It feels like we don’t flinch anymore when we hear someone got divorced. It’s almost expected, like the natural next step after “it didn’t work out.” And while, yes, life is life and every story is different, can we at least be honest? Divorce has become… casual. Too casual.
This isn’t about shame. At all. Many people reading this may come from homes marked by divorce, or have been through it themselves. This isn’t a call-out. It’s a call-in. A conversation. Because if we’re going to talk about love, purpose, and kingdom living, we have to talk about how marriage fits into that and why so many of them are falling apart.
The real problem isn’t divorce, it’s everything we ignore on the way there. The problem starts way earlier. It’s in skipping red flags because we’re tired of being single. It’s in getting caught up in vibes, aesthetics, or pressure instead of purpose and character. It’s in thinking “I’ll fix him later” or “I’ll change once we’re married.” It’s in choosing someone we can post instead of someone we can pray with.
We talk so much about the wedding—what we’ll wear, what the hashtag will be, who’ll make the guest list—but not enough about the weight of what comes after the DJ packs up and the lace is folded away. Do you even like the person you’re marrying? Do they know God? Do they submit to God? Do you feel safe with their leadership, with their wounds, with their silence?
Again, this isn’t to say divorce is never justified. Abuse, infidelity, manipulation—these are real, heavy things. But outside of those, what we’re seeing more and more is people realizing, after marriage, what should have been addressed before it.
So what’s the answer? Not “just stay and endure.” The solution is deeper preparation. More honesty. Real conversations. Therapy. Premarital counseling that isn’t just ticking boxes. Asking hard questions like: “Can I grow with this person?” “Do we resolve conflict in a healthy way?” “Do I feel peace when I pray about them, or pressure?”
And if you’re already in the marriage and quietly wondering if it’s too late, breathe. This is for you, too. Sometimes the healing starts inside the covenant. Maybe what you need right now isn’t an exit, but a reset. A return to honesty. To counsel. To prayer. To unlearn what wasn’t healthy and relearn each other in a new light. It takes two, yes but if even one person starts leaning into the work, asking hard questions, and choosing growth, the atmosphere begins to shift. Don’t underestimate the power of humility, of asking for help, or of letting God reframe what you thought was finished.
We need to normalize waiting. Slowing down. Calling off engagements when the Holy Spirit says “no,” even if the wedding is six weeks away. We need to talk more about becoming the right person before obsessing over finding one. Because sometimes, it’s not that God hasn’t sent someone, it’s that we wouldn’t know how to steward the relationship if He did. Healing your wounds, breaking unhealthy patterns, learning how to communicate, how to apologize, how to be led, how to listen—these are the quiet, unglamorous things that prepare you for the loud beauty of love that lasts. It’s not just about praying for a good marriage. It’s about becoming someone who can carry one.
Because here’s the thing: marriage is beautiful. It’s holy. It’s worth desiring. But it’s also weighty. And we can’t keep pretending that “just winging it” is working. It’s not.
Let’s do it differently.
