Twenty years. It sounds like a marathon, and in many ways, it has been. My husband and I recently marked that significant anniversary, and while there’s immense joy in reaching this milestone, our journey hasn’t been a fairytale. It’s been a gritty, honest, and sometimes painful testament to perseverance and, most importantly, to a persistent God.If you looked at the timeline of our marriage, you’d see a clear dividing line: fifteen years of war, and five years of peace.

The War Zone of Confusion

For the first fifteen years, our marriage felt less like a partnership and more like a battlefield. We loved each other—deeply, passionately, and fiercely—and we were committed to raising our family, yet our souls were profoundly confused. We were armed with a terrible arsenal. Words, anger, bitterness, and deep unrest were the weapons we deployed against each other. Every minor disagreement could escalate into a major conflict. We fought because we cared, yes, but mostly, we fought because we didn’t know how to truly connect. We were two individuals, scarred by our own histories, trying to build a future together without first disarming ourselves. The result was a constant state of tension, exhaustion, and hurt.We had all the external trappings of a good family, but internally, our spirits were starved.

The Slow Simmer of Grace

The beautiful, miraculous turning point began about five years ago, and it wasn’t a dramatic, instantaneous conversion. It was slow. It was deliberate. It was the Holy Spirit working tirelessly within our hearts, like a pot of vegetable soup simmering on the stove all day.You know that scent—the one that starts subtle in the morning but fills the entire house with comfort and warmth by evening? That’s what this change felt like. It wasn’t a sudden, blinding revelation; it was a slow, gradual infusion of grace that started to smell amazing long before it was finished.The bitter weapons we once wielded have slowly been replaced by tools that build:

Patience: The ability to pause before reacting and assuming the best intent.

Love (Agape): The unconditional love that chooses the other person, even when they’re annoying.

Forgiveness: The daily, essential practice of letting go of grudges and debts.

Compassion: The willingness to step into the other person’s shoes and understand their struggle.

Changing the Focus

The greatest shift came when we stopped trying to fix the past. We finally learned to gracefully let go of what can’t be changed —his past, my past, and the painful collective past we built together. We stopped using old grievances as fuel for new fires.Instead, we changed our focus entirely. We began focusing on the present moment, on the small things we could build together today: a shared prayer, a genuine conversation, a moment of laughter, or simply sitting in peaceful silence.

The past fifteen years were messy, but they prepared the ground. The last five years have been a beautiful process of planting, watering, and watching God grow something strong and true out of the scorched earth. It is a testament that no marriage is too far gone, and that when we surrender our weapons, we finally find the peace we’ve been fighting for all along.

If your marriage is in a ‘war zone,’ what small step can you take today to turn toward peace? What ‘tool’ do you need most right now?