What Happens When a Marriage Ministry Leader's Marriage Falls Apart
The shame, the confusion, and the hope that comes after
I have a confession to make: I spent twenty years teaching other women how to have great marriages while my own was falling apart.
Every week, I'd stand before groups of women in our marriage ministry, sharing principles about submission and respect, teaching them how to honor their husbands' leadership, showing them how to create peaceful homes. Then I'd go back to my own house where I was walking on eggshells, constantly afraid of saying or doing something that might trigger an explosion.
The irony was crushing. And the shame was almost unbearable.
The Perfect Ministry Wife Facade
From the outside, I probably looked like I had it all figured out. I was actively serving in a large marriage ministry devoted to traditional teaching on submission and headship. I knew all the right things to say. I could quote the relevant verses. I genuinely believed that if I could just submit better, love better, serve better, my marriage would transform.
But behind closed doors, I was often pressured through emotional or physical intimidation to do my husband's will. As many of you know, when you live in a home like that, you and your children are constantly walking on eggshells, praying one of them doesn't crack and make him mad.
The cognitive dissonance was overwhelming. How could I be teaching God's design for marriage while living in something that felt so far from God's heart?
The Crushing Weight of Failure
The worst part wasn't just the dysfunction at home—it was the sense that I was somehow failing God and failing the other women I was supposed to be helping. Here I was, teaching biblical principles of marriage, and I couldn't make them work in my own life.
I threw myself deeper into the ministry, hoping that by pouring into other marriages, I could somehow fix my own. I studied harder, served more, submitted more completely. I was desperate to prove that the principles worked, even as my own experience suggested otherwise.
The questions haunted me: Was I not faithful enough? Not submissive enough? Was there something fundamentally wrong with me that I couldn't create the peaceful, joyful marriage I was teaching other women to build?
When "Doing Everything Right" Goes Wrong
I followed all the rules. I respected my husband's leadership. I bit my tongue when I disagreed. I focused on changing myself instead of trying to change him. I prayed for him faithfully. I served him willingly. I submitted to his decisions even when they seemed unwise.
And still, the marriage deteriorated.
The hardest part was that everyone around me—including myself—kept insisting that if I just tried harder, prayed more, submitted better, things would turn around. The message was clear: if the marriage wasn't working, it must be my fault.
After twenty years of this cycle, my marriage ended anyway.
The Aftermath: Shame and Shattered Theology
When my marriage ended, I felt like I'd failed at everything. Not just as a wife, but as a Christian, as a ministry leader, as a woman. How could I have spent two decades teaching something that didn't work in my own life?
The shame was suffocating. I'd built my identity around being a good Christian wife who understood God's design for marriage. Now what was I?
But in that dark place, God began to do something beautiful. He started showing me that maybe—just maybe—the problem wasn't with my faith or my effort. Maybe the problem was with the entire system I'd been trying so hard to make work.
Meeting Gregory: A Different Way
When God brought Gregory into my life, everything changed. Gregory had been single and celibate for 23 years after his first marriage ended. During that time, he says, "God was at work transforming me." Those years of solitude and spiritual growth prepared him to love in a way that few men I've ever met can love.
"But here's what was revolutionary about Gregory: he didn't expect me to submit to his authority. Instead, he approached our relationship with the heart of Jesus, who came 'not to be served, but to serve' (Matthew 20:28, NASB)."
Discovering Mutual Submission
"As Gregory and I built our relationship, we discovered something beautiful: mutual submission. Not the one-way submission I'd been taught and tried to practice, but the revolutionary concept Paul actually described in Ephesians 5:21—'Submit to one another out of reverence for Christ' (Eph. 5:21, NIV)."
In our marriage, decisions aren't about who has the "final say." They're about seeking wisdom together through prayer, conversation, and paying attention to each other's gifts and insights. Sometimes I have stronger insights; other times, Gregory sees things I miss.
This approach doesn't create chaos—it creates strength. Our mutual decision-making produces choices that we both fully own and support. We never fall into blaming and shaming. We're rooted in unified wisdom rather than unilateral authority.
The Healing Power of True Partnership
What amazes me most about my marriage to Gregory is how it's healed wounds I didn't even know I had. For twenty years, I believed that my voice didn't matter as much as a man's voice. I believed that my wisdom was somehow inferior. I believed that my job was to follow, not to lead.
Gregory shows me every day that none of that is true. He actively seeks my input on decisions. He celebrates my successes in business. He supports my writing and teaching ministry, even when it challenges traditional male authority. He's always lifting me up, encouraging me to be and do all that God has put in my heart.
What I Wish I Could Tell My Younger Self
If I could go back and talk to that young woman desperately trying to make a broken system work, here's what I'd say:
It's not your fault. If you're giving everything you have to make a marriage work and it's still dysfunction, the problem isn't your level of submission or faith. Some systems are broken, and no amount of individual effort can fix them.
God's heart is bigger than your theology. If your understanding of Scripture is producing fear, shame, and oppression rather than love, joy, and freedom, it might be time to examine whether you're reading Scripture correctly.
You were created for partnership, not servitude. God didn't make you to be small so someone else could feel big. You were made to be a co-heir, a co-laborer, a full partner in the Kingdom.
Your voice matters. Your wisdom, your insights, your perspective—they all matter. God didn't give you a brain to keep quiet or gifts to keep hidden.
Healing is possible. Even if you've spent years in dysfunction, even if you've lost hope, God can restore what was broken and give you something more beautiful than you ever imagined.
The Ministry Continues, Transformed
Today, I'm still in ministry—but it looks completely different. Instead of teaching women to submit to broken systems, I'm teaching both men and women to embrace the radical equality of the Kingdom. Instead of perpetuating hierarchies that wound, I'm sharing a vision of mutual submission that heals.
And you know what? The fruit is completely different. Instead of women leaving my sessions feeling guilty and trying harder, they leave feeling empowered and loved. Instead of marriages built on duty and fear, I see partnerships built on mutual honor and joy.
A Message of Hope
If you're reading this and recognizing your own story—if you've been trying to make traditional teaching work and wondering why it's so hard—please know that you're not alone. You're not failing. You're not less spiritual or less faithful.
You might just be discovering, as I did, that God's design for relationships is more beautiful, more liberating, and more Christ-like than what you've been taught.
The failure of my first marriage wasn't the end of my story—it was the beginning of discovering God's true heart for relationships. Sometimes what looks like failure is actually God clearing the way for something infinitely better.
There is hope. There is healing. And there is a way forward that honors both your faith and your dignity.
You don't have to choose between following Jesus and being fully human. In God's Kingdom, you get to be both.
Blessings,
Susan 😊