Sherian McCoy 10/23/25 Sherian McCoy 10/23/25

When the Story Gets Rewritten

There’s a quiet ache many parents are carrying right now — the ache of estrangement.
Not because they stopped loving, or stopped praying, but because their child has begun to rewrite the story.

It’s a growing trend: therapists or influencers helping young adults “redefine” their childhoods, often casting imperfect but loving parents as villains in narratives of harm. Yes, there are stories where real trauma occurred, and healing must happen. But in so many cases, it’s another way the enemy is distorting what God designed for redemption.

Sherian McCoy 10/8/25 Sherian McCoy 10/8/25

When the Shepherd Looks Away

Sometimes it’s not the wolves that wound the deepest — it’s the silence of the shepherd.

We’ve all done it. We’ve all looked away from what made us uncomfortable, from pain we didn’t cause, from stories that weren’t ours to tell. But to the one who is hurting, silence can feel like agreement.

Sherian McCoy 9/11/25 Sherian McCoy 9/11/25

When the Leaves Begin to Fall

Sherian McCoy 8/31/25 Sherian McCoy 8/31/25

When You Can’t Do, You Can Pray

Sherian McCoy 8/18/25 Sherian McCoy 8/18/25

Discernment in the Dark

Last night I dreamed of a familiar face—someone who once walked away, cut off contact, and built walls where there had once been friendship. In the dream, they showed up at my house while we were getting ready for church. They looked me in the eyes and said, “I need help. I need community. Will you forgive me?”

It felt so real. But instead of coming with us to worship, they wanted us to follow them—to their church.

So we did.

What we walked into was chaos. The so-called pastor stood on the stage bare-chested, speaking untruths, and then lit up a joint as if it were part of the service. My spirit recoiled. This wasn’t worship. This wasn’t truth. This was heresy dressed up as church.

When we left, I told my friend: This isn’t about preference. It’s about truth. Discernment matters—not only for you, but for your children.

Outside, a young man sat by our car in a small box, inhaling drugs to numb whatever pain he carried. My heart broke. How many prodigals are right outside the doors of false teaching, boxed in by lies and addiction, just waiting for someone to stop and see them?

And then I woke up. The clock read 4:44.

The number 4 in Scripture speaks of God’s created order: four seasons, four corners of the earth, four living creatures around the throne (Revelation 4). In triplicate, it felt like the Lord was whispering, “My order will stand, even when the world descends into chaos.”