When the Shepherd Looks Away

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

Not because the shepherd is cruel, but because silence can sometimes feel safer than stepping into someone else’s pain. We all do it — not just pastors or leaders. We look away from what makes us uncomfortable. We tell ourselves it’s not our place, not our business, or not the right time. But to the one who is hurting, silence can sound a lot like indifference.

There are people in our churches — in our communities — who are walking in quiet pain. The ones who slip out the back door when the sermon ends. The ones who sit on the back row because they used to serve on the front lines. The ones who show up week after week, smiling through tears, worshiping through disappointment, and wondering if anyone really sees them anymore.

They’re not looking for perfect answers. They’re looking for presence.

Pastors and leaders carry a heavy calling — one that no human can shoulder alone. They can’t see every wound or know every story. But shepherding was never meant to be a one-person job. It’s a calling shared among the flock — to watch, to pray, to feed, to protect.

At The Father’s Porch, we’re praying for those who have quietly (or loudly) slipped away — for the ones who left after being hurt, and for the ones who stayed but still grieve privately. Both are loved by the same Father who never looks away.

And we’re praying for pastors — those who are weary, overextended, or uncertain how to address the pain around them. You don’t have to carry the flock alone. Partner with those who can help. Allow trusted ministries, counselors, and intercessors to come alongside you. The body of Christ is strongest when we guard each other, not when we guard our silence.

The Father never turned His face from the hurting. When His children wandered, He pursued them. When they were broken, He bound up their wounds. When they were lost, He left the ninety-nine to find the one.

That is still the model for shepherding today.

Together, we keep watch.

“Know well the condition of your flocks, and give attention to your herds.”
— Proverbs 27:23 (ESV)

If you’re a pastor, ministry leader, or simply someone who feels the weight of caring for the hurting, we’d love to walk with you. The Father’s Porch exists to remind weary hearts — parents, pastors, and prodigals alike — that the light still shines, and the Father is still watching for His children to come home.

If your church wants to learn how to better support families of prodigals or begin a Porch Group in your community, reach out. Together, we can pray, partner, and protect the flock — keeping the porch light on for those still finding their way home.

Sherian McCoy

Hi, I’m Sherian Kaneaster-McCoy—storyteller, porch-sitter, ministry founder, wife, mother, grandmother, and follower of Jesus.

I’ve spent the last two decades walking with women through the hard things—grief, chronic illness, prodigal children, burnout, and healing. I serve as a practitioner in Dr. Tracey Stroup’s Eat, Pray, Faith telehealth practice, where I support clients needing help physically as well as emotionally and spiritually. I’m also honored to serve as Dean of Education at the Academy of Abiding Wellness, equipping others to walk in biblical wisdom and holistic health.

Alongside this work, The Father’s Porch has become a sacred space where I pour out the stories God has written on my heart.

This ministry was born from my own journey as a parent of a prodigal and a lifelong porch-praying woman. It’s a space for the weary—a resting place for those still waiting, still hoping, still praying. Through devotional writing, prayer, and gentle truth, I help others find God in the middle of the story, not just at the end.

Whether I’m telling stories from Scripture or sharing pieces of my own life, I believe in the power of honest words and porchlight hope. The porch is open. The light is on. There’s always a seat for you.

https://www.selahnaturalhealth.com
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When the Leaves Begin to Fall