33 ALMOST TOOK ME OUT !!

December 2025. I was sitting with everything I'd been carrying, motherhood, the business, the vision, the weight of trying to build something real with no funding — and I just... crashed.

Not dramatically. Not all at once. It was quieter than that. More like a slow deflation. I remember sitting on the bathroom floor thinking: How can this small girl want to take on something this big? Who do I think I am? The mission felt enormous. The resources felt non-existent. And for the first time in a long time, I felt genuinely hopeless.

I didn't have £1 to my name. Literally. Not a pound.

Then a letter arrived.

I rolled my eyes before I even opened it — another bill, another enforcement notice, probably something I'd already dealt with. I'd sold my car over a year ago. Whatever this was, I didn't have the bandwidth for it.

It was a cheque. A reimbursement. £400.

When does that ever happen? You sell a car, walk away, and over a year later — at the exact moment you need it — the money finds you.

I laughed. Then I cried. Then I remembered that I am not doing this alone.

God is really working for me.

What people mean when they say "Jesus year"

Some people call 33 a Jesus year a reflection of the life of Christ, who died and rose again at that age. A year of death and rebirth. A year of becoming. A year of alignment.

But here's the part no one tells you upfront:

Before anything can be resurrected, something in you has to die first.

A Jesus year isn't about perfection. It's not about arriving. It's about transformation — the uncomfortable, unsexy, slow-burn kind. It's the year your identity is stretched. Your comfort is disrupted. Your faith stops being theoretical and starts becoming something you actually have to live. Like actually...

It's less about finding yourself and more about losing everything that was never aligned in the first place.

My 33: breaking and becoming

This was the hardest year of my life. It broke me mentally, spiritually, emotionally - in ways I genuinely didn't see coming. I got baptised this year too (post on that incoming), and something in me shifted the moment I came up out of that water. A new lens. Clarity I couldn't manufacture on my own. Conviction that didn't come from a podcast or a vision board.

Not because life became easy. But because I finally understood what it actually meant to surrender. Obedience can be PAINFUL.

And yet — even in the middle of all of that — I was still moving. Still building. Still showing up.

I built a new operations arm of TFB Studios in Lagos. I chose to be fully present as a mother. I found real, life-giving friendships — not performance, not proximity, actual community. And I went deeper in the Word than I ever had before.

You can be in the hardest season of your life and still be in the most aligned place you've ever been. That's the paradox no one talks about.

Three things 33 taught me

LESSON ONE

Alignment over everything

Obedience will take you further than strategy ever could. I spent so much energy trying to engineer outcomes. Then I started simply asking: is this aligned? The answer changed everything about where I put my energy.

"Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding." — Proverbs 3:5–6

LESSON TWO

Stop shrinking

I caught myself making myself smaller — qualifying my vision, hedging my confidence, downplaying what I was building because it felt presumptuous. But there is value inside of you that people genuinely need. That's not arrogance. That's stewardship. Stop hiding it.

"A city set on a hill cannot be hidden." — Matthew 5:14

LESSON THREE

Let go and let God

I used to think surrender meant giving up. I understand now that it's actually where peace begins. When I stopped white-knuckling the plan and started committing the direction, things started to move — including a £400 cheque from an enforcement agency I'd written off entirely.

"Commit your way to the Lord; trust in him and he will act." — Psalm 37:5

If you're in your Jesus year right now — if it feels heavy, confusing, or like more than you signed up for — I need you to hear this:

You're not lost. You're being refined.

God doesn't just call you. He processes you. And sometimes the version of you that's meant to rise can only come after everything else falls away.

The crash-out in December? It was part of it. The empty account? Part of it. The unexpected cheque? Part of it too.

All of it is working together. Even the parts that don't look like it yet.

If this resonated with you, drop a comment :)

Stay Blessed,

Misi