Something I’ve learned over the past five years:

Friends are revealed when you’re at your worst, not your best—when you're at the bottom, not the top.

When you have nothing to offer but liability to anyone who comes close, that’s when you take notice of who is still with you.

For pastors, it is very, very hard to experience true friendships.

Many times, it turns out that they weren’t really your friend to begin with.

Carey Niuwhof writes: “They were using you, or rather, using your power as a leader.

Beyond the power to hire and fire, you also hold the power to determine the mission and direction of the organization. Your words weigh more, and you have the clout that simply accompanies the position you hold, whether you feel like you do or not.

As a result—and here’s the dynamic—people build relationships with you for reasons other than just pure friendship.

Sometimes they’ve built a relationship with you because they want to be close to their leader or they want some influence over the organization’s future direction. Other times, they’re just drawn to the leader’s charisma.” (See: Why They’re Not Really Your Friends)

But here’s the thing: pastors need friends — real friends — they can depend on.

And so you have to fight for them. You have to double-down, grit-it-out fight for real friendships as a leader. And you have to learn to trust again after you’ve been burned.

If you’re like me, you’ve experienced friends leaving your life. For whatever reason.

If you have a grudge or a hurt or a misunderstanding that needs attending to, pick up the phone and make the first move.

Contrary to our instincts, hard conversations usually don't kill relationships.

They save them.

It's choosing the short, life-saving pain of surgery over the long-term, fatal pain of cancer.