THE MESSY MIDDLE: AND WHY JESUS ISN’T DONE WITH YOU.
Isaiah 41:10
“Do not fear, for i am with you, do not be afraid, for i am your god; i will strengthen you, i will help you, i will uphold you with my victorious right hand.”
You guessed it. We stayed together.
Yeah. Adam and I. You know, the guy who forgave me. We didn’t run. We didn’t break up. We didn’t walk away from the chaos.
We got married.
Wild, right?
Two broken people trying to outrun their pasts, clinging to each other like life rafts. Not because it was holy. Not because it was wise. But because we were terrified of drowning alone.
We thought our love would save us. We thought marriage would fix us. We thought commitment would heal us.
It didn’t.
If you’re reading this thinking, “I keep messing up. I keep sinning. I keep falling. I’ll never get this right.” then hear me clearly:
You’re exactly the kind of woman Jesus came for.
Our first year of marriage wasn’t holy. it was war.
My insecurities were loud. My temptations were louder.
I was still craving attention I had no business craving. Still lying. Not exactly big lies, but the tiny ones that rot your soul from the inside out. I was still hiding pieces of myself because shame was familiar and honesty felt foreign.
I was saved, but I was still sinful. Still broken. Still messy.
If that’s you. If you’re saved but still sinning. You’re not failing. You’re human.
The house that haunted me
We were trying to fix up my old house so we could sell it. Every time I walked inside, I felt sick. Hot. Panicked. Like something evil was sitting in the corner watching me.
That house held every version of me I hated:
the liar
the addict
the cheater
the manipulator
the girl who used people
the girl who hurt people
the girl who didn’t care if she lived or died
And Jesus kept whispering:
“Let it go. Let it go. Let it go.”
But I was stubborn. One foot in the past. One foot in the future. Stuck in the doorway of my own life.
I wasn’t ready to pray out loud. I wasn’t ready to surrender. I wasn’t ready to be seen by God.
I talked to Him in my mind, but out loud? No way. I felt watched. Judged. Exposed.
You ever feel that? Like praying out loud makes you feel naked?
Yeah. Me too.
I ran from community like it was fire
I tried joining a women’s group at church. I lasted maybe five minutes.
The moment I realized those women were struggling with the same things I was; I bolted. Not because they scared me, but because they mirrored me. And I wasn’t ready to face myself yet.
I tried joining the worship team. I tried leading a group. I tried making new friends, but let’s be honest. I was incapable of real friendship back then. I didn’t know how to be a good friend because I didn’t even know how to love myself.
I tried doing all the “Christian things.” Serving. Showing up. Pretending I was fine. I was still pretending to be someone I was not.
Nothing worked.
I felt doomed. Like God was pulling me in every direction, and I was sprinting the opposite way. He was trying to drag me into healing, and I was clawing my way back into the familiar hell I came from.
Because sometimes the old you feels safer than the new you Jesus is trying to build.
“God, what do you WANT from me? Why can’t I get this right? Why am I still such a mess?”
If you’ve ever prayed that. YOU’RE MY PEOPLE!
The door God opened when I wasn’t looking
I thought maybe helping others would help me get close to God. So I told Adam I wanted to go to massage therapy school.
That’s where everything started to shift.
I showed up on the first day. I had my lunch packed. My heart was full. I was feeling so good. I was ready to finally finish something in my life.
That’s when they told me the program didn’t start until April because I was the only student who had enrolled for the winter class.
I wanted to quit right there. Cry in my car. Go home and say, “See? Nothing ever works out for me.”
When you’ve lived your whole life expecting disappointment, you don’t even look for the good
But then God stepped in.
Grace #1
The owner who was actually my educator when I went to cosmetology school. She remembered me as the half‑effort student. I had convinced her I was turning a new leaf, and she took a chance on me. She agreed to allow me to start that day!
Grace #2
A woman in purple scrubs walked out. Purple which is my favorite color. Smiling like sunshine. Glowing like she swallowed heaven.
Her name was Lesa.
She didn’t preach Jesus to me. She lived Him.
The way she loved people. The way she gave grace. The way she believed in me. The way she looked at me like I wasn’t trash.
I watched her. I studied her. I absorbed her.
And through her, I learned who Jesus was.
Not through sermons. Not through Bible studies. Not through church groups.
Through a woman who glowed with the Holy Spirit.
The softening of a hard heart
I started praying for my clients during their massages. Quietly. Secretly. Softly.
That’s when something started happening.
My heart started to melt. My anger started to fade. My joy started to grow.
I was surrendering without even realizing it.
I graduated. I passed my MBLEX. I finished something for the first time in my life. I was starting to feel like I was part of something bigger.
I wasn’t beyond grace. I wasn’t beyond healing. I wasn’t beyond redemption.
Neither are you.
The part that hurts to admit
This part is going to hurt. But I need to say it because someone needs to hear it.
When you start doing good, the devil comes harder.
Adam and I started fighting again. The insecurities came back. The screaming. The slamming doors. The name‑calling. The chaos.
I would lose my mind. I would hurt him before he could hurt me. That was my “safety net.”
I was still drinking when we went out. Still smoking weed at night. Still angry at my kids. Still yelling. Still scaring them at times.
I’m ashamed of that. It’s a demon that still haunts me.
I was feeling like the devil won. I am a horrible wife and a horrible mother. I am not cut out for this life.
But here’s the truth,
Jesus didn’t save the perfect version of me. He saved the real one.
The Shift. When Jesus started winning
This is where I started to really surrender.
I started praying out loud. I started feeling conviction. I started apologizing. I started asking for forgiveness.
A year earlier, you would’ve NEVER heard “I’m sorry” come out of my mouth and mean it.
But Jesus was changing me. Softening me. Breaking me open.
Adam forgave me. I forgave him. We stopped running from each other. We started fighting FOR each other.
My girls and I healed too. I apologized to them. I owned my sins. I told them the truth. We worked through the hurt.
Now we’re close. Now they know I never meant to hurt them. Now they know Jesus changed me and they know Him!
This was my turning Point, and it can be yours too
This season, this messy, chaotic, painful season. It was the beginning of my transformation.
Not the end. Not the finish line. Not the “I’m healed now” moment.
The beginning.
The moment I realized:
I’m not meant to be perfect. I’m meant to be His.
And so are you.
You’re not failing because you’re still sinning. You’re not failing because you’re still struggling. You’re not failing because you’re still tempted. You’re not failing because you still fall into old patterns.
You’re human. You’re in process. You’re being sanctified. You’re being shaped. You’re being softened.
The closing you need to hear
Listen to me.
You are a work in progress. A story God is still writing. A heart He is still healing. A woman He is still pursuing.
You don’t have to be perfect to be loved. You don’t have to be sinless to be chosen. You don’t have to have it all together to be redeemed.
Jesus came for the filthy. The messy. The insecure. The angry. The lustful. The liars. The broken. The ones who keep falling.
He came for women like me. He came for women like you.
And He’s not done with either of us.
Not even close.
A Prayer For The Woman In The Middle
Jesus,
I lift up the woman reading this, the one who loves You but still feels trapped between who she used to be and who You’re shaping her to become. The one who keeps slipping, keeps fighting, keeps trying, and keeps wondering why she isn’t “fixed” yet.
Remind her she’s not alone. Remind her she’s not too far gone. Remind her that You didn’t save the perfect version of her, You saved the real one.
Meet her in the middle of her mess. Meet her in the temptation, the shame, the old habits that still whisper her name. Show her that You’re not disappointed in her, but that You’re drawing her closer.
Give her the strength to let go of her past. Give her courage to step into the new life You’re calling her toward. And when she falls, remind her that grace is still hers.
Thank You for coming for women like her. Women like me. Women who are still learning, still growing, still being redeemed.
In your Holy Name,
Amen.
