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.”
This reminds me of the following scriptures;
“Beloved, do not believe every spirit, but test the spirits to see whether they are from God, for many false prophets have gone out into the world.”
(1 John 4:1, ESV)
“For God is not a God of confusion but of peace.”
(1 Corinthians 14:33, ESV)
Sometimes the prodigals who return will invite us back into their world instead of stepping into the Father’s house. Sometimes what looks like repentance is only a surface need for comfort without surrender. And sometimes the loudest voices calling themselves church are nothing more than wolves in disguise.
Discernment is not about being critical—it’s about clinging to truth. It’s about measuring everything against the Word of God, even if it costs us relationship or reputation.
And yet, in the middle of calling out heresy, God reminds us not to overlook the broken by the car, the ones trapped in boxes, the young and wounded who are inhaling lies just to survive another day.
Truth and compassion. Discernment and love. Judgment and mercy. These are not opposites—they belong together, just as they did in Jesus. It looks like love.
May the Lord give us discernment to see what is true and what is false. Keep us from following voices that twist His Word. And at the same time, soften our hearts for the broken ones outside the door—those numbing their pain in a thousand counterfeit ways. Help us hold truth in one hand and compassion in the other. May our porch always be a place where Your order, not chaos, is seen.
