As a minister, there are things that are difficult to hear and things difficult to say. The words below come from a grateful and gracious heart. However, they are challenging and might be disliked by some.

Maybe these words resonate with you. Maybe, just maybe, you need to say these words.

They are my thoughts. Just mine. This is not a letter from the congregation, or any congregation; it is just some thoughts in letter form.

A Letter to Those We Miss

To those who once walked beside us in worship and fellowship:

We want you to know that you are missed. Not just your presence in a pew, but you—your voice, your encouragement, your place in the family of God. We remember the days when your faith was strong and your commitment was steady. Those memories are still precious to us.

But we also need to speak honestly.

Over time, it has become clear that many who once claimed to know Jesus no longer desire to walk with Him. The words “I’ll be there tomorrow” have become empty promises—filler words that never lead to a changed life.

We have watched people we love drift, not because they don’t know the truth, but because they no longer want to follow it.

We have reached out. We have prayed. We have encouraged. We have called, texted, visited, and waited. Yet, the response has been silence—distance—being “ghosted” by those who once called the congregation home.

We say this with humility; we cannot help someone who does not want to be helped. Even Jesus let people walk away, and when He sent His disciples out, He told them that if a town refused to receive the message, they were to shake the dust off their feet and move on.

There comes a time when Christians must do the same.

Not out of anger. Not out of pride. But out of obedience and spiritual health. Constant rejection eventually becomes discouragement, and discouragement can drain the very people who are trying to do good.

Still, hear this clearly: “You are loved. You are wanted. You are invited back.”

If you ever choose to return to Jesus, we will rejoice. If you ever decide to come home, we will welcome you with open arms. But until that day, we must continue the work God has given us, focusing on those who are hungry for spiritual growth and ready to walk in the light.

We pray for you. We hope for you. Now, we release you to God’s care.

And if the day comes when your heart turns back toward Him, we will be here—ready to walk with you again.

You are being prayed for today.