Jason DeFord, known as Jelly Roll, stood on the Grammy stage holding a pocket Bible.
Before the music swelled and the cameras cut away, he spoke directly to God.
“First of all, Jesus, I hear you, and I’m listening, Lord,” he said. “I would have never changed my life without you. I’d have ended up dead or in jail. I’d have killed myself if it wasn’t for you and Jesus.”
Two weeks ago, standing inside the packed downtown Los Angeles Crypto.com Arena, he had just won three Grammy Awards, including Best Contemporary Country Album for Whitsitt Chapel. Years earlier, he had sat inside a 6-by-8-foot jail cell with a radio and a Bible the same size as the one he held that night.
He told the audience those two things changed his life.
Jelly Roll grew up in Antioch, Tennessee. As a teenager, he cycled through juvenile detention centers. His early twenties were marked by addiction and drug charges. In interviews, he has described long nights alone in a cell, ashamed and uncertain whether he would ever live differently.
Music followed him through that season. So did Scripture. He has said that reading the Bible in confinement forced him to sit still long enough to confront who he had become. He speaks often about becoming a father and realizing he wanted to break a generational pattern of addiction and instability.
At the Grammys, he looked into the crowd and said, “Jesus is for everybody. Jesus is not owned by one political party. Jesus is not owned by no music label. Jesus is Jesus, and anybody can have a relationship with Him.”
For Christians, that language carries weight. The message of the Gospel has always reached people in cells, in addiction, in shame. Paul wrote in 2 Corinthians 5:17 that anyone in Christ becomes a new creation. Jelly Roll’s story reflects that pattern in real time.
The response online came quickly.
Some questioned his sincerity. Others suggested his faith was strategic. His wife, Alisa DeFord, known publicly as Bunnie Xo, addressed the reaction on her “Dumb Blonde” podcast.
She described the backlash as “horrific” and “borderline demonic.” She and Jelly Roll have been married since 2016. She has walked through his sobriety, his rise in music, and her own journey out of addiction. In her memoir Stripped Down: Unfiltered and Unapologetic, she writes about wrestling with faith after growing up around believers whose actions left deep wounds.
“My husband’s not sitting there saying, ‘You need to go to church,’” she said. “All he’s saying is, ‘Hey, Jesus is for everybody. Jesus loves you.’ And the internet lost their minds.”
Her frustration points to something many believers recognize. When faith shows up in public, it often draws scrutiny. Scripture has long prepared Christians for that reality. Jesus told His followers in John 15 that the world would resist Him and those who follow Him.
Jelly Roll continues to speak about Christ in interviews and concerts. He visits jails. He talks openly about relapse temptations and the daily discipline of sobriety. His concerts draw fans who share similar histories of addiction, incarceration and loss. Many of them say his story mirrors their own.
The image from the Grammy stage lingers: a heavily tattooed country artist lifting a small Bible in a room filled with industry executives and celebrities.
Years ago, that Bible sat in a jail cell beside a radio.
Now it rests in his hand under arena lights.
The message he carried from one place to the other remains the same.
Feature photo: Jelly Roll holds up award while speaking at the Grammy Awards in Los Angeles, 2026. (Screenshot/YouTube)
