I never thought my greatest wound in ministry would come from the person I once called my best friend—a man I served with, prayed with, and dreamed with. For six years, I stood shoulder to shoulder with a fellow pastor, giving my heart to a church  (a church that was dying when we arrived). And God moved. We saw spiritual growth, new life in the pews (okay, the pews had already been replaced with chairs, but you get the point), and genuine transformation.

But then came the shift. People left. Tensions rose. Looking back, I can see how I should’ve spoken up, loved, and stood in the gap more. But I was following my pastor’s lead. And when the dust settled, I was no longer at the table—I was on the outside looking in. I was suddenly excluded from the ministries we started. Decisions were made without me. My wife felt it, too, the feeling of being ostracized, dismissed with disdain from those who were our friends, almost like family.

I wasn’t met with compassion or grace when I finally brought my concerns forward. Instead, I was asked to step down—to “seek counseling.” That moment left my wife and I  stunned, grieving, and eventually walking away from a church we once called home. And the deepest cut? It wasn’t just the ministry shift. My pastor, whom I once showed grace to in one of his darkest hours, didn’t return that same grace when I needed it most. Actions indeed speak louder than words.

But, friend, if you are dealing with a situation like this, here’s what I’ve come to understand: this is not the end of the story. The enemy would love for you to quit. We must remember that Satan is a master manipulator. He prowls like a lion (1 Peter 5:8), not just in the world but even more so within the church, looking for ways to divide, distract, and devour. And what better way to do that than by wounding leaders, worshippers, and those faithful to the flock? Abraham Lincoln once said that a house divided against itself cannot stand. This is even truer when applied to the local church.

Make no mistake—church hurt is real. Never minimize someone who the church has hurt. We cannot let Satan write the final chapter of our story. We cannot surrender our calling, joy, or identity to the enemy’s deceitful tricks.

Remember: When People Fail, God Remains Faithful.
In moments like these, I cling to Romans 8:28 (CSB):
“We know that all things work together for the good of those who love God, who are called according to his purpose.”

That includes the things that break us, the betrayals, and the seasons that end in silence instead of celebration. God is sovereign and in control. He knew this chapter would come, and He is not finished with you or me!

Another verse that comforts me is Romans 11:29 (CSB):
“Since God’s gracious gifts and calling are irrevocable.”

Let that sink in—no one can cancel the calling God has placed on your life. Not a pastor. Not a deacon. Not even a church split. Your calling stands because it came from the unchanging Christ (Hebrews 13:8).

Even when it hurts, we must forgive. Forgiveness is not optional for the believer. Jesus modeled it on the cross when He prayed, “Father, forgive them because they do not know what they are doing” (Luke 23:34, CSB). And if we’re being honest, some of the people who’ve hurt us in the church may have thought they were doing the right thing at the time.

We are called to extend grace—even when grace wasn’t extended to us. That doesn’t mean you must return to that place or rekindle the relationship. But it does mean you release the bitterness before it poisons your soul and hinders your ministry.

I now see this painful season as one of God’s strangest blessings. Because through it, I’ve learned what kind of pastor I don’t want to be. I’ve learned to see those hurting in the pews and to seek the one even when it means leaving the ninety-nine. My former pastor may not have shown me the shepherd’s heart, but that doesn’t mean God won’t use this experience to form that heart in me.

Friend, don’t give up if you’ve been hurt in church. Don’t check out. Don’t let Satan convince you that you’re disqualified. If anything, your scars may be the credentials and real-life illustrations God will use to reach the broken people He’s calling you to serve next., so keep fighting the good fight!
The apostle Paul wrote from a place of hardship and betrayal but still said:
“I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith.” – 2 Timothy 4:7 (CSB)

You can, too. Not because it’s easy—but because Christ is worth it. And while church leaders may fail you, Jesus never will.

A prayer like this is hard but necessary.
Father, I come before You not with anger but with a heart that is still healing. I lift up those who have hurt me—not with bitterness, but in obedience to Your Word. May You bless and guide them, and may their ministry flourish as they align their hearts with Scripture. Lord, though they hurt me, I release them to You. Heal the broken places in me, and restore the joy of Your calling on my life. Use my pain for Your glory. Give me peace, strength, and renewed purpose to serve You well in whatever comes next. In Jesus’ name, amen.