The Start of Something New

Ecclesiates 3:1-3 “To everything there is a season, and a time for every purpose under heaven. A time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted; a time to kill, and a time to heal; a time to break down, and a time to build up.”

Some beginnings don’t feel like fireworks.

They feel like silence. Sweat. Long walks. A full heart and an empty room.

That’s where The McCoy Catalog began, not in some boardroom or brainstorm, but in the quiet stretch of time where I started rebuilding my life: spiritually, physically, financially, and emotionally. Not for anyone else. For me. For who I’m becoming. For who I’ll leave behind.

This isn’t a blog. It’s a reflection for men in motion.

It’s a space for the man who lifts before sunrise, reads scripture when no one’s watching, saves his money, sharpens his words, and steps back from noise to move with purpose.

I’m not here to tell you how to live.

But I know what it feels like to go without a map.

I know what it’s like to sit in the middle of your own story and ask, “Is this where it changes?”

This catalog is for that moment.

It’s for the Builder’s Season, when you’re not trying to impress anyone, just trying to stay locked in. To get stronger. To choose your future over your feelings.

Here, you’ll find reflections, rituals, and seasonal drops, not just products, but relics. Things that mean something. Words that hold weight. Ideas that build men.

There’s a man I haven’t met yet, but I see him.

He wakes up early.

He prays before he speaks.

He walks like he’s been through something, but he’s not bitter, just sharper.

That man doesn’t need to be loud.

He knows when to speak and when to let silence say it better.

He dresses with intention, not to be seen, but to stay grounded.

He trains his body, not for vanity, but for discipline.

He’s got a Bible that’s been folded, carried, cried on, and written through.

I’m not him yet. But I’m building toward him.

Every early morning, every quiet workout, every skipped night out, every journal page… it’s all for him.

I’ve had moments where I slipped back into old habits, chasing validation, escaping through distraction, forgetting who I said I wanted to be.

But I come back. And when I do, he’s still there, waiting.

He doesn’t ask for perfection.

He just wants me to keep moving.

That’s what this catalog is for.

Not the man I’ve been, but the one I’m becoming.

The one I want my son to meet one day.

The one who builds now so his future doesn’t have to rebuild everything from scratch.

If you see yourself in that, welcome.

You’re not alone. And you’re not done.