Zanele's Faith Journeys

When Marriage Found Me Later in Life

I didn’t really know how much marriage would ask of me.
I thought I understood commitment. I thought I understood sacrifice.
I even went through marriage counseling with my pastor, and he did a great job — I thought I understood the assignment.
But there are some things you can only truly learn by living them.

This isn’t the fairytale version of marriage — this is the real, messy, sacred story God is still writing in me.

Marriage wasn’t something I spent my life chasing.
It found me later in life at 43, when I wasn’t looking for it — when I thought I knew who I was and what I wanted.
And even then, it still had lessons to teach me.

Marriage has been one of God’s greatest tools for refining me.
It has shown me the depth of His love — and the depths of my selfishness.
It’s taught me patience, forgiveness, and sacrifice in ways I never imagined.

The Honest Truth I Hesitated to Say

And if I’m being completely honest… knowing everything I know now, and with everything God has shown me through marriage —
I would not choose it again.

Let me be clear: this isn’t about bashing marriage or regretting every moment.
I’m simply sharing my own honest experience — the kind of honesty that doesn’t often get a microphone in faith spaces.

I love my husband.
I see the beauty God has built in our marriage.
I’m not looking to dishonor the sacredness of it.
And at the very same time, I can admit: if I could go back, knowing everything I know now, I would have made a different choice.

The Space We Need in Faith Communities

I think we need more space for conversations like this in faith communities, not less.
Spaces where two things can be true at once:
Where gratitude and grief can sit side by side.
Where sacredness doesn’t erase reality.
Where regret doesn’t turn into immaturity or lack of faith.

I’ve grown to appreciate marriage and all that God has revealed to me about myself and my husband through it.
Without being married, I wouldn’t have been able to see it and appreciate it.

When You See God Through Your Spouse

I recognize and see God’s great love through the eyes of my husband, through his heart.
It’s an absolute honor to see and feel God’s love in that way. It’s sacred.

But marriage has also revealed the less desirable aspects of myself, including my selfishness and mean-spiritedness, as well as my patience, and how God’s love is reflected through me.

Because I know without a doubt, it will be only through God’s strength that I’m able to show up as a good wife.
It’s definitely not because of me.

From Parental Love to Marital Revelation

In my last  blog, I shared how God revealed His love to me through my parents.
Now, in this season, He continues to reveal Himself through my marriage.

Seeing God’s heart through the people closest to me has been one of His greatest gifts — even when the lessons have come wrapped in struggle.

Faith, Frustration, and the Tension In Between

I’ve been moved to talk about my marriage experience —
Not because I want out,
Not because I dislike my husband,
And not because I’ve lost my faith.

I’m speaking because faith and frustration can live in the same house.
Love and regret can live side by side, and faith and frustration can 
coexist without contradiction.

It seems church culture has often created this false binary:
✅ “If you’re happily married, you’re spiritually mature.”
❌ “If you’re struggling, doubting, or not ‘fulfilled,’ you’re spiritually immature or disobedient.”

I think that mindset is toxic because it can leave people feeling unseen, unheard, and judged — all while they’re already carrying heavy things in silence.

Where I’m Standing Now

I am standing in the tension.
And guess what?
God is right here in the tension with me, too. He’s always with me.

I believe you can be a good wife,
A faithful believer,
And a deeply honest human being —
All at the same time.

Even when it’s messy.
Even when it’s complicated.
Even when it doesn’t fit the perfect version of marriage.

The Woman I Once Was

I wasn’t a woman desperately longing for marriage.
I was building a life I loved, on my own terms.
I was content in my singleness, and as a single mother, I looked forward to focusing solely on myself for a change while my son was away at college.

And if I’m honest, I’ve had to grieve her.
Getting married didn’t erase that woman, but it did shift her path. It was a version of me that I genuinely loved, and again, I was looking forward to what was next.

Sometimes, I still grieve her — the freedom she had, the dreams that were hers alone to chase.

Loving my husband and missing that version of me are not enemies.
Both can be true.
Both are true.

And that’s part of the sacred, brutal beauty, too:
Learning to hold all the parts of your story with open hands and an open heart.

The Doubts I Didn’t Want to Name

But here’s an even deeper truth:
I had doubts even before I ever said “I do.”

Not just cold feet or butterflies — but real, serious doubts.
And like many people before me, I thought marriage could fix what felt broken.
I thought love could smooth over the rough edges.
I thought commitment would magically erase the things that scared me.

I was wrong.

Marriage didn’t silence those doubts — it amplified them.
It didn’t erase the hard truths I was afraid to face — it forced me to live with them every single day.

And if I could go back to that girl standing in her wedding dress, smiling through her anxiety,
I would tell her:
Trust the voice inside you.
Listen to the wisdom you’re trying to pray away.

What I Thought Would Change

If I’m being candid, when I got married, I was naive.
I thought that some of the things I didn’t like about my husband would eventually change once we settled into married life.
I thought love, prayer, commitment, and time would smooth out the rough edges.

I truly believed that — even at 43 — and it wasn’t because I was foolish or desperate.
It was because I wanted to believe in the beauty of growth and change.

But the truth is: marriage doesn’t fix things.
It magnifies them.

And I had to face the hard reality that some things about my husband weren’t going to change — because they’re part of who he is.
Just like there are things about me that won’t change either.

That realization hurt.
It wasn’t just disappointment — it was grief.

I grieved the woman I was before marriage — her freedom, her voice.
And I also grieved the fairytale I brought with me — the one I didn’t realize I believed in until it started to crumble.

The Truth I Still Carry

Even after everything I’ve seen and learned, let me tell you the truth:
I could still walk away.
At any time.
And I know that’s not the “Christian woman” thing to say — but it’s honest.

This isn’t about bashing marriage or regretting every moment.
It’s about telling the kind of truth that doesn’t always get a microphone in faith spaces.
Because sometimes, the truth is ugly.

Yes, the vows say “until death do us part,”
But right now?
Marriage isn’t a one-time vow — it’s a thousand gritty decisions, day after day.
Some days, it feels easy.
Other days, it feels like a surrender I don’t want to make.

Here’s what no one tells you:
You can grieve parts of your marriage and still choose to stay.
You can wish things were different and still honor your vows.
You can believe you might’ve been happier alone —
And still stay, out of love, faith, and personal conviction.

For me, marriage isn’t just about happiness.
It’s about becoming who God is shaping me to be through it.
It’s about the quiet strength it takes to hold two imperfect lives together
in a world that tells you to walk away when it gets hard.

It’s about choosing faithfulness, even when your feelings scream otherwise.
It takes courage to stay.
It takes surrender to stay.
And most of all, it takes God.

There are days I tell the Lord it feels impossible.
So I surrender it — again.
Because staying isn’t about being strong on my own.
It’s about trusting His strength in my weakness.

Faith Over Feelings

I’m being obedient to God because I know you can’t trust your feelings.
Jeremiah 17:9 (AMP) reminds me:
“The heart is deceitful above all things, and it is extremely sick; who can understand it fully and know its secret motives?”

My feelings may change, but God’s Word remains the same.
Our emotions, our hearts — they can lead us straight into trouble if we’re not anchored to God’s truth.

That’s why obedience has to outweigh feelings.
I’m a woman who has wrestled long and hard with her faith, her feelings, and her future — and made a choice.
And I’m still making that choice every day.

Faithfulness means taking it one day at a time and trusting Jesus through it all.

The Real Struggles

I’m gonna keep it 100 here…
I won’t pretend that I’ve just quietly endured all of this with a smile, either.

I’ve told my husband — more than once — that I wanted out.
The first time was on our very first wedding anniversary.

Another time was just late last year.

And those weren’t empty threats.

They were honest, gut-wrenching admissions from a woman wrestling with disappointment, unmet expectations, and grief over what marriage actually turned out to be.

This July marks 12 years of marriage for us.
Twelve years filled with moments of happiness, frustration, confusion, forgiveness, and grace.
Twelve years of learning that marriage is a lifelong classroom for learning how to love like Jesus.

Why We Need Real Talk About Marriage: Holding Space for Hard but Holy Truths 

I know this kind of honesty can make people uncomfortable, especially in Christian circles where the pressure to “have it all together” is real.

But if I’ve learned anything, it’s this:

We can help each other by sharing what’s true — even when it’s hard.

I know God isn’t intimidated by my doubts. He isn’t shocked by my weariness.

He walks with me through every moment — the sacred ones, the brutal ones, and everything in between.

So here I am — choosing to stay, choosing to love, and choosing to grow.
Not because it’s easy. Not because it always feels good.
But because I believe God is still working in the middle of the mess — shaping, stretching, and strengthening me in ways I never expected.

This isn’t the polished version of faith.
This is the tested kind. The kind that holds both love and lament.
The kind that says, “God, I trust You — even here.”

Now I want to hear from you:
Have you ever felt torn between honoring your commitment and grieving what you thought life would be?

Leave a comment below or send me a message.
Let’s keep holding space for the kind of honest, faith-filled conversations that don’t tie everything up with a neat bow — but still believe God is in it all.

Because no matter what season you’re in…
Life is a faith journey.