When I Try to Be the Holy Spirit in My Marriage
There are moments when I get impatient with my husband. Not because he is unloving or careless, but because I forget that his walk with Jesus is not supposed to look exactly like mine. I tend to overlook that my frustration is mistaken for righteous concern. I would love to sit here and tell you that this is a brand-new revelation, but that is simply not the truth. In fact, Jason and I have been struggling with different levels of this revelation throughout our nearly 26 years of marriage. As I write this, we have been married for 25 years. You would think we would have figured out by now how to navigate our relationship with each other in Jesus Christ, but that is an unrealistic expectation for both of us. Sometimes my desire for spiritual growth in our marriage turns into pressure instead of prayer. I do not mean to condemn my husband when I get preachy about where his relationship with Christ is, but that is exactly how it comes across.
The Holy Spirit brings true conviction along with the way forward. I just sound like I am barking orders and giving instructions about what I think it should look like. You can only imagine how the rest of the day goes, especially when we have not prayed about the conversation first. Let me tell you! There are lots of little thoughts that creep in both of our heads the rest of the day that increase tension and drive a wedge instead of bringing us closer together. Does that look like Jesus? NOPE!!!
When my voice steps into Holy Spirit territory
This is usually how it starts: we are driving, watching TV, or getting ready for the day, and Jason makes a comment about something that is weighing on him. Sometimes it is worrying. Sometimes it is frustration. Sometimes it is helplessness over a situation involving someone he deeply cares about.
That is when my fix-it brain jumps in with, “Have you prayed about that?” His answer is often honest and vulnerable: “Not yet. I have thought about it a lot, but I do not know what to do.” In moments like that, the loving response would be simple: “Let’s pray about it now.” But too often, that is not what comes out of me.
Instead, I respond with something sharper: “Why not? God’s Word says to bring everything to Him in prayer!” Even writing that makes me wince. It sounds far more accusatory than compassionate. Rather than helping Jason bring his concern to Jesus, I end up making him feel judged.
That is the opposite of what Romans 8:1–2 teaches: “There is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus. For the law of the Spirit of life has set you free in Christ Jesus from the law of sin and death.” When the Holy Spirit brings conviction, He draws us closer to Jesus. When my impatience takes over, it can sound like condemnation instead.
And the damage does not stop at Jason. He feels discouraged, and I end up frustrated with myself for not stopping to pray with him first. What began as concern quickly becomes tension. Instead of creating space for grace, I create a wedge between us.
Romans 14:13 says, “Let’s stop condemning each other. Decide instead to live in such a way that you will not cause another believer to stumble and fall.”
That verse feels especially weighty in marriage. Sometimes the stumbling block is not an obvious sin or an outside temptation. Sometimes it is my tone, my impatience, or my need to correct something the Holy Spirit never asked me to carry.
If my words make it harder for my husband to hear the heart of Jesus, then I need to pause. I may be noticing something real, but if I speak from frustration, it can become condemnation instead of encouragement. And if that is the effect of my words, then I am no longer helping—I am hindering.
Our spiritual growth did not begin in the same place
Before I go further, I want to say clearly that we both love our parents deeply. They were—and still are—good people. Imperfect? Yes. But they did the best they could with what they had.
Jason’s parents, in particular, have support.
Ted us in many ways over the years. They have offered wisdom, encouragement, and guidance throughout our marriage, even when our own choices led us into difficult seasons.
At the same time, neither of us was given a clear model of what a Christ-centered marriage was supposed to look like. Without going into all the details of our families’ stories, the truth is that the people who raised us were still learning their own relationship with Christ too.
That meant Jason and I had to learn many things the hard way. We were not only figuring out how to build a healthy marriage, but also how to stay connected to Christ together. And if I am being honest, when I say we, I often mean me. I had to learn not to punish my husband for what neither of us had been taught.
Even so, growth is still growth. Proverbs 4:18 says, “The path of the righteous grows brighter.” If a path grows brighter, that means it does not begin in full light. It begins in darkness. We both brought dark places, blind spots, and broken patterns into our marriage—but the Holy Spirit does not leave us there.
Transformation takes time. It happens little by little as we walk through situations that teach us to keep our eyes fixed on Jesus. That is why 2 Corinthians 3:18 matters so much to me: we are being transformed “from glory to glory.” I have heard that phrase many times throughout my life, but I am learning to see it more personally now. Spiritual growth is not instant. It is a lifelong process of being shaped by Christ, one step at a time.
His walk with Jesus does not have to look like mine
One of the things I realized later in our marriage is that my relationship with Jesus is not supposed to look exactly like anyone else’s—and neither is my husband’s. If that is true for every believer, why would I expect Jason’s walk with Christ to be a copy-and-paste version of mine? It simply does not make sense.
My pastor, who is also a trusted friend, has reminded me of this more than once. Sometimes he says it gently, and sometimes more directly, depending on my tone. When I start focusing on where I think Jason should be spiritually, he is quick to remind me how much Jason has grown over the years. And he is right—Jason has grown.
It is not my responsibility to micromanage how my husband worships, how he reads the Word, when he reads it, or what stands out to him when he does. That kind of control does not come from peace; it comes from my own assumptions and judgments.
Our expressions of devotion can look very different, and that is okay. For example, when I feel free in worship, I might:
· dance, move, lift my hands, or clap;
· worship openly and without hesitation;
· spread out several Bibles and pages of notes when I am studying something that excites me about Jesus.
That may be natural for me, but it does not need to define what spiritual growth looks like for Jason. His walk with Jesus can be genuine, deep, and fruitful without mirroring mine. The more I accept that, the more room I make for grace, gratitude, and peace in our marriage.
When intention sounds like pressure
In my heart, I want to point Jason to Jesus in every situation. But sometimes the way I say it feels more like pressure than compassion. My intention may be good, yet my delivery can still miss the heart of Christ.
The truth is, Jason has grown so much in Jesus. I see that growth in simple, meaningful ways. For example, when I talk about pain in my body, he often reminds me to speak healing over it. Moments like that encourage me because they show how God is at work in him.
I am also reminded of a story Dr. James Dobson shares in The Five Love Languages about the power of affirmation. A wife was frustrated because her husband would eventually do what she asked, but not when or how she wanted. Dr. Dobson encouraged her to stop repeating the request. She had already made the need known; now she needed to trust that he had heard her. In time, the husband completed the chore without being asked again.
That example challenged me. Instead of nagging, I began focusing on what I needed to practice:
· speaking with faith instead of frustration;
· walking in the authority Christ has given me;
· living out the kind of obedience I hoped to see in our marriage.
As I began to practice those things myself, I noticed something beautiful: Jason started doing some of them on his own, without me saying a word. That was a needed reminder that transformation is the Holy Spirit’s work, not mine.
The reality is that I need to practice the way of Christ in all that I do. As His ways become part of my everyday life, they also shape the atmosphere of our marriage.
Closing: A prayerful surrender
What do you need to surrender in your relationship? Where do you step on the toes of Holy Spirit? Pray this with me:
Dear Abba Father,
Thank You for opening my spiritual eyes, ears, and heart. Help me recognize when I am stepping into a role that belongs only to You in our lives. Remind me when my good intentions become condemnation instead of compassion.
I repent of trying to micromanage other people’s walk with You. Teach me to come to You first instead of responding with frustration to someone else’s growth process. Give me the grace to lay each situation at Your feet before I open my mouth.
Thank You for Your faithfulness and for the truth that Your Word never returns void. I love You, and I long to serve You more deeply each day.
In Jesus’ mighty name, amen.
