When God Feels Closer Than Your Spouse: The Reality of Spiritual Isolation in Marriage

In 2009, everything changed.

I had been seeking God with all my heart, desperate for clarity. After completing a 40-day fast, His voice became unmistakable. He revealed that my time at our current church was over. He had prepared a new church home for me and my family—a place where we could grow spiritually, step into a new season, and embrace a deeper purpose.

But this call wasn’t simple.

God was asking me to step down from my position as head of the music ministry—a role that had shaped so much of my identity. He was asking us to leave behind friends, mentors, and a church family we loved. There was no job waiting, no familiar faces to welcome us, no roadmap—just His call to trust and obey.

I still remember the moment I shared this with my wife. After ten years of marriage and with two young boys—ages 7 and 4—I asked her if this was something she was willing to do. Her response came without hesitation: “Yes. Let’s do it.”

We packed up our lives and stepped into the unknown, walking together in faith. We joined a church where we didn’t know a single soul, trusting God to reveal why He had led us there. Slowly, we began to see His hand. We both started to grow spiritually in new ways, side by side.

I joined the worship arts team as a keyboard player and began serving again. For me, serving felt like a confirmation of God’s plan. And then, nine months after we arrived, something incredible happened—God opened a door. I was offered a position on staff at one of the church’s regional campuses.

It felt like the ultimate blessing—a divine affirmation of our obedience.

But as I stepped into this new role, I failed to see that while I was experiencing confirmation, my wife was feeling something else entirely. What I saw as a blessing, she saw as yet another disruption. Another step into the unfamiliar. Another stretch beyond what she was prepared to endure.

And then it happened.

One Sunday morning, she didn’t come to church with us. I assumed it was temporary. After all, transitions take time, and this had been a big one. But one Sunday turned into two. Two turned into weeks, and weeks into months.

She stopped going to church altogether.

I didn’t understand. God had been so faithful. His hand was so evident. Surely she could see the blessings that were pouring out on us. Surely she could feel the same confirmation that was fueling my faith.

But she didn’t.

Looking back, I see it so clearly now. The problem wasn’t just the move, the new role, or the transition. The problem was us.

During that 40-day fast, I had been praying fervently, but I was praying alone. I had been fasting, but I was fasting alone. Yes, we talked about the decision, and yes, we both prayed, but we hadn’t been truly seeking God together. 

We weren’t spiritually united in the process. And that gap—though invisible at first—slowly grew into a canyon.

It started as spiritual disconnection, but it didn’t stop there. It seeped into every part of our marriage. Before I knew it, we weren’t just spiritually disconnected. We were emotionally disconnected. Relationally disconnected.

And eventually, our marriage didn’t survive.

I wrestled with God for a long time after that. I had obeyed Him. I had followed His call. How could I lose my marriage while walking in obedience to Him?

But even in my darkest moments, God’s grace remained.

It’s been 15 years since that decision. 15 years since I answered God’s call and watched my marriage fall apart in the aftermath. And yet, here I stand today—serving in marriage ministry alongside my wife, Debra, at the very same church God called me to over 15 years ago.

Debra isn’t just my second chance at love—she is a living, breathing miracle, a reflection of God’s abundant grace. Her presence in my life is proof that He can redeem even the most broken places. Debra has brought light, hope, and healing into areas I thought were shattered beyond repair.

She has taught me what it means to walk in true partnership, to pursue God together, and to experience the kind of connection that transforms not only your marriage but every part of your life.

Today, we serve as a team, and our journey has helped us create something we call The Keeping It Lit Signature Framework—the very solution that took our marriage from 'fine' to phenomenal. It’s a proven pathway to reconnect with God and with each other, and it’s the foundation of how we help other couples transform their marriages.

Here’s what I’ve learned:
Spiritual connection doesn’t happen by accident. It’s not just about praying as individuals or pursuing God on your own. It’s about intentionally seeking Him together—fasting together, praying together, walking in faith together. 

Because when there is spiritual disconnect in a marriage, the impact doesn’t stay confined to faith. That rift grows quietly and affects how you communicate, how you love, and how you face life’s challenges. Every part of your marriage feels the weight of that distance.

But here’s the good news: it doesn’t have to stay that way.

If you’re feeling the weight of spiritual isolation in your marriage, know this: our journey through marital disconnect helped us uncover the truth that reconnecting is possible. We’ve experienced firsthand how intentional effort and a proven pathway can change everything.

God’s plan for your marriage is so much more than just “fine.” He designed it to be extraordinary, filled with purpose, unity, and joy. And it all starts with seeking Him—together. 

Take the first step. Pray together. Start the conversation. Invite God into the places that feel broken, and trust Him to do what only He can.

Written by Jabari Steward, Co-Founder of Keeping It Lit Media, helping Christian couples take their marriages from 'fine' to phenomenal through faith-centered transformation.