by Rev Dunamis Okunowo | Sep 5, 2026 | Engaged & Dating
Reading Time: 5 minutesYou find it in the back corner of a secondhand bookstore — a leather journal, half-filled with someone else’s handwriting, love letters between two people whose names you’ll never know, dated decades ago. You read three pages standing in the aisle before your fiancé notices you crying a little and asks what’s wrong. Nothing’s wrong. You’re just thinking about how someone else’s whole love story ended up in a two-dollar bin, unfinished, and it makes you wonder, not for the first time, who’s actually writing yours — you, or someone bigger than you.
This verse was written to Israelites in exile in Babylon, people who had lost their home, their temple, their sense of a future — grieving a story that had gone nowhere near where they expected. Jeremiah’s letter didn’t promise an immediate rescue; it promised something deeper: that God had a plan even inside the chapter that felt like loss.
“For I know the thoughts that I think toward you, says Yahweh, thoughts of peace, and not of evil, to give you hope and a future.” (Jeremiah 29:11)
This verse gets quoted often, sometimes detached entirely from its original context on graduation cards and inspirational posters, but its real meaning is actually sturdier than the greeting-card version. The original audience didn’t get instant relief — a few verses earlier, God tells them the exile will last seventy years (v. 10). The promise wasn’t that hardship would end tomorrow. The promise was that God hadn’t abandoned the story, even in the middle of the chapter that looked like nothing but loss.
It’s worth sitting with how unusual that message would have sounded to its first hearers. Exile wasn’t a metaphor to them; it was displacement, loss of land, loss of temple worship, loss of every marker of identity they’d built their lives around. Jeremiah doesn’t tell them the exile is secretly good, or that it doesn’t really matter, or that they should feel grateful for it. He tells them, plainly, that God is still authoring good purposes even here, in the middle of what looks like the worst chapter of their national story. That’s a far more durable hope than the sentimental version of this verse offers — not that everything happens for a nice reason, but that the Author has not left, even now.
Applied to dating and engaged relationships, this matters more than the sentimental version suggests. Many couples arrive at their relationship carrying earlier chapters that felt like exile: a painful breakup that took years to recover from, a long season of unanswered waiting while friends got married around them, family patterns of divorce or dysfunction they never chose but still carry. Letting God write your love story doesn’t mean pretending those hard chapters didn’t happen, or weren’t real losses worth grieving. It means trusting that the Author is still at work even in the seasons that felt like nothing was happening — the years of waiting, the relationship that ended, the family you wish had modeled something healthier.
There’s a real temptation, especially once a relationship finally feels good, to try to write your own story out of fear rather than trust — rushing toward engagement to avoid the discomfort of an unresolved plot, forcing timeline decisions because anxiety is louder than patience, editing your story so it looks impressive to others rather than letting it be honestly written. None of that is surrender. Surrender looks like bringing the actual decisions — when to get engaged, how quickly to move toward marriage, whether this relationship is genuinely the one — to God in prayer, willing to let him write chapters you wouldn’t have chosen for yourself, trusting his authorship even when the current page is unclear and you can’t yet see where it’s headed.
This also reshapes how you handle the parts of each other’s stories that are still tender. If you truly believe God has been authoring good purposes through your partner’s hardest chapters — not just your own — you’ll treat their past with more patience than judgment. A partner who took longer to trust again after a broken engagement isn’t behind schedule; they’re living out a story God is still writing, on a timeline you don’t get to dictate. A partner whose family never modeled healthy marriage isn’t destined to repeat it; they’re a chapter God is actively redeeming, sometimes slowly, sometimes in ways neither of you will fully see until years from now. Letting God write the story includes letting him write your partner’s story too, at his pace, not yours.
None of this means passivity. Letting God write the story doesn’t mean sitting back and waiting for a plot to simply happen to you. It means bringing your real decisions to him honestly, acting in faith on the clarity you do have, and trusting him with the parts you can’t yet see. The couple who prays over their next step and then actually takes it is cooperating with the Author, not overriding him, trusting that even an imperfect step taken in faith is one he can still work through for good.
Back in that bookstore, the couple has an honest conversation that same night about the chapters they each brought into the relationship that didn’t look like what they’d planned — a broken engagement neither of them expected to survive, years of loneliness that felt endless at the time, a family that never modeled a healthy marriage for either of them to imitate. Instead of trying to outrun those chapters, they choose together to actively hand the pen to God for the chapters still ahead, praying specifically that he would write their engagement and their marriage rather than either of them forcing the plot out of fear or impatience.
Your story so far may not read the way you expected it to. It may have chapters you’d have written differently if you’d had the choice. That doesn’t mean it isn’t being written by someone who knows exactly where it’s headed — and who has never once lost the thread of the story he’s telling through your life.
Reflect
- What chapter in your story before this relationship still feels unfinished or painful, and have you actually let God near it, or are you just trying to move past it?
- Where might you be trying to force the plot of this relationship out of fear or impatience rather than trusting God's timing?
- If you truly believed God was authoring good purposes through this relationship, what would you do differently this week?
A Prayer for Today
Lord, thank you for being the author of my story, even the chapters I wouldn't have chosen. Forgive me for trying to grab the pen out of fear or impatience instead of trusting you with the plot. Help me bring the parts of my past that still ache into your presence instead of just trying to move past them quickly. As I look toward this relationship's next chapters, give me the patience to let you write the timeline instead of forcing it, and the faith to believe you're working good even in the pages that don't make sense yet. In Jesus's name, amen.
Your Action Step
This week, write down one chapter of your story before this relationship that still feels unresolved, and pray it into God's hands together with your partner.
by Rev Dunamis Okunowo | Sep 4, 2026 | Engaged & Dating
Reading Time: 5 minutesThe bookshelf instructions are spread across the living room floor in two separate piles, because somehow you each grabbed a different page and started building from opposite ends without checking. By the time you compare notes, one side has the shelves spaced for paperbacks and the other side is built for hardcovers — technically both “correct,” entirely incompatible. You have to take half of it apart and start over. Your fiancé laughs and says it’s basically a parable. You’re not sure yet if you’re laughing or a little unsettled by how easily that happened without either of you noticing.
Amos was a shepherd-turned-prophet sent to confront Israel with uncomfortable truth, and he opens his message with a series of rhetorical questions designed to make an obvious point unmistakably clear before he says anything harder.
“Do two walk together, unless they have agreed?” (Amos 3:3)
The question is rhetorical, and the answer is obviously no. You can’t walk in step with someone heading a different direction, at a different pace, toward a different destination, without one of you eventually having to stop, turn around, or drag the other along against their will. Amos uses this to describe his own relationship with God — he speaks because God has spoken to him first, they’re “agreed” — but the principle translates directly to any partnership, including a marriage.
What does “being agreed” actually require for a couple? Not identical personalities, hobbies, or even every opinion — that would be a shallow and honestly impossible standard. It means alignment on the load-bearing values: what you believe about God and how central he is to daily life, how you’ll handle money, whether and how you’ll raise children in faith, how you’ll treat extended family and set boundaries with them, what non-negotiables exist around honesty and fidelity. It’s worth clearly distinguishing preference differences, which are fine and even healthy — one of you loves mornings, the other loves late nights; one is a saver by temperament, the other spends more freely on experiences — from values differences, which will eventually force a stop, a turn, or an argument every single time they surface, for the rest of the marriage, unless they’re addressed honestly before the wedding.
It’s worth pointing out, too, that Amos’s own life illustrates why agreement matters so much before you’re already walking. God didn’t call Amos into ministry and leave him to figure out the message on his own — the text makes clear that Amos speaks because he has already heard, already been given the direction, already agreed with what God was sending him to say. He wasn’t improvising alignment mid-journey. The agreement came first, and the walking together followed from it. Couples often reverse that order without meaning to — they start walking together as a couple long before they’ve actually done the work of checking whether they agree on where the walk is headed, assuming the agreement will simply sort itself out along the way. Sometimes it does. Often it doesn’t, and the disagreement only becomes visible once you’re deep enough into the relationship that turning back feels far more costly than it would have earlier.
Here’s the common mistake worth naming gently: many couples assume that shared feelings now guarantee shared direction later. It feels good enough not to ask the harder questions, so the questions simply never get asked. Then, a year or two into marriage, a couple discovers a core values gap — about how much to give away financially, or how involved in-laws should be, or what discipline should look like with kids — not because either person was hiding something, but because it genuinely never came up while everything still felt easy. Amos’s question invites you to check the instructions together, out loud, before you’re several chapters into building a life you can’t easily take apart and redo.
This is also where wise outside input becomes valuable, not just conversation between the two of you. Two people who love each other can still talk past a real disagreement without realizing it, each hearing what they want to hear rather than what was actually said. A pastor, a premarital counselor, or an older couple who has weathered real value differences in their own marriage can often surface a misalignment that you two, too close to the relationship, keep missing. Don’t treat outside counsel as a formality to get through before the wedding is approved. Treat it as a second and third set of eyes checking whether you’re actually agreed, not just assuming you are because the relationship otherwise feels right.
Take the bookshelf couple seriously as a template. Prompted by that mismatched-instructions moment, they sit down that same week with a simple list of ten value questions: How will we handle disagreements with in-laws? What does giving and generosity look like for us? How many kids do we want, and how will we discipline them? How will we make big financial decisions — together, or does one of us take the lead? They discover they agree on eight without much discussion at all, and need real, sometimes uncomfortable conversation on two — one about how much financial support to offer aging parents someday, and one about how strictly to structure discipline with future kids. That’s not a bad outcome. That’s the good news of doing this work early — better to find the gaps now, with time and goodwill to actually reach agreement, than to discover them after the vows are spoken and the stakes are permanent.
Agreement isn’t sameness. It’s two people who’ve actually done the work of checking the instructions together before they start building — who’ve had the conversations that felt a little risky, and came out the other side actually walking the same direction, on purpose, together. That’s a far sturdier foundation for a lifelong walk than simply hoping the pieces will fit once the building has already begun, and it’s a foundation you can only lay by actually having the conversation rather than assuming your way past it.
Reflect
- Which of your core values — faith, finances, family, conflict — have you actually discussed out loud with your partner, and which have you simply assumed you agree on?
- Can you name one value gap between you that you've been avoiding because raising it feels riskier than ignoring it?
- If you look honestly at how you make decisions right now, are you walking in step, or is one of you quietly leading while the other follows without full agreement?
A Prayer for Today
Father, show us honestly where we've assumed agreement instead of actually building it. I don't want to discover a values gap after the vows are already spoken. Give us courage to ask the hard questions now — about faith, money, family, and children — even when the answers might be uncomfortable. Where we disagree, give us humility to listen and wisdom to find real agreement, not just polite avoidance. Help us walk in step with each other because we've actually chosen the same direction, not because we've avoided checking. In Jesus's name, amen.
Your Action Step
This week, sit down together with a list of five core values (faith, finances, family planning, conflict, roles) and name out loud where you actually agree and where you don't.
by Rev Dunamis Okunowo | Sep 3, 2026 | Engaged & Dating
Reading Time: 5 minutesYou’re sitting in the church parking lot afterward, engine running, neither of you quite ready to pull out yet. This is the fourth church you’ve visited together in two months — his has the hymns and the pastor who baptized him as a baby; hers has the modern worship set and a young couples’ ministry that already feels like community. Both are good. Neither of you wants to simply “win” this one by attrition. “We can’t keep visiting churches forever,” he finally says. “At some point this has to be ours, not yours and mine.”
Hebrews was written to Christians tempted to drift away from gathered community — under pressure, discouraged, some already skipping meeting together. The writer doesn’t just recommend church attendance as a nice habit; he frames it as essential to spiritual survival, especially as hard times approach.
“Let’s consider how to provoke one another to love and good works, not forsaking our own assembling together, as is the custom of some, but exhorting one another, and so much the more, as you see the Day approaching.” (Hebrews 10:24-25)
Notice the “one another” language woven through this passage. Church, in the New Testament’s vision, isn’t a solo spiritual consumer activity where you show up, receive something, and leave unchanged by the people around you. It’s a body that provokes, exhorts, and encourages its members toward love and good works. Applied directly to an engaged couple, this means choosing a church home together before the wedding isn’t a logistical afterthought squeezed in between venue tours and cake tastings — it’s choosing the community that will disciple your marriage, hold you accountable, and walk with you through both celebration and crisis long after the wedding day photos are put away.
Here’s the risk worth naming honestly: a couple who never settles into one shared church often ends up, functionally, without either the community or the accountability this passage describes. Each partner stays tethered to their own separate spiritual “home,” attending on alternating Sundays or drifting between the two, never actually becoming one body together the way they’re becoming one household in every other area of life. You can be perfectly cordial about it and still, five years into marriage, realize you never actually built the shared community this passage assumes every believer needs.
The tension is real, though, and worth taking seriously rather than steamrolling. Blending church backgrounds means navigating denominational differences, worship style preferences, and loyalty to a childhood church or a pastor who has mattered to you personally for years. The way through isn’t for one person to simply defer to the other’s preference indefinitely, nor for the search to become another arena for someone to “win.” Evaluate together, out loud, by a different standard than comfort: where will we actually be built up? Where will we know and be known, as a couple, within a reasonable amount of time? Where will we be exhorted toward love and good works rather than just entertained for an hour a week?
It’s worth naming a subtler danger here too: sometimes the disagreement isn’t really about which church is objectively better, but about deeper loyalties neither person has voiced. Staying at a childhood church can be less about theology and more about not wanting to disappoint parents who have attended there for decades. Preferring a new church can be less about worship style and more about wanting a fresh identity separate from the family you grew up in. Naming those underlying loyalties honestly with each other, rather than arguing only about surface preferences, usually gets a couple unstuck far faster than another round of visiting churches. Ask directly: is there a reason beyond preference that one of us is attached to a particular option, and would it help to say that out loud?
Pay attention, too, to the urgency in “as you see the Day approaching.” The writer of Hebrews isn’t casual about this instruction — gathered community becomes more essential, not less, as difficulty increases. For a couple heading into marriage, which carries its own set of trials ahead, settling into committed community before the wedding rather than after means you enter marriage already surrounded, rather than scrambling to build support for the first time after a crisis hits.
Consider, too, what settling into a church home together does for your engagement itself, not just your future marriage. Premarital counseling is far more effective when it comes from people who will still know you next year, not a one-time seminar you never see again. A young marrieds’ ministry can surround you with couples five or ten years ahead of you, willing to answer honest questions about conflict, intimacy, or in-laws that you might feel awkward asking your own parents. And practically, a pastor who has watched you serve and grow together for months before the wedding will know you far better standing at the altar than one who met you during a single planning meeting. The church you choose now shapes not only your wedding day, but the entire season leading up to it.
Back in that parking lot, the couple decides on a plan instead of continuing to drift between two churches indefinitely: three more visits together, with an actual list of questions — is there a couples’ or young marrieds’ ministry, will we be known by name within a year, does the preaching challenge us both, not just comfort us — and a commitment to choose one within two months and actually get involved, not merely attend. Getting involved matters as much as the choosing: joining a small group, signing up to serve on a team, introducing themselves to the couples’ ministry leader by name rather than staying anonymous in the back row. A church home isn’t established by attendance alone; it’s established by being known, which only happens through consistent, visible participation over time.
The church you choose together isn’t just where you’ll get married. It’s who will help carry you when marriage gets hard. Choose it with the same intentionality you’re choosing each other.
Reflect
- Right now, are you and your partner actually building toward one shared church community, or are you each still functionally rooted in separate ones?
- What would it cost you personally to leave a church you love for the sake of building a shared spiritual home with your partner — and are you willing to have that conversation honestly?
- If you got married this year, is there a church community right now that would notice if you disappeared for a month?
A Prayer for Today
God, thank you for the gift of your church, and for the community we still need to fully find together. Forgive us for letting comfort or convenience keep us rooted in separate spiritual homes instead of building one shared community before we're married. Give us wisdom as we choose a church together — not based on which one is easier, but on where we'll actually be known, exhorted, and built up as a couple. Prepare the community that will walk with us through both the joyful and hard seasons ahead. Help us commit, not just visit. In Jesus's name, amen.
Your Action Step
This week, agree together on two or three churches to visit as a couple over the next month, with a plan to commit to one before the wedding.
by Rev Dunamis Okunowo | Sep 2, 2026 | Engaged & Dating
Reading Time: 5 minutesEight months in, you still don’t have a name for what this is. You’ve met his roommates. You’ve spent four holidays with her family. You text good morning and good night every day without fail. But when a friend asked at brunch what you two actually are, you both gave a different answer, and neither of you laughed it off as easily as you wanted to. It’s a little like hiking a trail with no markers — you’ve covered real ground together, but neither of you actually chose the direction; you just kept walking because stopping felt harder than continuing.
Proverbs 16 sits among Solomon’s collected wisdom sayings about the tension between human planning and divine sovereignty — a recurring theme throughout this chapter especially. Verse 9 captures it in a single line meant to be memorized and lived, not just admired from a distance.
“A man’s heart plans his course, but Yahweh directs his steps.” (Proverbs 16:9)
Notice what this verse doesn’t say. It doesn’t condemn planning; it states planning as a simple fact of wise living — “a man’s heart plans his course” is presented as normal and expected, not as prideful overreach. What the verse corrects is the illusion that planning equals control. You can plan the course. God directs the actual steps. Applied to dating, this is not a verse against intentionality. If anything, it assumes intentionality as the starting point — you’re meant to plan your course — while trusting God with how the details actually unfold.
That distinction matters, because “dating on purpose” often gets confused with either rigid over-planning on one end, or passive drifting dressed up as spirituality on the other. Drifting looks like letting a relationship coast on convenience and inertia without either person actually choosing it — staying together because breaking up feels harder than continuing, avoiding the conversation about direction because ambiguity feels safer than a real answer. Some couples call this “letting God lead” or “not rushing things,” but it often isn’t trust in God’s sovereignty at all. It’s frequently just avoidance of a hard conversation, wearing spiritual language as a disguise. God directing your steps assumes you’re walking somewhere with intention, not standing still hoping direction will find you on its own.
It helps to notice how the rest of Proverbs treats planning as a mark of maturity, not its opposite. The book repeatedly contrasts the sluggard, who drifts through life reacting to whatever’s in front of him, with the wise person, who thinks ahead, weighs consequences, and commits to a direction. Nowhere does Scripture praise aimlessness as a form of spiritual surrender. Faith, in the biblical imagination, looks like Nehemiah surveying the broken walls before he ever picked up a trowel, or Paul planning missionary routes he then submitted to the Spirit’s redirection. The pattern is always the same: plan with real intention, then hold that plan open-handed enough for God to redirect it. A relationship that never gets planned in the first place isn’t more open to God’s leading — it’s simply directionless, with no plan for him to redirect.
Dating on purpose looks specific and concrete: naming what you’re actually doing together — are we dating with marriage as the aim, or is this genuinely undefined and both of us are at peace with that? Having regular, honest check-ins about where the relationship is headed instead of assuming you both already know. Being willing to end a relationship that has clarified it isn’t leading toward marriage, rather than letting it drift on for years out of comfort or fear of starting over. This isn’t about rushing anyone into a decision — it’s about respecting the other person’s time and heart enough to be honest about direction, because vague relationships often quietly cost someone years they could have spent building a life with someone actually walking the same course.
It’s worth being honest about why ambiguity feels safer than clarity for so many couples. Naming a direction out loud means risking a real answer — maybe your partner isn’t actually planning toward marriage the way you assumed, or maybe you’ll discover you’ve been more hesitant than you realized once you have to put it into words. Staying vague protects both people from that risk, at least temporarily. But Proverbs doesn’t offer risk-avoidance as wisdom. It offers planning, submitted to God, as wisdom. The couple who never asks the direction question isn’t being more faithful; they’re simply postponing a conversation that will eventually happen anyway, usually at a point where more time and more of each other’s hearts are already invested.
Take that eight-month couple. Prompted by the brunch question neither of them could answer well, they finally sit down that week and have the conversation they’d been circling for months — naming their intentions, their expectations around exclusivity, what moving toward marriage would actually mean and on what kind of timeline. It’s not a comfortable conversation. There’s real relief in some of what gets said, and honestly, there might be grief too, if it turns out they want different things. But either outcome is better than another eight months of walking an unmarked trail, letting momentum decide something neither of them ever chose on purpose.
It’s worth adding that dating on purpose doesn’t require having every answer figured out on the first serious conversation. Direction can be genuine even when the exact timeline isn’t settled yet. What matters is that both people are actually choosing, together and out loud, rather than one person quietly hoping the relationship becomes something neither of them has agreed to pursue. A couple can honestly say we’re moving toward marriage and still need real conversations later about when. What they can’t do, if they want to date with integrity, is let month after month pass without ever naming the direction at all.
Purposeful dating isn’t a lack of trust in God — it’s cooperating with the way he actually works throughout Scripture: plan your course wisely, walk it with intention, and trust him with the steps you can’t control. Don’t mistake drifting for patience. Plan your course this week, and let God direct where it actually leads.
Reflect
- Could you clearly state, in one sentence, what direction your relationship is currently headed and why — or has it mostly been drifting on convenience?
- Is there a conversation about intention or timeline you've been avoiding because clarity feels riskier than ambiguity?
- Where in this relationship have you confused waiting on God with simply avoiding a decision you're afraid to make?
A Prayer for Today
Lord, I confess I've let drifting feel like patience and avoidance feel like trust. I don't want to waste either of our years in a relationship neither of us has actually chosen on purpose. Give me courage to have the honest conversation about direction and timeline instead of hiding behind vague hope. Help me plan my course wisely, the way Proverbs describes, while still trusting you to direct the actual steps. Whatever the answer turns out to be, give me the strength to face it honestly rather than let ambiguity decide for me. In Jesus's name, amen.
Your Action Step
This week, have one direct conversation with your partner naming where you believe the relationship is headed and by when, instead of letting time decide for you.
by Rev Dunamis Okunowo | Sep 1, 2026 | Engaged & Dating
Reading Time: 5 minutesThe waiting room chairs are the stiff plastic kind, and you’ve been sitting in them for two hours since your fiancé’s mother was rushed in. He’s texted his sister three times and refilled his coffee twice, and neither of you has said much. Finally he reaches for your hand and says quietly, “Should we pray?” You realize, sitting there under the fluorescent lights, that in over a year of dating you’ve prayed for each other plenty — silently, separately, in the privacy of your own devotions — but you have almost never actually prayed together, out loud, in the same room. Tonight, of all nights, is the first time.
James wrote his letter to scattered, struggling believers dealing with real suffering, sickness, and sin in community — not abstract theology, but the practical question of how faith holds up under pressure. Near the end of the letter, he gets specific about what a healthy spiritual community actually does when someone is hurting.
“Confess your offenses to one another, and pray for one another, that you may be healed. The insistent prayer of a righteous person is powerfully effective.” (James 5:16)
Notice the two commands James pairs together: confess to one another, and pray for one another. He assumes both happen in relationship, not in isolation. For an engaged or dating couple, this text points to a spiritual practice that’s often quietly skipped: praying together, out loud, especially about hard or vulnerable things. Many Christian couples pray easily over meals — a quick “bless this food” — but rarely pray about the actual substance of their lives together: fear, conflict, family struggles, unmet longings. That’s a missed opportunity, because praying together does something private prayer alone doesn’t. It makes you spiritual witnesses to each other’s actual burdens, not just polite companions who happen to share a faith.
It’s also worth noticing that James places confession and prayer in the same breath, as though one naturally leads to the other. That pairing matters for a couple preparing for marriage, because the ability to pray together honestly is directly tied to the ability to be honest with each other in the first place. Couples who never practice confession — who default to smoothing over conflict rather than naming it, or who each privately carry disappointment without ever voicing it — usually find their shared prayer life stays shallow too, limited to safe, general requests because anything deeper would require admitting something uncomfortable out loud. Learning to pray together and learning to confess honestly to each other grow in tandem. You rarely get skilled at one without the other.
If you’ve avoided this, you’re not unusual. Praying out loud in front of someone else is genuinely vulnerable — there’s the awkwardness of not knowing what to say, the fear of sounding unspiritual compared to your partner, or simply never having been taught how. It’s worth naming plainly: it feels clumsy at first for almost everyone. Sincerity matters far more than eloquence here. James’s phrase “the insistent prayer of a righteous person is powerfully effective” is followed immediately by the example of Elijah — an ordinary human being who prayed fervently and saw real, tangible effect. Praying together isn’t a formality to check off. It’s a means God actually uses.
There’s also a cost to this practice that’s worth being honest about: praying together honestly will eventually surface things that need actual repentance between you — an unkind word, a broken promise, a flash of jealousy neither of you has named out loud. Praying honestly together requires being honest about failure first, which is its own quiet act of humility and trust-building long before you ever stand at the altar. A couple who can confess to each other and then pray together afterward has built something a couple who only ever apologizes and moves on has not.
If you’re not sure where to begin, it can help to borrow structure rather than waiting for inspiration to strike. Some couples find it easier to pray through a passage of Scripture together — reading a psalm out loud and then turning its words into a prayer for their own relationship — rather than starting from a blank page. Others keep a simple shared list, written down, of things they’re praying about together: a parent’s health, a job transition, a recurring temptation one of them is fighting. Having something concrete to return to takes the pressure off finding the exact right words and puts the focus back where it belongs — on actually bringing your real life to God together, however plainly you say it.
This matters as much for engaged couples planning a wedding as for any other season, maybe more. It’s easy to assume that because you’re actively involved in premarital classes, choosing readings for the ceremony, or even asking a pastor to officiate, your spiritual life together is automatically healthy. But none of that necessarily includes the two of you actually praying together outside of a public or ceremonial setting. A couple can plan an entirely Christian wedding day — hymns, Scripture readings, a pastor’s blessing — and still reach the altar having prayed together out loud, privately, only a handful of times. The wedding day isn’t where this habit gets built. It has to be built in the ordinary weeks leading up to it, in a living room or a car or, as this couple discovered, a waiting room neither of them chose to be in.
Start smaller than the hospital waiting room forced this couple to start. Try a two-minute nightly check-in prayer — not a performance, just naming one thing you’re grateful for and one thing you’re worried about, then praying about both, out loud, together. Or pick one real concern each week — a job interview, a hard conversation with a parent, a financial decision — and pray over it specifically instead of defaulting to generic blessings. That hospital-room couple, once they stumbled through their first out-loud prayer together, kept doing it afterward, even about small things, because they’d discovered something they hadn’t expected: praying together didn’t just ask God for help, it made them feel like they were actually facing life together instead of alongside each other.
The habit built now, however awkward it feels at first, becomes the backbone of a marriage that will face far harder rooms than a hospital waiting area. Don’t wait for a crisis to have your first out-loud prayer together. Start this week, on an ordinary night, with something small and real.
Reflect
- Have you and your partner ever prayed together out loud about something real, or has your prayer life stayed mostly private and parallel?
- What makes you hesitant to pray out loud in front of your partner — self-consciousness, fear of sounding unspiritual, or simply never being taught how?
- Is there something happening in your life right now that you haven't asked your partner to pray with you about, and why not?
A Prayer for Today
Father, forgive me for treating prayer with my partner as optional or awkward instead of essential. I want more than parallel faith — I want us to actually kneel together, confess honestly, and carry each other's burdens the way James describes. Teach me to pray out loud without pretense, to be vulnerable about what I actually need prayer for, and to take my partner's struggles as seriously as my own. Make our prayer life together a real source of healing, not just a formality before meals. Start that tonight, however clumsy it feels. In Jesus's name, amen.
Your Action Step
This week, pray together out loud at least three times about something specific and real — not just a generic blessing — even if it feels awkward at first.
