
    Thank You for not wasting our pain.
    Use this series to heal hearts, renew broken trust, and remind us that every relationship is sacred.
    Teach us to love deeply, forgive quickly, and leave well when You call us elsewhere.
    May the grace of Christ redeem the silence of our past and make our future relationships strong in You.
    Amen.

    A Final Word

    This is one of the most personal series I’ve ever written. It’s not from a place of having it all figured out—it’s from a place of still learning, still repenting, and still trusting that God’s way is better.

    If these reflections help even one person heal, reconcile, or simply choose grace where silence once lived, then the years of waiting to publish them will have been worth it.

    Stay tuned. The first post, “When Friends Disappear: The Ache No One Talks About,” will be released soon. My prayer is that together, we’ll rediscover how to love and leave in a way that honors Christ.

  • Day Four: Business, Brains, and Beefy Enchiladas

    Uno Mas Tex Mex, Dallas-Texas

    We didn’t even pretend to sleep well as we rolled out of Air B&B Tuesday morning. The DART train kept its promise of arriving every eight minutes — like clockwork — and Mother Nature added insult to injury with a full-blown Texas thunder boomer shaking the walls well past midnight. Needless to say, we were already brewing with energy as we rolled into the first full day at the SBC.

    No breakfast today — just a quick cup of joe from the Kay Bailey Hutchison Convention Center. We arrived to find something rather shocking: the business session was actually ahead of schedule. For anyone who has ever attended an SBC, you know this is borderline miraculous. Usually, business sessions drag well into lunch due to lengthy debates and procedural motions.

    But not this time. Entity heads were zipping through reports like they were trying to catch a flight. It left us wondering — was this efficiency, or just a lack of substantive business and engagement from the floor? Whatever the case, there was a real concern among the foodies in the room — if we end too early, all the carefully timed luncheons might start late or be disrupted altogether. That’s a serious problem when your lunch plans includes Brisket, Enchiladas, or a luncheon you registered for that starts at 12:00 Noon and not a minute earlier.

    To fill the gap, Convention leaders decided to insert an unscheduled worship set rather than extend business discussion. Smooth move… though social media wasn’t exactly charitable. But let’s be honest — any decision in our current culture is going to be questioned. We live in a world where leadership is scrutinized, often unfairly, and very few decisions receive universal applause. That’s true in churches, businesses, schools, and yes, conventions. I feel that X or the old Twitter is the most toxic platform for spewing SBC venom…

    When the session paused, we headed to the Baptist21 Luncheon at the Omni Hotel. Box lunch? Check. My choice was the Chicken salad sammich, chips, pasta salad, and a cookie. Tasty — but let’s be real, it wasn’t BBQ or Tex Mex.

    What made the lunch worth it was the panel of presenters: Jimmy Scroggins, Danny Akin, Juan Sanchez, Albert Mohler, and our new SBC CEO Jeff Iorg. They tackled every hot topic swirling through the Convention hall — financial transparency, the Law Amendment, the $3 million budget proposal to fund lawsuits, and the ERLC debate. Their insights were sharp, and you could tell they had a good pulse on the room. While they didn’t know the exact how each vote would end up, their words certainly helped shape the mood. At times, it felt like we had already voted and knew the final tally.

    After the lunch, we stopped back by the Luther Rice College and Seminary booth to check in with friends and chat about all the amazing things happening there. If you’re a pastor or student looking for a flexible, faithful seminary education — check them out. They offer a wide range of degree programs and even dual enrollment for Georgia high school students. I introduced my good friend John Cross, pastor of FBC Sarasota, to the Luther Rice team. We shared some laughs and stories about our dads, who were ministry friends back in the 70s and 80s. Moments like these remind you — pastor friends matter. In a world that often isolates leaders, those connections breathe life, encouragement, and accountability into the calling. After catching up with John, I made my dinner recommendations to our Luther Rice Friends and headed to the convention floor.

    By afternoon’s end, the gavel dropped on Day 1 of the Business. Which meant… it was dinner time.

    While many of our friends took our Hurtado BBQ recommendation seriously, Caleb and I joined our Worship Pastor Evan Posey and Lyfted our way to Uno Mas Tex Mex Cuisine. All I can say is: Flavor Fireworks.

    I ordered three enchiladas: two Beef Short Rib and one Cheese Enchilada. And let me tell you, if speaking in tongues were real, I would’ve launched into fluent prophecy in Hebrew, Greek, and Spanish after the first bite. (Just kidding… easy there, my Charismatic friends.) But in all seriousness — these enchiladas were heavenly. Rich, slow-braised meat, wrapped in tortillas and blanketed in flavor-packed sauce. The cheese enchilada? Melted glory, glory!

    Uno Mas is a hidden gem, and I now consider it a must-visit for anyone hunting down legit Tex-Mex in Dallas.

    With full bellies and joyful hearts, we returned to our AirBnB. Unfortunately, Snoop Dogg still wasn’t there to sign autographs — but his signature scent still lingered strong in the halls. Between that, the fire station sirens, and train crossing bells, sleeping was more of a suggestion than a reality.

    But even with all the noise — literal and figurative — we were looking forward to the last day at the SBC2025.

    More reflections to come.

    • Matt Alexander
      Fusion Church Madison