Prayer for Marriages

Dear Heavenly Father,

Thank You for being a good and merciful Father. Thank You for all that You are and for being love itself. Father, I come before You humbly—asking for forgiveness of my sins and thanking You for Your redemptive power.

Father, my heart is heavy. Today, I learned of another Christian marriage on the brink of dissolving. I hate how Satan attacks our families. It hurts to witness all the pain and brokenness that comes from divorce. Marriage is hard—but divorce is hard too. The splitting of lives, children, family, traditions, friendships, finances, faith communities, future grandkids—so much. It’s painful.

Though I’ve never been married and don’t know the hardship of such a relationship, I wish we could uphold the covenant. Isn’t marriage supposed to make us holy, not just happy? Isn’t it supposed to reflect Your gospel?

As a therapist, I often hear people say they want a divorce because “I’m just not happy” or “I lost myself.” And while I don’t take those words lightly, my heart breaks. I know that kind of unhappiness must be so heavy—so unbearable—that it feels like the only relief is to end everything. But Father God, I also consider the scriptures that tell us to take up our cross daily and die to self. I think about how suffering is part of the Christian life. Have we forgotten how to suffer, Lord?

I know You do not delight in our pain. But I also know that suffering is part of the journey. You often use it to mold us, to reveal Your glory, to draw us closer. You promise us joy and give supernatural strength through the Holy Spirit. So, Father, I ask—what is going wrong? Are we not depending on You in the process? Is our culture too averse to suffering? Have we built on shaky foundations? Are we hoping marriage will heal our trauma—when in truth, unresolved trauma can ruin marriage? Have You slowed down Christian marriages in my generation to protect us from the pain our character cannot yet carry?

I don’t know the answers. But I lay the questions at Your feet. Everything that rattles through my mind is NOTHING when surrendered to You.

Father, You’ve given believers authority on this earth, and the powerful gift of prayer. The same Holy Spirit who raised Jesus from the grave lives in me. So, I boldly rebuke Satan’s attacks on Christian marriages. I ask You to intervene and heal our families. Open our eyes to see the enemy’s schemes—against our homes, our lineages, and generations to come.

Remind us that divorce doesn’t always ease the pain. Teach us gratitude. Teach us humility. Teach us to bring every burden to You—for You see us, and You care. Let Your Spirit empower us with long-suffering, endurance, perseverance, joy, peace, love, and self-control. Help us love our partners more than we love ourselves, in every season.

Though I’m not yet married, I pray now for my future husband and our marriage. I pray that You put this kind of heart in both of us—a heart that says, divorce is not an option. While I do pray for a marriage full of joy and unity, more than anything, I pray for a marriage that reflects Your gospel: that relentless, unshakable love that never gives up—no matter how hard things get. A love that endures. That suffers, because it knows there's a greater purpose beyond self.

Lord, You know I have a trauma response—feeling disposable, wanting to run when I fear being replaced. I see how that lie, if left unhealed, could wreak havoc in my life and future marriage. I ask You to heal it, Lord. Search my heart, my spirit, my soul—and do the same for my husband. More than healing our wounds, I ask that we both learn to walk in full obedience to You in every season, and that we know—and respect—Your voice.

Make us Your ambassadors. Your warriors. Use us to restore and pour into the marriages around us. I pray that we both come under strong, wise discipleship—and that we, too, will know who we’re called to disciple. The harvest is plentiful, Lord, but the workers are few. Send the workers, Father God. Let us stand. Let us say, “Here I am, Lord—send me.” And let us have all confidence—not in ourselves, but in You, the Author and Finisher of our faith.

Father, I’m tired of seeing so many spiritual giants fall. I know it’s not easy. But I trust You. Not in our ability, but in You. I don’t understand—but I believe in You, in Your power, and in Your will. I come not in self-righteousness—but in faith.

Please hear my cry.
I love You.

Love,
Briana Renee