Sometimes the best friendships are the ones you never see coming. I met this wild, energetic guy named Matt McKee out of the blue at a conference in Washington, D.C. We struck up a conversation about life-changing technology—how it can shape culture, protect families, and build communities—and something just clicked. From that moment on, we became friends.

Matt was a pastor turned tech entrepreneur, which made perfect sense if you knew him. He had the heart of a shepherd and the mind of a builder. He didn’t just want to create things—he wanted to create meaningful things. Things that mattered. Things that helped people.

Ours wasn’t the kind of friendship that showed up in weekly hangouts or group photos. It was the kind built on purpose—quick calls, idea-sharing, and introductions that could change the game. Matt and I had this shared ability to connect the right people at the right time. He’d hit me up out of nowhere with something big he was working on, asking, “Hey, do you know someone who could help with this?” And more often than not, we made it happen.

I remember clearly when he got involved with Bark, the tech company focused on keeping kids safe online. He believed in the mission with every fiber of his being. He called me needing a connection to a major carrier. It wasn’t just about closing a deal—it was about protecting families. That’s who Matt was. He wasn’t chasing success; he was chasing significance.

Matt and I had similar personalities. We didn’t just see people—we saw people. Every interaction felt like an opportunity, not for what someone could do, but for who they were becoming. We believed that everyone had potential—even if it wasn’t visible yet. And while the impact might not be immediate, we knew that person could someday touch someone else's life. That’s the way God made us—to live in community, to build into one another.

We both had a unique way of connecting the dots—because we saw technology and faith not as separate worlds, but as partners in purpose. We never looked at things simply as they were, but always as what they could become. Yep—sometimes we’d dream up ideas that others just couldn’t wrap their heads around. But for the ones who got us, they could see it. They could see how God was working through these ideas and how they could truly serve and connect people in ministry.

When we take the time to truly see someone, to ask questions and understand what makes them tick, we get a glimpse of the potential God placed inside them. That mindset shaped the way Matt lived. It shaped the way we connected. And it’s something I carry with me still.

In 2023, God moved me and my family to Atlanta. I was genuinely excited—Matt was here, and I thought, finally, we’ll get some time together. Talk shop. Dream big. Keep doing what we’ve always done: look at the world through the lens of what could be.

During that season, I was being recruited by several organizations, and we had real choices to make—California, Ohio, Washington D.C., or Atlanta. Each opportunity had its own appeal, but we were prayerfully trying to discern where God was calling us. Right in the middle of that, Matt called again. This time, it wasn’t a tech connection—it was a heart one. He asked if I’d ever consider a role with an organization called Hopeware. He believed in their mission and thought it might align with what God was doing in my life.

I ended up having a series of incredible conversations with the Hopeware team—Michael Lukaszewski, Chris Lema, Tim Whitacre, and of course, Matt. It was thoughtful, energizing, and purpose-filled. They weren’t just building tech; they were building something meaningful for the Kingdom. It was the kind of space where calling and innovation could meet. Just the kind of space Matt always dreamed about.

Not long after those conversations, other opportunities surfaced, and we made the decision as a family to step into a new season with First Baptist Atlanta. When I told Matt about the decision, I’ll never forget his response:

"I had a feeling you were going there. I’ve been praying for you and your family, and I just felt that’s where God needed you."

How can you argue with that? That was Matt—faithful, grounded, and always in your corner.

As I settled into my new role at FBA, I got a call from Matt. Just like old times, we chatted about some ideas, swapped thoughts, and started dreaming again. A few days later, I got a text from him. Classic Matt. It read:

“Mark meet Scott. Scott meet Mark. Mark is a long-trusted friend who is unbelievably connected here in Atlanta. Scott is a long-time friend who just became the head of technology at First Baptist Atlanta. You two need to connect. Then you can thank me later.”

That was him in a nutshell. Always connecting, always giving, always thinking five steps ahead.

It felt like a new chapter was opening. But only a few months later, his battle with cancer would take him Home.

I still think about him often. And honestly, every day I feel like Matt is still whispering ideas at me. A few months ago, I started working on some code for an app called WePray—a simple, meaningful platform to help people pray for each other—modeled after a ministry approach developed by my friend Dwayne Carson, who I talk with every week. That project has Matt’s fingerprints all over it. He saw technology not just as a tool, but as a bridge between people and purpose.

More than anything, I think about what Matt taught me—always see the world with possibilities, and invest in people like it matters. Because it does.

Our friendship wasn’t flashy, but it was real. And it mattered. It shaped how I lead, how I connect, and how I look at the world.

Here’s to the unsung friendships that shape our lives in quiet, powerful ways.

And here’s to Matt—pastor, entrepreneur, connector, and friend—who helped so many of us believe that even the wildest ideas could become something meaningful, and that God’s timing is always the right timing.