When Praying Together Feels Awkward

Scripture: Matthew 18:20 · Romans 8:26

One of us said it at the kitchen sink, hands still wet: "We should really pray about that." The other one nodded. Then we both went back to the dishes, and nobody prayed.

If that sounds familiar, you're not alone. Plenty of couples who love God and love each other still freeze when it's time to pray out loud together. We each pray on our own. We pray at church. But sit side by side, hold hands, and talk to God in front of the person who knows every one of our flaws? Suddenly our mouths go dry.

Why it feels so awkward

We've learned the awkwardness usually isn't about God. It's about us.

• We feel exposed. Praying out loud lets your spouse hear what you're really worried about, really grateful for, and really ashamed of. That's intimacy, and intimacy can feel risky.
• We compare. One of you prays like a preacher. The other prays like they're reading a grocery list. The "grocery list" spouse starts to feel small.
• We're carrying something. It's hard to pray beside someone when there's an unresolved argument sitting between you on the couch.
• We never practiced. Nobody showed many of us what praying as a couple looks like. So we assume we're doing it wrong.

What Scripture says about it

Jesus said that where two or three gather in His name, He is there with them (Matthew 18:20). A husband and wife are the smallest "two" there is. You don't need a perfect prayer to qualify. You need to show up together.

And when you truly don't know what to say, Romans 8:26 tells us the Spirit helps us in our weakness and prays for us when our words run out. The pressure to sound holy was never yours to carry.

What can help

We didn't start with long prayers. We started with short ones, and honestly, some nights they were clumsy. Here's what got us past the awkward stage:

1. Keep it to one minute. Set a timer if you need to. Short and real beats long and forced.
2. Take turns with one sentence each. "Thank You for today." "Help us with the bills." That's a prayer.
3. Pick a set time. Before bed, before leaving for work, or right after dinner. A habit carries you on the nights feelings don't.
4. Hold hands or touch shoulders. It sounds small. It reminds you that you're on the same team.
5. Don't critique each other's prayers. Ever. Not the grammar, not the length, not the topic.
6. If you're in conflict, pray anyway. Sometimes the most honest prayer is, "Lord, we're upset with each other right now. Help us." It's hard to stay angry at someone you just prayed beside.

The awkwardness doesn't vanish overnight. But one day you'll notice it's gone, and in its place is something you'd never trade: hearing your spouse bring your name before God.

This week's call to action

Tonight, before you sleep, pray together for one minute. Each of you says one thing you're thankful for and one thing you need God's help with. That's it. Then tell each other how it felt. No judgment, just honesty.

Let's pray

Lord, we confess that praying together doesn't always come easy for us. Sometimes we feel shy, sometimes we feel distant, and sometimes we just forget. Thank You that You meet us anyway. Teach us to come to You side by side. Holy Spirit, pray through us when we don't have the words. Make our home a place where Your name is spoken often and honestly. In Jesus' name, amen.

Guard or Prisoner?

One morning, while I was getting ready, God dropped a nugget of an idea into my spirit for a project I'm working on.

The first thought that crossed my mind was a practical one: "The most successful individuals write their ideas down right away."

Then came Habakkuk, rising in my spirit like a confirmation from God Himself: "Write the vision and make it plain."

The wisdom AND the Word were both telling me the same thing: write it down.

But I didn't reach for my phone. I didn't grab a pad. I just kept getting ready — and within the hour, I was struggling to remember what had felt so clear.

Later, explaining it to my husband, he asked me the question that stopped me in my tracks:

"Are you the guard, or are you the prisoner?"

Because "captive" itself is not a bad word. Scripture says to take every thought captive to obey Christ. A thought taken captive for Christ is not lost — it is held, protected, examined, and planted where it can root.

A guard does two things: he arrests what doesn't belong, and he protects what does.

But a prisoner is different. A prisoner is the one being held. And sometimes the cell isn't rebellion — it's hurry. It's distraction. It's "I'll write it later." It's a mind so crowded with the urgent that a God-given seed stays on the surface: unwritten, unplanted, unrooted.

Jesus warned that seed left on the path can be snatched before it takes root. Habakkuk says write it plain. Paul says take it captive. Put them together and the instruction is clear:

Catch it. Write it. Plant it. Guard it.

So today I'm taking my post as a guard. When God gives me a thought, I won't leave it loose in my head while the day steals it. I'll take it captive for Christ. I'll write it plain. I'll pray over it. I'll take the first obedient step while it's still fresh.

What about you — are you guarding what God is planting in you, or is distraction holding you prisoner?

Write it down today. ✍️

What's the Temperature in Your House?

What's the Temperature in Your House?

One of the minor inconveniences of getting older is that your body starts noticing temperature swings more than it used to. My wife might suddenly get hot, and so might I. One night I went to hug her, and she gave me "the look." Believe me, I got the message!

Lately, temperature has been on my mind because I've found myself feeling hot more often. While cooling down one day, I started wondering, What's the temperature in this house?

Then another thought came to mind: Are there different kinds of temperature in a home?

I found myself thinking about the emotional temperature and the spiritual temperature.

The emotional temperature rises when a husband and wife have a disagreement. The disagreement itself isn't the problem. It's how it's presented and how it's received that raises the temperature.

So how does a couple avoid entering the heat zone?

By staying in God's Word and keeping it on their minds.

For us men, understanding should be a priority. Marriage is a lesson that takes a lifetime to learn, and even then, we will never completely master it. Only by truly listening to and understanding our wives can we begin to make their lives easier.

The same principle applies to women. Understanding your spouse's needs, concerns, likes, and dislikes helps create an atmosphere where love can flourish.

Disagreements should be fought on your knees before God, not face-to-face as enemies.

"And because lawlessness will be increased, the love of many will grow cold."Matthew 24:12 (ESV)

Then there's the spiritual temperature of a home.

How hot or cold are you for the Lord?

Are you and your spouse pursuing Him together? Do you pray together? Do you give thanks together? Do you encourage one another spiritually?

The spiritual temperature of a home often reflects the spiritual battles being fought within it. A home where prayer is neglected will eventually feel the effects. A home where Christ is honored will experience His presence and peace.

"I know your works: you are neither cold nor hot. Would that you were either cold or hot! So, because you are lukewarm, and neither hot nor cold, I will spit you out of my mouth."Revelation 3:15-16 (ESV)

A thermometer only tells you the temperature; a thermostat sets it.

Somebody in the marriage has to be the thermostat.

Be the one who lowers the emotional temperature when conflict rises. Be the one who raises the spiritual temperature when complacency begins to settle in. Don't simply measure what's happening in your home. Through prayer, humility, and obedience to Christ, help set the atmosphere.

As for me and my house, I'd rather be a thermostat than a thermometer.

Unashamed at Home

I was in the middle of reading Contend by Pastor Philip Anthony Mitchell when I came across an interview with him — one of those street interviews, a young man named James holding a microphone outside a building in Atlanta, asking Pastor Philip how he got rich.

And I sat there with that book still open in my lap and cried. Not sad tears. Joy tears. This young interviewer has 26 million followers — twenty-6 million — and he is not ashamed to steer his street interviews toward God. He just asks. Out loud. In public. And because he did, millions of people who would never walk into a church just heard the gospel on their phones.

The pastor, for his part, talked about his greatest fear: standing before Jesus and hearing the words of Matthew 7:21 — "I never knew you." And his counsel at the end was simple enough to fit in one breath: trust God, and leave all the consequences up to Him.

I've been thinking about that interview for hours. Not because of the size of it. Because of the smallness of it. A microphone. A sidewalk. Ordinary obedience. God did the multiplying.

And then the thought landed where it always lands in our house — right in the middle of our marriage.

Why is it easier to be unashamed of God in front of strangers than in front of the person we sleep beside?

We know couples — and we've been this couple — who will share a verse online for five hundred people to see, but have never once prayed out loud where their spouse can hear them. Who talk about God at church and go quiet about Him at their own table. Who are brave everywhere except at home.

Paul wrote, "I am not ashamed of the gospel" (Romans 1:16). He said it about Rome — the hardest room he knew. For most of us, the hardest room isn't Rome. It's the kitchen. It's the bedroom. It's the two feet of space between you and the person who knows exactly how you really live.

And maybe that's tied to the pastor's fear. I never knew you. Underneath every marriage is that same longing and that same danger — to be truly known, or to live years side by side and still be strangers. God never intended marriage to be two people hiding in the same house. He made it to be the first place we practice being known: known by Him, and then, bravely, known by each other.

Jude tells the church to contend for the faith. We've decided that contending starts at home. It looks nothing like a microphone on a sidewalk. It looks like praying where your husband can hear you, even when your voice shakes. It looks like saying "God has been dealing with me about something" at dinner instead of swallowing it. It looks like telling the truth — the whole truth, the kind our book is named for — and then doing what that pastor said: trusting God and leaving the consequences up to Him.

Small obedience. That's all James had. A platform, a simple question, an unashamed heart. God handled the 26 million.

Your living room will never have 24 million people in it. It has one. One person who was given to you to know deeply and be known by deeply. If we can be unashamed anywhere, let it be there first.

Tonight, one small act of holy courage: pray out loud, where your spouse can hear you. Say one true thing about God at your own table. Start the interview at home.

Lord, make us unashamed — not just in public, but in private, where it costs the most and counts the most. Teach us to contend for our faith at our own table, to be known by You and by each other, and to trust You with every consequence. Amen.

If this encouraged you: our book, A Transparent Marriage — Choosing Truth When Everything in You Wants to Hide, is 24 weeks of learning to be known — by God and by each other. You'll find it in our sidebar.

Stop saying “I’m Fine”

There’s a sentence that quietly lives in so many marriages.

It slips out during arguments, during long days, during moments when the heart feels too tired to explain itself.

“I’m fine.”

I didn’t realize how often I used those words until the day they started sounding like a wall. Not a loud wall. Not an angry wall. Just a soft, polite barrier that kept my heart tucked away where no one could reach it. It was easier to say “I’m fine” than to say “I’m hurting.” Easier to say “I’m fine” than to say “I feel distant.” Easier to say “I’m fine” than to admit that something inside me needed attention.

But “I’m fine” never healed anything.

It only hid it.

In our marriage, transparency didn’t arrive in one big moment. It came in small, fragile sentences. It came in quiet confessions. It came in the courage to speak one true thing instead of hiding behind the safe, familiar phrase that kept us functioning but not connected.

I remember one night when the silence between us felt heavy. Nothing was wrong on the surface. No argument. No tension. Just distance. And when he asked if I was okay, the words rose up automatically — “I’m fine.” But something in me paused. Something in me whispered, Say the real thing this time.

So instead, I said, “I’m carrying something, but I don’t know how to talk about it yet.”

It wasn’t poetic.

It wasn’t perfect.

It wasn’t a full explanation.

But it was true.

And truth has a way of opening doors that silence keeps shut.

Transparency doesn’t demand that we spill everything. It simply invites us to stop pretending. It invites us to let our spouse see us — not the polished version, not the strong version, not the “I’m fine” version — but the real one. The one who feels. The one who hopes. The one who hurts. The one who needs.

Scripture says, “Speak truthfully to one another.”

Not aggressively.

Not dramatically.

Just truthfully.

Because truth builds connection.

And connection builds healing.

If you’ve been saying “I’m fine” lately, maybe tonight is a gentle invitation to try something different. Not a full conversation. Not a deep dive. Just one honest sentence. Something simple. Something real. Something that lets your spouse step a little closer instead of staying on the other side of the wall.

Transparency is not the whole journey — but it is the first step.

And sometimes, the first step is all you need to begin again.

---

Enjoyed this? Here's your next step:

• 📥 Download the free 7 Prayers for Your Marriage — seven short prayers to start praying over your marriage today.
• 💬 Print the Talk & Listen Conversation Cards — 24 questions that go where hearts live.
• 🕊️ Walking through a hard conversation? Get the Apology & Repair Worksheet.
• 🛡️ Praying over your home? Get The Armor of God: Prayers for Your Family.
• 📖 Our book A Transparent Marriage — our story, 24 weeks of Together Nights, and honest devotions with write-in worksheets ($21.99 paperback).
• 🤍 Follow along on Facebook and Pinterest for new posts and encouragement.