“For we walk by faith, not by sight.” – 2 Corinthians 5:7

I used to think everything was either right or wrong, black or white, holy or not. But then life happened. And I learned that most of it unfolds in the middle, in the murky, unmarked spaces where certainty is scarce and answers don’t come tied in bows.

There are seasons that challenge your beliefs, your boundaries, and your ability to extend kindness when you’re not sure what kindness even looks like. It’s easy to offer grace when the rules are clear. It’s harder when they’re not. When you’re watching someone you love wrestle with choices that don’t make sense to you. When you’re standing at the edge of something that feels holy but doesn’t look like anything you’ve ever been taught. When God calls you to love people whose story you don’t understand.

That is the gray.

And if we’re being honest, it’s where most of us live.

Jesus walked straight into the gray. He didn’t demand perfect theology from the woman at the well. He didn’t shame the bleeding woman for touching the hem of His robe without permission. He didn’t ask Zacchaeus to clean up before inviting Himself to dinner. He offered grace first, and it changed everything.

I’ve had to learn to stop trying to color in the lines God didn’t draw. To let grace do its work where my understanding ends. To trust that love covers a multitude of sins, even when I’m not sure how to begin the conversation. Especially then.

Grace doesn’t excuse. But it does redeem.

It steps in with open arms when the world points fingers. It speaks softly in the loud, divisive places. And sometimes it just sits beside the wounded without needing to fix a thing.

If you find yourself in a gray season today, know this: God is not confused by where you are. He is not limited by what you don’t know. He is not waiting on you to be right. He is inviting you to be real.

And there’s room for that.

Even here.