The Middle Sister: Life in the In-Between
“There’s just something about a middle sister that draws you to her,” winemaker Terry Wheatley told Wine Business in a 2015 interview (Wine Business, 2015).
I am the second of four children. Three girls came first and then a youngest brother.
I am not the trailblazing firstborn.
I am not the baby boy who still gets all the oohs and ahhs.
I am not even the baby sister.
I sit squarely in the middle of the sisters.
If you are picturing a quiet, overlooked middle child, think again. Middle kids have a reputation for being the wild ones or the free spirits who keep everyone guessing. I fit the stereotype perfectly. I was the rebel of the bunch, a walking tantrum through most of childhood and defiant all the way through high school. I finally started to calm down only because I grew tired of keeping up with myself.
Apparently, the mystique of the middle sister goes beyond family stories. It was strong enough that Terry Wheatley even turned it into a successful wine label.
Middle in More Than Birth Order
I live in the middle of almost everything.
Politically, I lean conservative when it comes to fiscal discipline and personal responsibility, yet I value the way many Democrats emphasize respect for every person and invite open conversation.
My professional life is just as blended. I’m a preventative-health nutritionist who relies on research and data, and I’m also a BioEnergetics practitioner who works with energy-based methods that explore how the body responds to subtle signals. Evidence and intuition share the same scheduler.
Even the way I write sits between categories. I use AI to help with early drafts and then rewrite every sentence until it carries my own voice. It is not a fully automated project and it is not a purely traditional one. It is human effort supported by a useful tool and guided, I hope, by the Holy Spirit.
My faith holds a similar mix. I’m drawn to the richness of the historic church with its creeds and ancient rhythms, and I also listen when thoughtful voices challenge traditions and invite fresh ways of thinking.
Standing in these spaces can feel like being in the middle of a wide bridge. But from that middle you can see both horizons. You can translate one language into another. You can help build connections strong enough for others to cross.
I had hoped to release my first children’s apologetics book by Labor Day. It is now September 26 and the manuscript is still on my desk. I am not yet the published author I imagined, but I am no longer just a dreamer with a rough idea either. I stand in that wide and awkward middle writing, revising, and learning as I go.
Lessons from Voices We’ve Lost
I am stepping into apologetics professionally for the first time. I am still learning the art of giving reasons for faith with gentleness and respect, and I feel like a beginner every day. This moment is exhilarating and frightening. Public conversations about faith can turn harsh in an instant, and stepping forward feels like walking onto unsteady ground.
I’m mindful of the giants whose voices we lost this month. Apologists like Voddie Baucham and public figures such as Charlie Kirk spoke with courage about truth. Now they stand with their Maker, and their absence leaves a gap on earth. They remind me that how we speak matters just as much as what we say.
I tell my kids this almost as often as I say, ‘Get in the car.’ My reminder usually sounds like, ‘It isn’t about what you said, it’s about how you said it.’ I can practically see the eye rolls as I type out this common Nadeau family quote.
So here’s the real question: Can clear conviction coexist with deep grace?
Yesterday my pastor encouraged me to watch Baucham’s last sermon, Be Careful How You Talk About Christ’s Bride (Baucham 2025). Early in the message he warns how easily we talk about “the church” as if it were a single culture: “That’s kind of like you meeting somebody from Saskatoon, Saskatchewan, and asking them if they know someone in Chihuahua, Mexico, just because it’s on the same continent” (Baucham). His point is sharp: sweeping statements like “the church is racist” or “the church is irrelevant” paint with a brush so broad that it misrepresents the body of Christ (Baucham).
That reminder meets me right where I live, in the middle. I often stand between traditions, viewpoints, and even disciplines. Baucham’s words call me to honor the rich variety within Christ’s church and to guard my own speech. Differences among believers are not blemishes to criticize but facets of a larger beauty. To dismiss them because they do not match my perspective is to miss the bigger picture of Christ’s body.
It also shapes how I think about strong voices in our culture. Charlie Kirk’s blunt style has offended many, but perhaps that is part of why he reached people others could not. Offense can become a catalyst for growth if we let it push us to examine the issues ourselves. When a comment from Kirk unsettles you, do you research it and weigh the evidence? If not, it’s a missed opportunity.
The same is true for Baucham. If you read his books or listen to his sermons and feel challenged, did you wrestle with the arguments until you understood where he was coming from even if you ultimately disagree? Meeting in the middle often begins with that kind of honest work: letting offense spark careful study, listening before dismissing, and speaking only after you truly grasp the other side.
Apologetics often receive a reputation for being combative. Yet the best communication, whether online or face to face, happens in the middle ground where convictions remain strong and the edges stay soft. That is not a compromise. It is humility. It is the discipline of listening while standing firm.
Even A.I. has labeled me ‘progressive.’ That word surprises me and some traditional apologists use it as a critique. Progressive is not who I am. It is never how I thought of myself, growing up in a traditional home and church. Maybe that label comes simply because I pause before I speak and because I hold and respect another person’s background and perspective first. Knowing someone’s story before opening my mouth is second nature after years of preventative health training.
In the end, that posture is not progressive at all. It is the very practice of staying in the middle ground where grace and conviction meet.
The Gift of the Middle
Perhaps this is why God keeps me in the middle.
It is where diplomacy lives.
It is where questions can breathe.
It is where obedience often begins with one small, quiet yes.
If you feel caught between identities, deadlines, or definitions, take heart. The middle is not wasted space. It is the bridge God builds while no one is watching. Sometimes the bridge is the point.
Reference
Wine Business. 2015. “Middle Sister Gets a Makeover.” Wine Business, May 1, 2015. https://www.winebusiness.com/news/newreleases/article/151434.
Baucham, Voddie. 2025. “Be Careful How You Talk About Christ’s Bride.” Founders Ministries. YouTube video, August 2025. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7nX2MzSDhGE.