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We live, increasingly, in two places at once.

Our bodies sit at a dinner table while our minds hover in an open browser tab. Our hands fold for prayer while our thumbs remember the muscle memory of scrolling. We attend a child’s story, a spouse’s worry, a friend’s quiet confession—and yet some part of us remains tethered to the possibility that something else, somewhere else, is happening.

This is not merely a productivity problem, nor only a “kids these days” technology complaint. It is, at its core, an attention problem—and attention is not a neutral resource. It is one of the most consequential forms of agency we exercise all day long.

Whatever captures your attention quietly shapes your discipleship.

The Attention Crisis We Don’t Like to Name

There are obvious culprits—busy schedules, social media, the breakneck speed of modern life. But those are surface-level symptoms of something deeper: what we might call the tyranny of elsewhere.

The tyranny of elsewhere is the subtle assumption that real life is happening somewhere other than where you are right now—in the next message, the next headline, the next update, the next comparison, the next microdose of novelty. It is a form of spiritual displacement. You are always near your life, but not quite inside it.

And because it’s socially normalized, it rarely feels like rebellion. It feels like being informed. Being connected. Being responsive. Being “on top of things.”

However, the gospel’s vision of a holy life is not primarily about being “on top of things.” It is about being in things—fully, faithfully, consecratedly present.

“An Eye Single”: Attention as a Spiritual Faculty

In Doctrine and Covenants 88, the Lord gives an arresting promise: “If your eye be single to my glory, your whole bodies shall be filled with light.” That promise is recorded in Doctrine and Covenants 88:67. He then adds the kind of line we might read quickly, even though it should stop us: “Sanctify yourselves that your minds become single to God.” That instruction appears in Doctrine and Covenants 88:68. This echoes Matthew 6:22 and Doctrine and Covenants 82:19.

Notice what’s happening doctrinally.

1. “Single” is not merely “serious.”  It is not just intensity. It is integrity—wholeness. A mind that is not fragmented into ten anxious windows, a heart that is not constantly split between reverence and restlessness.
   
2. Light is not only a reward; it is a capacity.  The promise is not merely that God will be pleased. The promise is that you will become the kind of person who can receive, discern, and “comprehend.” Attention is the mechanism that God gives us for receiving that growth from Him.
   
3. Sanctification includes attention training. Sanctification comes through the Holy Ghost as we repent and keep covenants. When the Lord says, “sanctify yourselves,” He does not only mean “stop doing bad things.” He also means “become the kind of person whose inner life is ordered toward God” so we live in a way that the Holy Ghost can dwell with us. 

In that sense, presence is not cosmetic. It is covenantal.

Mindfulness, but With a Name and a Direction

It’s worth acknowledging: the modern mindfulness movement has rediscovered something true. Purposeful attention in the present moment—focus, concentration, awareness—really does change us. Many people feel, correctly, that distraction is costly.

In fact, research has repeatedly found that when our minds wander away from what we’re doing, our happiness tends to drop—even when we wander to “pleasant” thoughts. And intriguingly, other research suggests that many of us find it so uncomfortable to be alone with our own thoughts—even for a few minutes—that we will choose almost any stimulation rather than simply sit, reflect, and attend to the interior world.

So yes, mindfulness is real.

But the gospel adds something essential: mindfulness is not only attention to the present; it is attention consecrated toward God and toward people. It is presence with purpose—awareness shaped by love, gratitude, worship, and covenant loyalty. Or to say it plainly: disciples don’t just “live in the moment.” They learn to live in the moment with God.

Distraction as a Form of Spiritual Avoidance

If presence is the practice, what is distraction—spiritually speaking?

Often, distraction is not primarily laziness. It is avoidance.

• Avoidance of silence—because silence reveals what we’ve been carrying.
  
• Avoidance of weakness—because stillness makes us honest.
  
• Avoidance of other people—because deep attention requires vulnerability.
  
• Avoidance of God—because God, more often than not, speaks in what we rush past.
  

This is why phones are such a uniquely modern test of discipleship. They aren’t only tools; they are portable exit doors. With a tiny gesture, you can leave the room without leaving the room. You can opt out of the emotional demand of the present moment and relocate to something easier, shinier, safer.

This is also why “just use your phone less” rarely works as a long-term solution. The deeper work is to ask: What am I trying not to feel? What am I trying not to face? What am I trying not to hear?

Because the gospel is remarkably patient, but it is not casual about this: the life of faith is a life of turning toward—toward God, toward neighbor, toward responsibility, toward revelation.

The Covenant Verb We Keep Skimming: Observe

One of the most quietly illuminating patterns in scripture is how often the language of obedience is tied to attention.

Consider Mosiah 4:30: King Benjamin pairs a stern warning with a very practical diagnosis—“watch yourselves, and your thoughts, and your words, and your deeds, and observe the commandments of God.” That is not only about rule-keeping. It is about awareness. It is about living awake to your inner life, your outer impact, and your spiritual drift.

Similarly, the New Testament repeatedly pairs prayer with watchfulness: “Continue in prayer, and watch in the same with thanksgiving” in Colossians 4:2.

We could call this the tragedy of unattended grace—when blessings arrive, warnings are given, invitations are extended, and we remain too distracted to recognize what is happening. The scriptures do not treat that as a minor inconvenience. They treat it as spiritual peril.

A Brief Note on Phones: It’s Not Only About Content

When people talk about phone distraction, the conversation usually fixates on content—bad content, frivolous content, addictive content. That matters. But there is another layer that is arguably more insidious: even “neutral” phone presence can fragment attention.

Some research suggests that the mere presence of your smartphone can subtly draw on limited cognitive resources—what some scholars have called a “brain drain” effect. At the same time, it’s also worth noting that not every study replicates these findings perfectly, which is a good reminder that human attention is complex and context-sensitive.

Still, most of us don’t need a laboratory to confirm what our souls already know: when our attention is perpetually split, our relationships thin out. Our prayers become more performative than present. Our worship becomes more distracted than devoted.

And perhaps most importantly, our capacity to love people well diminishes—not because we stop caring, but because we stop noticing.

Step 1: Pay Attention

So what do we do?

Let’s begin with the simplest, hardest, most foundational discipline: Purposefully pay attention in the present moment. Focus. Concentration. Awareness. This can sound like a self-help slogan until we connect it to the heart of restored doctrine: the Lord’s invitation to live with an “eye single” and a “mind…single to God.”

To “pay attention,” in a gospel key, means at least three things:

1. Attend to what is real. Not what is curated. Not what is imagined. Not what is feared. What is here.
   
2. Attend to what is holy. The Lord’s hand in the ordinary, the needs in the room, the promptings that arrive quietly.
   
3. Attend to what is forming you. Because your attention does not merely follow your desires; over time, what we give heed to shapes our desires.

This is why the command to “watch” yourself in Mosiah 4:30 is so psychologically astute and spiritually mature. It assumes that sanctification is not accidental. It is practiced.

Step 2: Narrow the Eye

A scattered life is not usually healed by dramatic overhauls. It is healed by small, repeated acts of singleness—micro-choices that train the soul to stay. Here are three “eye-single” practices that are simple enough to try and meaningful enough to matter:

1) Consecrate the first look

Many of us begin the day with a reflex: eyes open, hand reaches, feed loads. Consider a different liturgy: prayer before phone. Scripture before scroll. A few minutes of quiet before input. Not because phones are evil, but because the first thing you look at often becomes the first thing that organizes your mind.

If you want your mind to become “single to God,” it helps to begin the day by letting God be real before the world is loud.

2) Build phone-free “altars”

Altars are places where we offer something to God. In modern life, one of the most meaningful offerings might simply be undivided attention.

A few practical examples:

• Meals: phones away—not face-down on the table, but gone.
  
• Bedtime: the last five minutes belong to gratitude, not content.
  
• Church: treat sacrament meeting as attention training, not background audio.
  
• Ministering: let the visit be a human encounter, not a multitasked event.
  

These are not rules; they are rituals. They are ways of saying, “This moment is sacred enough to deserve my full self.”

3) Practice “holy noticing”

Once a day, choose to notice one person more carefully than usual.

• Ask a real question and wait for the real answer.
  
• Remember a detail and follow up later.
  
• Offer a sincere compliment that is specific—not flattering, but seeing.

This is presence as charity: to love is to attend.

Step 3: Witness the Life You’re Actually Living

There is a reason “witness” language runs through covenant life—baptismal promises, sacramental renewal, temple ordinances. Witnessing is not only what we do in courtrooms; it is what we do with our lives.

To witness, spiritually, is to be able to say: I was there. I saw. I remembered. I did not miss what mattered.

This is one of the quiet gifts of being present: you begin to accumulate a life that feels cohesive rather than scattered—because you were actually in it. And in a subtle but real way, this is where gospel presence differs from mere serenity: we are not practicing attention simply to feel calmer; we are practicing attention to become more faithful.

“Forever Is Composed of Nows”

In a First Presidency message, President Dieter F. Uchtdorf, then second counselor in the First Presidency, quoted the line “Forever—is composed of Nows,” and then reflected on the spiritual significance of living in the middle—where real life, real growth, and real discipleship actually happen.

That is not just poetic. It is doctrinally provocative.

Because if forever is composed of nows, then the question is not only whether we will be faithful in the grand arc of our lives, but whether we will be faithful today—in this conversation, this ordinance, this irritation, this child’s question, this prompting, this quiet moment when the Spirit tries to get our attention and we are tempted to escape.

Holiness rarely announces itself with fireworks. More often, it arrives like a still, small knock. Presence is how you answer the door.

A More Luminous Ordinary

Imagine, for a moment, what it would feel like if a ward, a family, a friendship network quietly committed to being more present—not in an intense, performative way, but in a steady, covenant-shaped way. Sacrament meeting would become less about enduring and more about receiving. Ministering would feel less like an assignment and more like belonging practiced—seeing and naming one another, showing up with love, walking each other toward Christ. Homes would sound different, too. Fewer keyboard clicks and notification chimes. More laughter. More unhurried conversation. More silence that isn’t empty, but spacious—silence where prayer can actually land.

And perhaps, over time, we would discover something hopeful: that attention is not only a scarce resource being stolen from us; it is a gift we can still offer, intentionally, to God and to one another.

Not perfectly. Not constantly. But sincerely—and increasingly.

Because in the gospel, being present is not merely a wellness technique. It helps us keep commandments, practice gratitude, notice grace, and live with an eye single to the glory of God.

And that kind of singleness does something beautiful: it fills the ordinary with light.

The post The Sacrament of Attention appeared first on Public Square Magazine.

For decades, African American leaders and scholars have echoed Proverbs 17:22 that “a merry heart doeth good like a medicine.” Consider W.E.B. Du Bois, the first African American to earn a Ph.D. from Harvard and cofounder of the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People, who famously said, “I am especially glad of the divine gift of laughter: it has made the world human and lovable, despite all its pain and wrong.” Civil Rights hero Martin Luther King, Jr. is often quoted as having said, “It is cheerful to God when you rejoice or laugh from the bottom of your heart.” Indeed, African Americans have long used humor to cope with the ills of slavery and the unfairness of discriminatory practices. Research suggests that humor can fortify racial identity and cultivate optimism, hope, and resilience among Black Americans. Yet, humor seems to contribute even more than this.

We interviewed 46 Black married couples, nominated by their clergy as exemplary. Our American Families of Faith research team found that positive humor contributes to strong marriages and families in vital ways. In this article, we highlight three types of humor featured in exemplary Black families. 

Humor in Coping with Racism

Using humor to cope with racism (and other forms of stress) was common among the exemplary Black families we interviewed. Dean, a Catholic husband, said: 

Blatant racism happens to this day. We talk about it with each other. We use humor as a way to deal with it, as a coping mechanism. You can either cry or laugh. We know who we are, what we are, and Whose we are … [God’s].

Gwen, a quick‑witted and candid wife, explained with a twinkle in her eye how she turned the hurt of racism over to God and trusted that justice would someday be fulfilled. Glimpses of her humorous attitude were apparent:

[The] bottom line was we both knew that [changing the heart of a certain person at my work] was a job for God. … I just said to the Lord, “You just need to help me with this, because this person has a problem.” … So, I think the Lord just … whooped them up a little bit and then kicked them out! (Laughter) So, it was just one of those things where, yes, you will encounter [racism], and I know I will, until Jesus comes and gets me out of here. But … I can’t become bitter about it … because God is not going to put up with that. So, if they want to spend eternity in hell burning … because they won’t accept me, because my color is a little different than theirs, then that’s their problem. So, I have to just rest in the Lord on that one. 

Joelle, a Christian wife, also discussed racism:

To me, it’s not personal, it’s their ignorance. I have never doubted who I am or how important I am and how much I deserve to be on this earth. See, they’re wrong for misunderstanding, and I really believe that God loves me the most. (Laughter) 

Humor was a coping device for racism and other pain points, but humor was also used as a positive lever for navigating and strengthening the marriage relationship.

Humor in Marriage

After being prompted for advice they would give to other African American couples, Amber and Duane both talked about the importance of humor. Amber listed four tips for a successful marriage: communicate, be equally yoked, forgive, and keep a sense of humor. Duane concurred, that a “good sense of humor [is important] … for it to be a good marriage.”

Many participant couples shared humor-laced stories that highlighted how they used laughter to help their marriages flourish. Gwen said,

[I]f there’s something [a wife] needs to say to [her husband], … she should do so when things are calm. … Perhaps it’s a screen door that’s quite annoying because all he has to do is just repair it quickly with the screwdriver, something which she doesn’t know [how to do], and she tells him the first time about it, and he doesn’t do anything. Then, any other time she thinks about it, she needs to tell God, because God will whoop him up. (Laughter) … God can let him have it.

An African Methodist wife from Massachusetts named Joann said:

[L]et me just deal with God and wait for Him to change Gary over to my point of view, which is the correct point of view. …[B]ut usually when I’m waiting for God to change Gary, then [God] will be changing me! [God is] sneaky.  

Annie and her husband Al shared how humor and having fun were crucial to their marriage. 

Annie: You have to … make a decision to love and have fun. See, I was determined that this house was going to have some fun and that we were going to laugh and … be happy. Not only was I going to be happy, but we were going to be happy. Everyone was going to be happy. At the beginning, I had to [help] make Al be happy. ‘Cause you weren’t used to being happy. [Don’t] you think, [Al]?

Al: [No]. That’s why I married you. … I consciously made a decision [that] she’s going to bring joy into my life. [I decided], I can’t let her get away.

Al and Annie shared the following moment elsewhere during their interview:

Al: This woman is strong, resolute, focused … .  [S]piritually [and] physically, she’s been there. She’s been there. A great comfort. A great thing for a marriage.

Annie: Like old shoes. (Laughter)  

Al: [No], like a mighty mountain. A towering edifice —  a little … more grandiose than an old shoe. [To the interviewer:  [It ain’t all been] fairy-tale perfect, but we got 30 years in, … [and we’re] still smiling about it.”

Annie: [We are] still laughing, [and I am] still laughing at him. He cracks [me] up!

Several couples also shared warm sentiments while teasing each other. Joann, an African Methodist, described how their marriage has gotten better as time has gone on: “Things change; we are not the same people that we were when we were married. … [Actually], I think he’s gotten a lot better. [Thank heaven] (Laughter).” In like manner, Jefferson, a Christian husband from Louisiana shared, “We are each other’s friends. And, believe me, she advise[s] me every day, whether I want it or not. (Laughter)” Our participant couples repeatedly noted that they found joy in playfully teasing and sharing laughter with those they love. This reportedly held true in parenting as well as in marriage. 

Humor in Parenting

The use of humor among participants was not confined to the marriage relationship; many families also showed humor in their interactions with their children. Jefferson, a Christian father from Louisiana, shared the following story of his responsibilities as a father: 

We had three girls [in a row and] after we decided to have another child, I told my wife, “If this child is a boy, you don’t have anything to worry about. … I’ll do the … midnight feeding and change and wash the diapers.” Back then, we had cloth diapers. And sure enough, along came Shaun, and I had forgotten that I had made this promise. … But believe me, [Sierra] didn’t! She said, “‘Your baby is crying in there … . It’s time to feed [him] and change the diapers!”’ 

Jason, a Baptist father from Georgia, was asked if his children had influenced his religious involvement, he joked, “Some of them keep us on our knees (laughter)!”

Joann and Gary, who were also interviewed with their teenage daughter, Jasmine, shared a humorous moment when Gary discussed how his religious views and parenting were entwined:

Gary: [There] will be times when we’ll have a blow [up], and Jasmine will come up later and just say, ‘I’m sorry, Dad.’ And, probably not as often as I should, I’ll go down and tell her, ‘Yeah, I blew it.’ But … I always believe that God has created a wonderful child, and He may not yell at her, so He wants me to.

Jasmine (daughter): Yeah, right!

Joann (wife): I don’t think that’s in the Bible (Laughter).

Jasmine: No, that’s the “Gary” Revised Version.

Humor in Religion

Many families conveyed that parenting, humor, and (often) religion worked together for a healthy family life. Jason said: 

I believe Romans 8:28: “All things work together for good for those who love God and are called according to his purpose.” … Then, I’ve got to see that there is some good in this stress. So, I try to find the good in it, and [I ask], “Okay God, what are you trying to tell me in this?” More often than not, the simple message is, “You forgot, and you needed to be reminded.” [And I say], “‘Well, Lord, couldn’t you have been a little more subtle?”’ 

Joelle explained that she prayed about everything, even picking good oranges at the grocery store. She shared: 

My mother-in-law, before she passed, she used to laugh at me and say, “You know why God answers your prayers [so fast]? Just so he can have a moment of silence. Because you pray about everything!” (Laughter) 

James, whose beloved wife Betsy was struck by a drunk driver and was in a coma for several weeks, was able to express humor in the face of life’s pain. After the accident, Betsy “flatlined” and was resuscitated 13 times. Following this ordeal, which ended in Betsy’s miraculous improvement that eventually allowed her to return home in James’ care, he said, “At least I know my wife ain’t no cat, because a cat only has nine lives.” For nearly 19 years since the accident, James has provided full-service care for Betsy, who lost both of her legs in the accident. For James, humor and an indomitable will and faith have lifted heavy loads that self-pity could not budge.

We conclude with a report that seems to capture the ebullience, the faith, the passion, and the shared joy of life amongst our interviewees. Destiny, a Christian wife from Oregon, served up this gem eliciting explosive laughter and delight from her husband:

He is my lover and he’s an awesome lover. [Laughter] … And our children, we always said to them … “If you want to know what’s going on [in our bedroom], Mama and Daddy are just keeping Jesus happy.”

Bonding Humor as Healing Medicine

To date, our American Families of Faith research team has identified and published studies on numerous strengths in the exemplary Black families we have interviewed including faith, prayer, unity, egalitarianism, and serving others. The present study adds positive humor or “bonding humor” to the list. Some forms of humor (e.g., profane humor, ill-intentioned sarcasm) are explicitly incongruent with many religious beliefs and principles, but the exemplary couples who taught us present evidence that religion and positive humor can both play important and vital roles in building strong marriages and families. Hearkening back to Proverbs, these strong Black families echoed the value of that healing medicine to address life’s challenges in their words and lived experiences. Their examples offer much to contemplate.

The post The Power of Positive Humor in Strong African American Families appeared first on Public Square Magazine.

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If you want critical movie acclaim, there’s a reliable formula: tell a love story backward.

Start in the wreckage. Someone has cheated. Someone has checked out. The husband drinks too much, the wife works too much, and there’s a dead-eyed distance until one of them says something like, “I don’t think I’m in love anymore.”

Then cut to an earlier version of the same couple—young, magnetic, and unmistakably “in love.” They have a meet-cute, an immediate connection, a spontaneous slow dance. Cue the sweeping wedding montage, the surprise pregnancy, the tiny apartment made romantic with twinkle lights. We’re asked to believe this is what good married love is: intensity, spontaneity, romance.

Cut forward again, and we get the discovery, the confession, the paperwork, the sad soundtrack. The same question hangs over every scene, “How did we get from there to here?”

Outside the prestige marriage-in-freefall genre, the state of marriage on screen isn’t exactly hopeful. In early 2025, Millers in Marriage arrived as a relationship drama about three adult siblings orbiting dissatisfaction, infidelity, and divorce-adjacent choices. Later that year, Splitsville took the modern “maybe monogamy is the problem” premise and detonated it into chaos: a dissolving marriage collides with a supposedly successful open relationship, and it works out for no one. 

Isn’t it time for a new marriage story?

The thing about the marriage-falling-apart stories is that they’re often very good. The best of them are relatable in some small way to even the happiest of married couples. They treat the couple with a thoughtfulness and nuance that’s usually left out of the lighthearted rom-com genre. 

Marriage isn’t easy, and storytellers shouldn’t pretend it is. But something has gone very wrong when the most talented writers, directors, and actors are exclusively drawn to the most melancholic stories, while stories about strong and happy marriages and families are left to the realm of low-budget holiday made-for-TV movies.  Hollywood has gotten very good at depicting marital conflict and very bad at depicting marital repair. This repair is so often possible when marriage is viewed as a sacred covenant rather than a means of amusement and pleasure, something to be discarded when it ceases to serve that purpose.’

It doesn’t have to be this way.

Not long ago, a mainstream network drama gave viewers a marriage with real stress but no contempt and conflict without the constant threat of betrayal. Friday Night Lights wasn’t a story about perfect people. It was a story about people under pressure—career pressure, parenting pressure, community pressure—and a marriage that didn’t evaporate the moment it stopped feeling effortless.

Why does it matter if healthy marriages are portrayed on screen? It matters because we are formed by the stories we binge, quote, and internalize. Young people, who increasingly spend their waking hours on screens, have decreasing interest in marriage and family. This is great cause for concern, especially for people of faith who believe that marriage and family are central to God’s plan. Proverbs teaches, “For as he thinketh in his heart, so is he.” Who are we shaping ourselves and our children to be if so much of our media sows cynicism and discontent about marriage? 

My favorite movie about love—a true bright spot for marriage in movies—is Rob Reiner’s When Harry Met Sally…. What makes it quietly profound isn’t only the central story of two friends falling in love. It’s the way the film is stitched together with documentary-style interviews of elderly couples telling the stories of how they met.

The couples on screen are actors. But the stories are drawn from interviews gathered during the writing process—real people’s memories shaped into monologues, then performed with ordinary tenderness. The movie opens with a sweet elderly couple sitting on a couch, with the husband relaying this story: 

I was sitting with my friend Arthur Kornblum, in a restaurant … And this beautiful girl walked in and I turned to Arthur, and I said Arthur, you see that girl? I’m going to marry her. And two weeks later we were married. And it’s over fifty years later and we are still married.

Later in the movie, another husband shares:

A man came to me and say, “I find a nice girl for you. She lives in the next village, and she is ready for marriage.” We were not supposed to meet until the wedding. But I wanted to make sure. So I sneak into her village, hid behind a tree, watch her washing the clothes. I think if I don’t like the way she looks, I don’t marry her. But she look really nice to me. So I say okay to the man. We get married. We married for 55 years.

These vignettes are not “prestige tragedy.” They don’t build toward an award-worthy implosion. They’re small and human, sometimes funny, and improbable. They’re often surprisingly plain. 

Perhaps we are beginning to see a correction. Chloé Zhao, one of the best working directors today, crafts one of the year’s best movies around the theme of marriage repair and reconciliation in her Oscar-nominated film “Hamnet.” Other Best Picture-nominated films, such as “Train Dreams” and “Sinners” also show marriages strained and repaired. These films are showing a better, more interesting way forward. We have plenty of conflict, realism, and cynicism. What we need is repair.

If you can only imagine love as a feeling you either have or don’t, then the moment the feeling dips, the story is basically over. But if love is also a practice—something you learn, fail at, return to, choose over and over again, and grow into—then marriage doesn’t have to be filmed as either a fairy tale or a tragedy.

Which brings me back to Valentine’s Day. We need better marriage stories that are honest about difficulty and honest about endurance: depictions of husbands and wives who don’t merely “stay together” but learn how to turn back toward each other again and again until the ordinary becomes, in its own way, extraordinary.

The post A New Marriage Story appeared first on Public Square Magazine.

About 25 years ago, an LSU graduate class read Family Life in Black America, a nearly 400-page volume written by leading social scientists. Near the end of a class discussion, a Black student named Katrina Hopkins raised her hand and posed a piercing question: “Why is there not a single chapter in this book that talks about strong, marriage-based Black families like mine?” Katrina found no adequate response.

It has taken nearly 25 years, but the high-profile journal Marriage & Family Review recently dedicated an entire special issue to that topic. Nearly half of the pieces in this special issue are based on BYU’s American Families of Faith project, a 25-year study of the strengths and characteristics of a diverse group of highly religious spouses, with which the authors of this article are affiliated. Of the roughly 300 families in the American Families of Faith Project, 46 were Black. An emerging insight from the research was this: strong Black families were built on serving others. In this article, we share three insights on the service that contributes to strong Black marriages and families. 

Meeting Others’ Physical Needs

For the exemplary Black families we interviewed, service through physical care of others was central to the life and marriages these women and men had built together. 

Caring for the sick was one way of serving the physical needs of others. Jacquie, a Christian wife, described her husband’s physical care for her in reverent tones:

The most difficult thing was having my cancer diagnosis. And my husband … stepped up to the plate and took charge of me as I was going through my treatments and things—just made sure that my different needs were met… . [H]e took really good care of me.

Similarly, a mother named Keisha explained what her husband Wes’ care meant to her:

[Our] second child … was very difficult. I didn’t get any sleep, and she didn’t sleep through the night until she was one year old. And I wouldn’t have made it if it had not been for Wes, because he would get up in the middle of the night, he’d put her to sleep on his chest, and he’d bring her to me so I could nurse… . [He] was incredible. That was … one of the most difficult things I’ve ever been through … and he was right there.

Interestingly, virtually every exemplary Black family we interviewed had housed at least one non-biological child for weeks, months, or years—providing for them out of their own resources. This was so common that we dubbed these welcomed youth temporary children. When asked how many children each family had housed over the years, one family said the number was so high that they did not know. 

Serving the physical needs of in-laws was another way Black families served. A Christian wife named Jada shared the following:

I brought [my husband] Jacob to my mother. She, my mother, loved him like he was her own son. [Years later] my mother ended up in a nursing home. We ended up taking care of my mother for some years, and he helped me to take care of my mother—just like she was his mother… . There was one night we had to put my mother in the bed between us, [to keep her safe]. She had Alzheimer’s [so bad at the end and would wander off]. Now what husband does that? (laughter) … He really stuck by me in every way. 

Later in their interview, Jada said of Jacob, “If you get a husband that’s like that, then I think you … you did good.” Jada and Jacob were both entering a second marriage when they were wed, and they each brought their own children with them. Of this challenge, Jada said:

Jacob treats my children just like they’re his, and I do the same… . [Then] my sister died some years later, and … we raised her three children. She had a set of twins, a girl and a boy; they [were only] three years old [at the time].

Jada and Jacob ultimately raised six children together. At one point, the time came when the children were the ones serving the parents. Jada explained:

I think we had a lovely life … until these days came here recently where Jacob was paralyzed for … about three months from the waist down… . But through all that … all those six children that we raised, those children came to pay bills, [took care of the] grass to be cut. They did [all of it], they … took care of us. 

Indeed, our participants repeatedly conveyed that service to one person often perpetuates additional acts of service. 

Theme 2: Service through Emotional Support

Our research showed that Black families also offered service through emotional service. A Baptist husband named Anthony said: 

When I shake your hand—and we are talkin’ [especially about] young Black men [and] men in general—I shake your hand and I look you dead in the eye and I … say, ‘How you doin’?’ … Sometimes it don’t even get to that point, … [I] get there and [they] say, ‘Ah man, can I give you a hug? … I needed what you said.’ … Anytime you [have] got a man cryin’, they [are] not cryin’ out of weakness, they [are] cryin’ cause the enemy has pulled them from where they are supposed to be at and … [they’re] like, ‘I need help.’

Anthony later explained, “It’s just that sometimes when you say stuff to people and you really mean it—consistently, it makes a difference in people’s lives.” Anthony’s approach applied to his local and faith communities, but the importance of emotional service was frequently focused on family. 

Phil, an African Methodist father, was effusive and passionate when he said,

When you see your kids, hug ’em. … One time in the course of every [single] day, I tell my kids, ‘I love you,’ give ‘em a big hug … hold ‘em, let them know I care. I let them know, ‘I love you not because it’s just the thing to say, but because I DO; and … God loves you too.’ So even when we do go through little life struggles, it’s okay, because someone who loves them is going to be there through the good and the bad. 

Gwen, a Christian wife, also had someone to love and serve her during her struggles. Years after the event, Gwen vividly recalled how her husband Kordell helped her through a difficult pregnancy and delivery:

Kordell was so attentive and … caring about how I felt. [And then] while I was in labor, which was about 26 hours … [He’d say,] ‘I’m concerned about you. How are you feeling? How’s it going?’ … and he’d hold my hand for contractions and stuff, and I’m squeezing his hand [so hard that] he never thought he’d play the piano again! (laughter) … I really saw his real love for me, for who I was—his wife, not just the producer of his kids—which really strengthened our marriage a lot, ‘cause I thought, ‘He really cares.’ Well, this man really does love me, oh my gosh! (laughter)

Serving and caring, however, do not originate in a vacuum. At a different point in their interview, Kordell spontaneously reflected on the power of Gwen’s example of service. 

One thing about her is she’s very much into … sowing into other people’s lives anonymously. ‘Cause, often times, she will buy things for people, know what they really like, send it to them anonymously, and they’ll never know it was her. She’s just totally into that… She’s very consistently [serving others in] that way. 

We see that emotional care was an elevating experience not only when done for a spouse, but when such service was lovingly (and perhaps anonymously) done for someone else. 

Even so, service is often costly and rarely convenient. This begs the question: Why give so much? 

Our third and final theme sheds light on this question.

Theme 3: Service to Others is “Living Faith”

The most prominent theme relating to serving others in the data was the influence of faith on service. A husband named Leonard explained: 

If I go out there and see a poor man down, [I shouldn’t] look down on him—[instead, I must] pick him up. I don’t [care] how he stink[s]—God said, ‘I love them all, they all are my children.’ So, I can’t pass nobody; [the] Savior don’t pass me by. When I pass by somebody that needs help, I’m passing God.

Another couple, DeShaun and Jamilla, shared how their beliefs affected their view of service:

Jamilla: We should be good stewards of our time and our finances, that we give back [because of] what He has given and done for us. It’s good stewardship. Some people call it a sacrifice to give your time and your money, but … that’s part of being a believer.

DeShaun: All those things are His, anyway… . The time is His. The money is His. We’re just stewards… . I think that’s what helps us through hard times—because no matter what we lose … it’s not ours. 

The concept of divine stewardship—similar to what some faith traditions call consecration—was echoed by Candice and Shandrel, a Baptist couple, who said of their time and money:

Candice: I give time, but I don’t think [it’s] really mine; I think it’s …

Shandrel: It’s not actually our time.

Candice: It’s not our time… . You need to give … time so that you can be a contributor, and in giving your time, you learn that … you [also] give your finances. 

Shandrel: And then you [come] to love what you do.

Candice: You love what you do, you become a good steward.

Like Jamilla and DeShaun, Candice and Shandrel referenced sacred religious beliefs that influenced how they served, gave, and viewed resources. In addition to sacred beliefs, participation with a religious congregation was frequently mentioned as participants described how their faith informed their service to others. For many, participating in the faith community reportedly provided both individual and collective experiences that centered around serving others. A non-denominational Christian wife named Briana said:

The congregation is very important, and [they]’re my spiritual family… . When you hurt, I hurt. … We are [our] brother’s keeper—servants to one another. And that’s what the Lord says: We are servants to one another.

Looking Outward Together

In a passage from the Holy Bible—a book that the faithful Black women and men we interviewed cherished and frequently quoted in their interviews—King David’s final recorded question to his people was this: “Who then is willing to consecrate his service this day unto the Lord?” (1 Chronicles 29:5). 

We learn from these remarkable women and men that perhaps the deepest marital love does not consist of merely gazing at each other, but, as Antoine de Saint-Exupéry observed, “in looking outward together in the same direction” with eyes fixed on lifting sisters and brothers in the broader human family. The exemplary Black families that opened their homes to us and taught us revealed that consecrated service is one of the key ingredients of the secret sauce of a championship-level marriage. May we all benefit from this revelation.

The post The Service Ethic Behind Strong Black Families appeared first on Public Square Magazine.

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This article is part of a four‑part series that draws from insights in our forthcoming book, Exemplary, Strong Black Marriages & Families (Routledge, in press).

My journey as a researcher of strong African American families of faith begins with a short story about my paternal grandmother. As a highly religious, praise-dancing, Bible-quoting woman of faith, my grandmother based her every thought and decision on a religious foundation. After being diagnosed with colon cancer, she faithfully tucked her prescriptions into her Bible in lieu of having the prescriptions filled. If she was here today, my grandmother would argue that she won that battle against cancer. She would emphasize that she was faithful to the end, and she trusted that God would have healed her, if it was His will for her to be healed on this Earth. However, for a 16-year-old kid who just wanted his grandmother, her death left me with more questions than answers. Unbeknownst to me at the time, her death would plant in me a seed to understand religion and its role in Black families.

One day, while sitting in Loren’s office during our weekly Monday meetings, and while expressing my frustration with my dissertation proposal, he revealed that he had something for me. Handing me a massive 4-inch binder with over 1,000 pages of narrative interview data, Loren asked me if I would like to read the interviews of the married, strong Black couples that he had researched for over a decade. I read all 1,000 pages of interviews over a single weekend. I was fascinated! The stories of these marriages were so rich, so detailed, and so sacred. I was amazed that it could even be considered “research.” The role of religion in building a strong marriage was central to each interview, and this further ignited my desire to understand religion in Black families. The Monday after I had been handed a binder too big to fit in my bookbag, I asked Loren if I could utilize the interviews on strong Black families to examine how religious coping had contributed to their strong marriages. He enthusiastically agreed. We have now been research partners for 13 years.

Despite my desire to study strong Black marriages, I was not necessarily surrounded by these types of relationships growing up. Neither of my grandmothers were in long-term marriages. In addition, my parents divorced around the time I graduated from high school. My parents had separated long before their divorce, so most of my memories of “family” came from looking at old pictures and seeing us all smiling together. Growing up, the best example I had of a strong marriage was a set of my great-grandparents, who were married for about 60 years before the death of my great grandfather, Paw-Paw. Paw-Paw was a minister in Southern Louisiana. He was deeply grounded in his faith, and he raised my highly-religious, praise-dancing, Bible-quoting grandmother that I mentioned earlier. I never thought much about my great-grandparents’ marriage, nor did I have a real opportunity to understand it because I only observed it as a child. However, I do know that they shared many similarities with the married, strong Black couples I have interviewed for my research. They saw their marriage as a sacred bond. As the grandchildren of slaves who were legally unable to marry, they were determined to honor their marital vows and build a family on faith and religious beliefs. I wish that I had been able to witness more of my great-grandparents’ marriage, but I am also thankful because I recognize the privilege of having a strong Black marriage in my family’s history.

When I ask Black couples who have been married for up to 60 years how they have done it, I am documenting their experiences for the many Black people who, like me, have rarely (or never) witnessed a strong Black marriage. I am documenting their experiences for the many Black couples who, like my wife Tasha and me, are still figuring out how to grow closer together each day. I am documenting their experiences for the many Black communities around the world that, like mine, are burdened by external stressors (such as financial strain, racism, and incarceration) that constantly threaten the stability of the Black family. Every moment, every interaction, and every opportunity has carried a purpose that has brought me exactly where I am, doing exactly what I am called to do at this moment, which is studying strong Black families and loving the journey. 

Never in my wildest dreams did I think that my conversations with Dr. Loren Marks and a weekend with 1,000 pages of narrative data would change my life. Yet, they have. Each time I speak about my research, Black communities and families share with me that there is a need—an unquenchable thirst—for stories of Black couples deeply grounded in faith and unwaveringly dedicated to marriage. I have been a witness and recorder of profoundly sacred family moments where husbands have poured out their hearts to their wives and wives have found comfort in the arms of their husbands. I have been invited to vow renewals, wedding anniversaries, and family dinners. A few months ago, I received word from a husband I had interviewed that his wife had recently died. He thought enough of our interview to let me know the news. For me, that was deeply powerful, and as I revisited their interview, I thanked God for allowing me to share in such a sacred experience. 

I am indebted to Public Square Magazine, as they will be running three additional articles during Black History Month to highlight our team’s work with Black families. I urge you to stay tuned as you hear directly from the voices of strong Black families this month. These articles will focus on: (1) serving others, (2) using faith to cope with racism, and (3) the power of positive humor. As you engage these stories, I invite you not simply to read them, but to receive them. Allow the lived faith of these families to speak to you, to teach you, and to bless you and those around you. These stories are not ours to own, only to share. They are reminders that Black love grounded in faith can be profoundly powerful— capable of overcoming even the highest hurdles attempting to impede familial stability. May their faith strengthen yours, and may we continue to go forward as one people, as brothers and sisters, just as civil rights leader John Lewis urged us to do. 

The post Studying Strong Black Marriages Changed My Own appeared first on Public Square Magazine.

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“Change does not roll in on the wheels of inevitability, but comes through continuous struggle.” —Martin Luther King Jr.

Sometimes the week’s sermons foreshadow a struggle that will soon knock at your door.

My wife, Missy, and I learned this recently in a peacemaking crisis with a neighbor, which came less than 24 hours after we heard two sermons on peacemaking. I’ll call our neighbor Alice (not her real name). She’s a short, stocky, 50-something woman who walks with a waddle. She loves animals. Between November and March, Alice feeds the crows pounds of peanuts. The result is a noisy murder of birds and a roof and yard (ours) littered with shells that clog our gutters.

Then, about six months later, on the Monday morning before Thanksgiving, Alice knocked on our door as we were busy preparing to leave for the airport.

“Did you put this on my door?” she asked. 

She showed us a piece of light blue paper with these words: “PLEASE STOP FEEDING PEANUTS TO THE CROWS!!!!!”

“No,” I responded.

“Did someone else in your house put it out? I know you don’t like the peanuts,” Alice said, her face and voice making clear she was not convinced by my denial.

“No, we didn’t put that sign out,” Missy said.

“Are you lying to me?” Alice asked.

“No,” I said.

I was terse because there was no time to talk. Like those birds, we had to catch a flight.

And with that, Alice shrugged her shoulders in frustration, turned around, and stomped down our steps. In her mind, we were guilty.

The next Monday morning, we were back home. A crow was on our skylight, pecking away at something. I worried the bird might chip the window. As I often do, I opened our front door to raise my hands and shew away the murder congregating on the street.

Alice saw this through her window and was steamed. She stormed over, knocked on the door, and asked to speak with me.

“I was on the phone with my daughter just a minute ago when I saw you open your door and wave the crows away,” Alice said, her voice on edge and full of spite. “I know it was you who put the sign on my door. You are sign people. You have a no soliciting sign and that other one asking people to not leave dog poop on their lawn. Why can’t we just talk about this and not behave like we’re in middle school? What is your problem with the crows?”

This was quickly turning into a Shakespearean tragedy, with Alice misinterpreting our every word and move.

I explained calmly that the crows’ pecking wakes us up and clogs our gutters. I could have added that their repeated noises bothers one of our daughters, who has sensory issues. And there’s also the potential for their pecking to ruin our roof.

As I closed the door, she lobbed one last verbal grenade.

“The crows are the nicest neighbors I have,” Alice said. “You are so mean!”

I immediately wondered—was I too forceful, too rash? The exchange rocked us and turned the day to ash.

The next afternoon, we composed a note of apology for misunderstanding her and regret for the scene that marred our Monday. Missy left it on Alice’s porch with a loaf of pumpkin chocolate chip bread.

Alice responded a week later with a brief note, sent via snail mail. She thanked us for the bread but did not apologize. Her words felt like a backhanded way of saying we are to blame.

With the wound still fresh and our minds in disbelief at her callousness, we tossed her note in our recycle bin. We wanted to be right. We wanted her to see the logic of our clogged gutters and our daughter’s sensory needs. But the ensuing silence was heavy. The poison of strife was setting in, that physical tightening of the chest that happens when a neighbor becomes an adversary.

It was here that the sermons from that Sunday began to sink in. The peacemaking process can be chaotic and confusing. As the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King famously noted, “Change does not roll in on the wheels of inevitability, but comes through continuous struggle.”

Love and forgiveness are the only way forward. Thus our quick offering of peace. This Dr. King also knew. “Darkness cannot drive out darkness: only light can do that,” he said. “Hate cannot drive out hate: only love can do that.”

Alas, progress toward peace feels less like a victory march and more like the slow process of clearing a blocked gutter—one handful of debris at a time. But we will try. And we will keep trying.

We want to be peacemakers. But peacemaking is a long dance, a communal project that must be engaged in by both sides. Whether it is building muscle, better habits, stronger relationships, or a neighborhood and society where we simply respect and love each other, nothing comes to pass without Dr. King’s idea of “continuous struggle.”

In Moses’ reflection of the wonder of his theophany, we find a powerful phrase: “I beheld [God’s] face.”

Though this painful experience with Alice remains unresolved, it was an opportunity to behold her face up close—not merely as the “crow lady” or a source of drama, but as someone created in the image of God. We are commanded to love her who, at the moment, feels like an enemy. As the musical Les Miserables concludes, “To love another person is to see the face of God.”

The continuous struggle to find that divine face in the neighbor is the path toward the light of God. It is not paved with grand gestures or born of sudden, mountain top epiphanies, but is carved out of daily rhythms of relation where we smile at others, say hello, step into shared spaces, and listen. The struggle isn’t heroic—it’s habitual.

The post The Continuous, Habitual Struggle for Peace appeared first on Public Square Magazine.

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Marriage in America is in trouble. Rates of new marriages are at an all-time low, and record numbers of Americans have never been married. Many young people fear they will either never marry or, if they do, the marriage will end in divorce. Is there anything they can do to improve their chances of marital success? 

Thankfully, the answer is yes. Recent research from BYU’s Wheatley Institute shows that several practices within each spouse’s control contribute to stable marriages. I emphasize two of these: being fully committed to your spouse and participating in religious activities together.

Religion reinforces commitment in marriage by inspiring greater accountability. Many religions teach that marriage is more than just a civil agreement between two people—it includes a promise to God and each other to maintain the union. The more married couples prioritize each other and God, the more likely they are to stay married. When challenges arise, religious couples tend to believe they are accountable to God, not just their spouse. This elevated perspective encourages them to consider reconciliation over divorce. 

Religion also reinforces commitment by promoting honesty. Many religions charge their members to be upstanding individuals who are earnest and trustworthy. Honesty helps couples maintain complete fidelity to each other—helping them stay committed to each other and avoid divorce. 

Religion also offers quality recreational couple time through activities like scripture study, church attendance, and community outreach that reinforce the couple’s shared religious identity. These activities, offered by a shared religion, encourage healthier interactions between the couple and greater internalization of their shared religious beliefs. 

Being devoutly religious can also be protective against divorce. A 14-year Harvard University study reveals that couples who regularly attend religious services together are 50% less likely to get divorced. The Wheatley Institute has likewise shown that shared church attendance is linked to greater stability in a marriage. In turn, these religious couples report feeling greater meaning and purpose in their lives, as well as higher satisfaction and happiness in their marriage. Religion benefits relational commitment even further when shared religious practices are also observed in the home. 

Highly committed religious individuals are also less likely to cohabit before marriage, according to the 2020 Busby and Dollahite study. Contrary to popular belief, cohabitation does not lead to improved marital outcomes. Rather, cohabitation is a mark of lower commitment in a relationship. Cohabitation says, “I like you, but I still want to be able to walk out.” Couples who cohabit are more likely to dissolve the relationship before marriage or ultimately end their marriage in divorce, according to a 2022 study. Cohabitation fortifies a lack of commitment, as many cohabiting couples continually push marriage off further or indefinitely. 

Of course, not all religious people have successful marriages, and commitment takes great intention to maintain in the long run. But with so much concern about marriage among young people, it’s important to emphasize what is within their control. Through religion, couples can find greater strength in their marriage that fortifies their commitment to each other. While the risk of divorce can never be completely eliminated, religion paves the way for a lasting marriage with high commitment.

The post The “Me-First” Ethic Is Breaking Marriages Before They Begin appeared first on Public Square Magazine.

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This article marks the twelfth and final article in the Peacemaking Series. In 2023, the late Prophet, President Russell M. Nelson, issued the call, Peacemakers Needed. TheFamilyProclamation.org answered this call by producing 12 playful, 1 to 2-minute videos teaching principles and tactics for Peacemaking. While secular in their content, each video was directly inspired by the principles taught in President Nelson’s talk. When writing each script, the creators presented scholarly theories from the fields of psychology, philosophy, conflict resolution, and communication, which would help support an individual trying to integrate President Nelson’s message into their personal and professional relationships. Public Square Magazine published this 12-part article series as an opportunity to exhibit the research that supported the content of each video. Each article acts as a companion piece for one video from the series.

Questions for Conflict

The final video in the series presents a list of “Questions for Conflict.” Each question references principles taught in the previous videos. The intention is that an individual who has watched all the videos can quickly view this last video to help them remember what they have learned. The questions aren’t a test; they help guide an individual’s thinking as they consider the course of action they ought to take when trying to make a conflict more peaceful.

In similar fashion, this companion article lists the link to each video in the series, the link to its companion article, the main ideas taught in that video and article, and then the action question from the resource video above. Our intention with this article’s brevity and organization is that it may become a simple reference guide, something easily bookmarked for quick access, sharable with friends or family; an aid for creating more peace while navigating social conflicts in life, for inspiring “love one toward another” and to go “about doing good” (1 Thessalonians 3 and Acts 10). God bless us all as we grow in our discipleship of “The Prince of Peace” (Isaiah 9).

Controlling Anger

The Art of Peacemaking: Controlling Anger by Bridging Logic and Emotion

Main Idea: When anger or other strong emotions surge, they can hijack our judgment, pushing us toward reactions that harm understanding and connection. By pausing to breathe deeply, we slow the body’s adrenaline response, give our rational mind time to catch up, and create space to act with clarity, patience, and purpose instead of hostility.

Question: Should I take a few deep breaths?

Conflict Is Natural

Conflict is Natural: How We Mistake Discomfort for Destruction

Main Idea: Conflict is when two or more opposing forces meet each other, and our personal associations with that word—whether positive or negative—reveal how we understand and respond to disagreement. By maturing those associations toward a “conflict is natural” perspective, we learn to see conflict not as something to fear or even like, but as an inevitable process toward discovering balance, harmony, and productive solutions.

Question: What good can come from this conflict?

Semantic Ambiguity

From Babel to the UN: How Semantic Confusion Undermines Peace—and the Radical Power of Clarity

Main Idea: Many disagreements begin with semantic ambiguity—the confusion that arises when a word carries multiple meanings and each person assumes their own definition is shared by everyone else. To resolve such confusion, take time to unpack the word by asking, “What do you mean by that?” This simple act builds the communication foundation for genuine peace through clarity.

Question: Are any of the words we’re using ambiguous?

Positive Gossip

What If Gossip Isn’t a Sin—But a Skill in Peacemaking?

Main Idea: Gossip––any conversation about someone who is not present—is a pervasive part of human communication, and it can be either negative, focusing on the faults of others, which spreads harm, or positive, celebrating others’ virtues and reinforcing unity. Intentionally pivoting from negative to positive gossip by asking questions that encourage empathy fosters compassion, strengthens relationships, and transforms ordinary conversation into a constructive force for understanding and social unity.

Question: Have I acknowledged this person’s strengths?

Bridges of Understanding

The Complex Art of Christian Kindness: Building Bridges

Main Idea: Conflicts often arise not because people truly disagree, but because people misunderstand one another’s perspectives. The solution is to ask sincere questions motivated by genuine curiosity and the desire for positive connection—turning toward “bids.” This builds understanding, fosters goodwill, and allows people to navigate differing perspectives without compromising personal standards.

Question: Do I sincerely believe this person knows something I don’t?

Disagreements Bring Balance

Disagreements Bring Balance: When Silence Isn’t Peace

Main Idea: Many people avoid speaking up in disagreements out of fear of rocking the boat, being judged, or creating conflict, yet this silence often limits perspective, stifles collaboration, and diminishes relational authenticity. By embracing vocal disagreement through empathy, curiosity, and structured techniques—such as using “I statements,” talking in parts, asking clarifying questions, and restating others’ perspectives—individuals can take responsibility for expressing their own views and create deeper connections.

Question: Have I expressed every part of myself honestly?

Forgiveness

 You Don’t Need to Feel Forgiving to Forgive

Main Idea: The experience of personal betrayal often leaves lasting pain, presenting a tension between holding onto anger or extending forgiveness, a choice that affects both the offender and the offended. Forgiveness is an active, deliberate process practiced through steps like naming the hurt, imagining dialogue with the offender, switching perspectives, and then choosing between anger and forgiveness. Even without trust, apology, or change from the other person, one can cultivate compassion, emotional healing, and freedom for oneself.

Questions: Why am I hurting? Why might they be hurting? Am I choosing to give them anger or forgiveness?

Save the Relationship!

Disagreement: Three Steps toward Relationship Conservation

Main Idea: Even minor disagreements, if mishandled, can threaten the very heart of a relationship, causing lasting damage. By following the three-step approach—first separating the conflict from the relationship, next resuscitating the bond with gratitude and repair attempts, and finally addressing the deeper needs behind the disagreement—relationships can be preserved, strengthened, and transformed into opportunities for understanding and growth.

Questions: Have I separated the relationship from the conflict? How can I “resuscitate” the relationship? How can I address their deeper needs?

Conflict Styles

Why Winning Doesn’t Make You Right: Five Conflict Styles

Main Idea: Disagreements are inevitable, and no single approach suffices for every conflict; understanding the five conflict management styles—Oblige, Promote, Collaborate, Compromise, and Avoid—helps prevent resentment. Discern the needs of yourself and others, then apply the appropriate style for the situation: you can oblige when the issue matters more to others, assertively promote when it matters more to you, collaborate for mutual solutions, compromise when time is limited, or even avoid the conflict altogether when it’s just not that important.

Questions: Who has the greater need here? Which conflict style would be wise for me to use?

What is Power?

The Paradox of Power and the Secret Strength of Meekness

Main Idea: Power, defined simply as “the ability to control a resource,” emerges not from domination or coercion but from recognizing and effectively using resources (both internal and external). Sustainable and righteous power grows through self-mastery and compassionate influence, inviting others to engage willingly in play.

Questions: What resources are available to me? What should I stop participating in, and start participating in?

Peacemaking

Peacemaking, Redefined: Why Civility Feels So Radical

Main Idea: Rising social and interpersonal tensions make even minor disagreements feel threatening to relationships. The introductory video and article explain that the Peacemaking Series teaches that healthier connections can be cultivated by taking personal responsibility, approaching differences with empathy and respect, and modeling peacemaking one interaction at a time.

Question: What can I do to be a peacemaker?

About The Sykline Research Institute

The Skyline Research Institute hosts the website TheFamilyProclamation.org. As a non-profit organization, they combine scripture, scholarship, and stories supporting the doctrine and teachings in The Family: A Proclamation to the World. You can follow them for podcasts, original research, more video content, and even lesson plans for families and classrooms through their social media accounts or at their website, TheFamilyProclamation.org.

The post The Final Lesson of Peacemaking: Ask Better Questions appeared first on Public Square Magazine.

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For a field devoted to mending relationships, the numbers are uncomfortable: multiple datasets suggest therapists divorce more than the general population. 

As our culture increasingly relies on therapeutic tools to heal our minds and mend our relationships, we would do well to be curious about why this surprising trend exists.

Multiple data sources indicate that therapists, counselors, and similar professionals have above-average divorce rates. One analysis of 449 occupations found that categories like “therapists (all other),” “counselors,” and “psychologists” reported divorce rates around 12-40% higher than the average. 

More recent data echo this pattern. For example, a 2022 American Community Survey analysis revealed that clinical and counseling psychologists had the highest divorce prevalence among high-income professions.

Therapists are highly educated and reasonably well paid, factors that protect most of the population against divorce. Why does that not work for them? Why should a group that we turn to to help us with our relationships be so bad at them?

These questions tend to be speculative by nature. Little research analyzes root causes. One role an editorialist can take is to look at available data and use their best reasoning to suggest potential avenues for researchers to explore in trying to answer the next batch of questions. 

In that spirit, here are some of my ideas about why therapists may get divorced at much higher rates than the general population, both to help understand the phenomenon and to provide potential warnings for the many people going into this field and hoping to keep their marriages alive.

Emotional Burnout and Compassion Fatigue

The work of a therapist is intense: hour after hour inside other people’s panic, grief, and rupture. Over time, that drains the tank. Psychology has a name for it—burnout; in clinical circles, compassion fatigue. Whatever the label, the symptoms are the same: exhaustion, detachment, a thinning capacity for empathy. 

Home can often absorb the spillover. When you spend the day offering careful presence to strangers, your family too easily gets what’s left. Patience shortens; small irritations loom. Spouses feel a subtle withdrawal—not hostility, just a steady turning inward that starves intimacy.

Confidentiality compounds the strain. In many jobs, you can debrief a hard day over dinner. Therapists can’t. The heaviest stories stay locked inside, which means the person most able to comfort you is cut off from the very thing that would explain your mood. One partner feels shut out; the other feels alone.

Compassion fatigue is real, and if we want to understand why therapists have such high divorce rates, we can’t just skip ahead to the ideological reasons; we need to understand that there are likely lifestyle reasons.  It’s a structural risk of the work: chronic exposure to distress, emotional labor as a day job, and necessary secrecy can make home the place where compassion runs thinnest. Marriages do not thrive on leftovers.

But this doesn’t explain why therapists get divorced more than other caregiver roles, like day care workers or physicians, or other confidential roles like attorneys or defense employees.

Blurring of Boundaries: Taking the “Therapist” Role Home

Home is not a clinic. Yet the habits that make a clinician effective—slowing a conversation, analyzing motives, keeping emotion in check—can misfire with a spouse. Partners often report feeling assessed rather than engaged. The dynamic tilts: one becomes the knower; the other, the case.

You can’t be your own therapist. Blind spots are built in, and the therapeutic lens—so valuable at work—can breed a misplaced confidence at home. Formulations start to feel like verdicts. The give-and-take a marriage requires disappears, as any compromise feels to the therapist like an abandonment of professional principles.

Layer onto that a professional life organized around boundaries and containment. After a day holding other people’s pain without spilling your own, dropping your guard with a spouse can feel unnatural. If the therapist’s stance remains—calm, controlled, always managing—the relationship registers distance rather than safety. One partner feels examined; the other feels unseen. Over time, that role confusion becomes a steady headwind against intimacy.

Personal Struggles and the “Wounded Healer”

Therapists are human first. Many come to the work by way of their own personal pain—their own or someone they love. The old “wounded healer” insight endures: we often offer what we ourselves have needed. Surveys of clinicians and trainees regularly find elevated rates of depression and anxiety. 

Perhaps therapists get divorced at higher rates not because the work of therapy makes them more likely to divorce, but the personality and trials of people drawn to therapy include personal demons that also negatively impact their personal lives. 

This can intersect with compassion fatigue and blurred boundaries because cases that resonate with a therapist’s own experience can reverberate for hours or even days. While about 10% of the general population has sought out therapy, as many as 84% of therapists seek out their own therapy. 

This isn’t destiny, of course. Many clinicians do the personal work, seek supervision, and build sturdy marriages. But the wounded‑healer pathway, the pull toward caretaking, and the temptation to over‑interpret create structural risks. Naming them—candidly and charitably—helps couples set better boundaries, seek help early, and keep the marriage a place of reciprocity rather than repair.

High Expectations and the Critical Eye

By training, therapists know the taxonomy of “healthy” relationships—attachment styles, red flags, best‑practice communication. Useful in the clinic, that knowledge can harden into a scorecard at home. Ordinary friction begins to read like pathology; quirks look like patterns. The standard rises, tolerance falls. Marital life gets graded.

The pattern can invert, too. Professional empathy easily becomes professional rationalization—explaining away a partner’s lapses as trauma, stress, or insecure attachment. Problems are tolerated longer than they should be until the frame flips: this is “unhealthy.” Once a marriage is reclassified that way, the therapeutic script offers a ready exit—boundaries, self‑protection, discharge. The same counsel therapists give clients is applied to themselves, with the same clinical confidence.

Layer on perfectionism. Relationship experts feel pressure to model what they teach. When normal rough patches appear, the gap between ideal and reality can read as failure—of the marriage, of the partner, or of the self. Instead of lowering expectations or seeking help early, the cleaner solution is sometimes to declare the fit unsound. The theory remains intact; the relationship is the variable removed.

In sum, the therapeutic posture—optimization, diagnosis, and a low tolerance for “unhealthy”—can make therapists exacting partners and impatient reformers. Knowledge that should invite patience and humility can, misapplied, produce hyper‑critique or delayed but decisive exits. If divorce rates among therapists are indeed higher, that looks less like a paradox than the predictable byproduct of a professional lens carried home.

The Therapeutic WorldView

Therapy at its best honors real goods—agency, empathy, honesty, companionship. 

As a worldview, though, its defaults can migrate from clinic to kitchen table: affirmation as first principle, Rogerian unconditional positive regard flattened into unconditional self‑regard, and expressive individualism cast as the highest good—the center of gravity shifts from we to me.

In that frame, ordinary marital friction is reinterpreted through an individual‑first lens: Are my needs validated? Is this relationship serving my growth? Missteps become “misalignment.” Discomfort is pathologized as “unsafe.” The partner is evaluated for fit with a personal arc of self‑actualization rather than joined in a covenant that presumes mutual sacrifice. What helps a client articulate needs in session can, at home, license a steady escalation of standards and a shrinking tolerance for imperfection.

This is not to say these clinical approaches and worldviews have no place. But when you apply them on a constant basis to what would otherwise be a healthy relationship, it can end up creating the sickness itself. Perhaps it acts like an emetic—if you swallowed something harmful, it can be useful to induce vomiting. But if you were healthy before, now you’re just vomiting. 

It’s a profound irony that those who guide others through relationship struggles face more such troubles themselves. 

While no single explanation fits all cases, I hope that one or more of the above suggestions can lead to better answers in what is happening, and help those who rely on therapists in their relationships to have a better understanding of the limitations of the help they are receiving.

Why do therapists get divorced at such high rates? We’ve explored several likely contributors: the emotional toll of therapeutic work that can leave little energy for one’s spouse, the difficulty of leaving the therapist role at the office, and personal histories or traits (the “wounded healer” phenomenon) that can complicate one’s own marriage. Added to that are the high standards and insights that can make therapists both hyper-aware of relationship flaws and perhaps less willing to tolerate them, and a professional-cultural openness to ending unhappy unions, which, combined with economic independence, makes divorce a more accessible choice.

For readers and experts alike, this discussion opens the door for further reflection and research. If those who know the most about relationships are still struggling, what does that tell us? Perhaps it’s a humbling reminder that knowledge alone isn’t enough—it takes continued effort, self-care, and sometimes external support to apply it. It also highlights the importance of addressing therapist burnout and mental well-being, not just for their clients’ sake but for their own families. Ultimately, understanding why therapists have higher divorce rates isn’t about pointing fingers; it’s about learning how we can better support the helpers, so that the wisdom they share with others can more readily nurture their own closest relationships. By shedding light on these possible reasons, we hope to invite deeper conversation—among professionals, within training programs, and among spouses—about what it takes to sustain a healthy marriage in the context of such an emotionally demanding career.

The post The Divorce Epidemic Among the People We Pay to Prevent Divorce appeared first on Public Square Magazine.

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As mental health therapy becomes an increasingly prominent feature of contemporary life, it becomes more important to stop seeing the practice as a monolith and recognize it as a bundle of distinct practices, philosophies, and goals. Sometimes these different approaches even directly contradict one another. 

Latter-day Saints understand the importance of caring for our mental health and often utilize mental health practitioners. But that doesn’t mean every approach is worth trying or comports with Christian principles.

Differentiation therapy, however, conflicts with the principles of Christianity broadly and the Restored Gospel specifically. In addition, despite the modality’s current popularity, there is little evidence that this approach works.  

What is Differentiation Therapy?

Differentiation therapy is a psychotherapeutic model advanced by David Schnarch. It is also sometimes called “crucible therapy.”

Schnarch posits that the purpose of our relationships is individual growth, and that the way to heal relationships is by focusing on our own needs, identity, and preferences separate from our partner. 

Schnarch first published his theories in the early 1990s. He built on the ideas of one of the early practitioners of family therapy, Murray Bowen. Bowen pioneered systemic therapy, a therapeutic approach that recognizes how our struggles are often found within the complex system of relationships in a family. Bowen articulated “self-differentiation,” the ability to recognize and define yourself as an individual within that system, as one of the items in tension in the family system. 

Schnarch focused and emphasized self-differentiation, recontextualizing this idea within the affective domain of marital intimacy, asserting that the path to greater eroticism, emotional fulfillment, and personal development lies not in interdependent vulnerability but in cultivating emotional autonomy and self-definition. He contends that genuine intimacy emerges when each spouse remains firmly rooted in a differentiated self, experiencing anxiety within the relationship that spurs individual growth, and resisting the urge to seek validation from the other. Schnarch’s framework is built on the maxim that relational maturity is contingent on one’s ability to “hold onto oneself,” particularly in the face of emotional intensity.

As Paul teaches in 1 Thessalonians 5:21, “Prove all things, hold fast that which is good.” Differentiation therapy doesn’t hold up to those standards.

For Christian or Latter-day Saint engagement, any therapeutic model must be assessed through two interdependent criteria: its empirical reliability and its theological coherence. Specifically, a model must conform to a theology that affirms the covenantal, sacramental, and grace-dependent character of human relationships. 

On both empirical and theological grounds, this model raises serious concerns. 

Similarities to the Gospel

Before diving into why differentiation marriage therapy doesn’t adhere to Christian theology, let’s first grant that there is much about the ideology that can appeal to those in our tradition. 

Crucible Therapy is so named because the idea is for us to improve ourselves like metal does in a crucible. This metaphor is familiar to Latter-day Saints, who have heard it consistently in General Conference addresses for decades.

We want to grow, which sometimes requires us to do (or endure) difficult things. Joseph Smith even described his time in Liberty Jail as a “crucible.”

Personal growth is a key component of the Latter-day Saint conception of life and the eternities, as we rely on the grace of Jesus Christ to become more like Him.  

And we view marriage as a key pathway to achieving that personal growth. Elder Richard G. Scott described the overarching theme of the “eternal blessings of marriage” as “trying to be like Jesus.”

Even the concept of self-differentiation itself is not opposed to the gospel. After all, in President Russell M. Nelson’s 2008 formulation, salvation is “an individual matter.” In each Latter-day Saint ordinance and covenant made from the first at baptism to the temple endowment, individuals participate independently.

The problem with differentiation therapy is not the ingredients, but rather the emphasis, proportions, and timing.

The Sacramental View of Marriage

Scripture and tradition present a vision of marriage not as a mere partnership but as a covenantal and ontological union. Genesis 2:24 and Mark 10:8 declare, “the two shall become one flesh,” articulating a unity that transcends sentiment or legal arrangement. This union is sacramental, reflecting the mystery of divine communion and typifying the nuptial relationship between Christ and the Church. 

Within Latter-day Saint theology, this union also echoes the oneness of the Godhead and extends to eternal dimensions. Eternal marriage is not a symbolic ideal but a sacred ordinance that enables joint participation in the divine nature. In this view, marital unity is achieved through consecrated covenant keeping and divine grace.

President Gordon B. Hinckley famously warned that “selfishness is the great destroyer of happy family life.” Christian ethics consistently portray the self not as autonomous but relationally constituted, and pride as the origin of spiritual alienation. Love entails the displacement of self-centeredness. Schnarch’s valorization of emotional self-sufficiency is in tension with Christ’s self-emptying love.

Schnarch does attempt to articulate an ideal of oneness near the end of his second book. He writes, “Holding onto yourself and becoming more differentiated actually leads to the loss of the self you’ve been holding onto.” In this, he articulates a goal shared by Christians. But Schnarch gets the order precisely backward. In teaching the Twelve Apostles, Jesus said, “He that findeth his life shall lose it: and he that loseth his life for my sake shall find it.”

The Rev. Lauren R.E. Larkin, an Episcopalian, notes that Schnarch’s model implies what I might describe as a form of psychological soteriology in which transformation is self-engineered and internally sourced. In contrast, Christian soteriology comes from the sacrifice of the self in our relationship with Christ, and that happy marriage comes from applying the same principle. 

Specific Theological and Pastoral Concerns

Schnarch’s philosophy is hardly the only one to be at odds with the principles of Christianity. But it warrants attention both because of its growth among those providing therapy for Latter-day Saints and the specific negative behavioral outcomes it can produce. 

Reframing of Selfishness as Growth

In Schnarch’s paradigm, behaviors that prioritize the self over marital unity are reframed as developmental milestones. This conceptual move risks legitimizing patterns of emotional disengagement or moral abdication that Scripture identifies as destructive.

Devaluation of Mutual Dependence

Christian marriage presupposes mutual reliance and covenantal solidarity. Emotional interdependence is not pathological but redemptive. By pathologizing need and elevating stoicism, Crucible Therapy undermines the logic and purpose of marriage within the Christian life.

Therapeutic Destabilization of the Vulnerable

The deliberate intensification of anxiety may compound harm in couples already contending with trauma or asymmetry. Without a framework of mercy, discernment, and accountability, this method risks exacerbating wounds rather than fostering healing.

Psychological Work as Identity Formation

Crucible Therapy reflects and clinically adopts a broader cultural trend: the belief that personal identity is best discovered through solitary psychological excavation. For Christians, our truest identity is revealed not in looking inward but in looking upward—to God—and outward—to others.

Undermining the Redemptive Power of Weakness

Differentiation therapy often frames strength in a relationship as the ability to withstand emotional storms alone. But Latter-day Saint theology teaches that God’s power is made perfect in our weakness, and our spouses as a “help-meet” for those challenges. Schnarch ignores the redemptive capacity of dependence. 

Flattening the Eternal Narrative of Marriage

Perhaps most fundamentally, differentiation therapy assumes marriage is primarily a context for individual growth and erotic renewal. But for Latter-day Saints, marriage is the divine setting for exaltation. While it shares the desire for marriage to be a conduit for individual growth, the Latter-day Saint conception of marriage has a project much more lofty and eternal in mind. 

Secular therapies can’t be expected to fully integrate all gospel understanding. Still, we can avoid the ones whose explicit goals and practices set us toward different goals than those we are pursuing.

Toward a Christological Integration of Differentiation and Unity

The question of how to balance differentiation and unity—how to maintain personal identity while becoming “one” with another—is not merely a psychological puzzle but a theological one. For Christians, the life of Jesus Christ provides the supreme model for how distinctiveness and relational communion are held in perfect harmony. He is not only the exemplar of love but the embodiment of divine identity lived in full self-giving.

Throughout the New Testament, Christ’s actions and teachings demonstrate a perfect union of individual authority and relational surrender. In John 5:30, He declares, “I can of mine own self do nothing: as I hear, I judge … because I seek not mine own will, but the will of the Father which hath sent me.” Here we see a Savior who is fully self-aware and fully self-sacrificing. His divine agency is never wielded for isolation but always for communion—first with His Father, and then with those He came to redeem.

The pre-mortal Christ likewise demonstrates an integrated identity in His dealings with Israel. In Exodus 3, He reveals Himself as “I AM,” an assertion of sovereign selfhood. Yet He repeatedly binds Himself in covenant to His people, dwelling with them, feeding them, and pleading for their return. His identity is never diluted, but His divine selfhood is always offered for relationship.

In 3 Nephi, the resurrected Lord descends among the Nephites. What does He do? He weeps. He heals. He prays for their unity, invoking the language of divine indwelling: “that they may be one, as thou, Father, art in me, and I in thee” (3 Nephi 19:23). Here again, the goal is not emotional distance but sanctified closeness. Christ does not ask us to become strong by ourselves. He invites us to be made whole in Him. At no point is differentiation set against unity. Rather, disciples are expected to retain their agency and consecrate it—to grow, yes, but to grow together.

From this Christological lens, differentiation is not a prerequisite for unity, nor is unity a threat to identity. Instead, selfhood and love are co-eternal truths, fulfilled in covenant. The Savior does not command us to “hold onto ourselves” but to take up our cross. He does not sever our personhood; He sanctifies it in communion.

In Jesus Christ’s life, death, and resurrection, we see the perfect integration of individuality and unity. 

Recommendations for Moving Forward

For Latter-day Saints looking at what kinds of marriage therapy are appropriate for them and their circumstances, I have a few pieces of advice. 

Not all therapists and therapeutic practices are created equal. As mental health resources are often in short supply, it can be tempting to visit the first person with a license and an opening. But it is worth being discerning, especially in a venue where we are opening up our hearts and minds to someone. 

While “Latter-day Saint therapists” can be helpful (if unnecessary) in that journey, be careful to understand whether your therapist merely understands the vocabulary of Latter-day Saints or is committed to helping you maintain your worldview.

Preserve your moral and spiritual lexicon. Grace is not a synonym for internal resilience. Sin is not a developmental stage we grow out of. 

Based on my experience, observations, and analysis, my advice is for Latter-day Saints to exercise considerable caution before engagin in differentiation therapy or working with clinicians who practice it. There are approaches that better align with the gospel of Jesus Christ, and which the evidence shows work better.

David Schnarch’s Crucible/Differentiation Marriage Therapy presents a psychologically articulate, but ultimately inadequate framework for relational transformation. Its emphasis on self-validation, emotional independence, and internal differentiation diverges from the best practices evidence shows work and the covenantal, grace-saturated vision of Christian marriage.

The post When Therapy Undermines Marriage: How Differentiation Fails the Christian Model appeared first on Public Square Magazine.

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One of the most fascinating and inspiring transformations in literature is found in Victor Hugo’s beloved character Jean Valjean. Valjean was convicted for “stealing a mouthful of bread” to feed his sister and her children and was then sentenced to 19 years of hard labor in prison. After his release, he was treated as an outcast by most who saw him. 

One, however, showed him mercy. Bishop Myriel welcomed Jean Valjean, fed him, and invited him to stay the night at his monastery. Jean Valjean was unaccustomed to any form of kindness, and prison had ingrained in him the tendency only to fend for himself. He stole some silverware and ran away, only to be caught and dragged back to the scene of the crime. With divine grace, the bishop said the silverware was a gift, then refused to press charges and pointed out that Jean Valjean had forgotten to take the candlesticks. The bishop’s act of redeeming kindness and forbearance saved Valjean from spending the remainder of his life back in the pit of a Parisian prison. Instead, the bishop secured Valjean’s freedom and provided a fresh start, along with the assurance and sacred charge that Valjean’s soul now belonged to God.

Through this experience with a godly guide, Jean Valjean transformed his character and thereafter used his strength, abilities, and life to help others. The skeptic can justly point out, however, that Hugo’s Les Misérables is classical French fiction. Does “divine transformation” happen to real people in contemporary America?

The American Families of Faith Project includes 198 diverse couples who were identified by their respective clergy as “exemplary” and “strong” in their commitment to their faith and to each other. The balance of the present article compactly reflects a recent social science study that explored the personal and relational “transformations” reported by highly religious wives and husbands. 

Theme 1: The Quiet Miracle of Gradual Transformation

Among the families interviewed, 64% of couples mentioned relational transformations that happened gradually. Such changes often reportedly began with one individual family member, who eventually had a positive impact on others—or even on the whole family. For Darian, an African American Christian husband, the transformative influence came from his wife. He explained: 

I’ve watched her impart … values in the lives of our children over the years. … [T]hat has so much encouraged me to want [to be] more of who God is. By watching her example and watching her pour into them day after day. Just in the small things that she would do during the holidays, things she would do … when the children were very young, before they became of school age. … The Bible became living and alive [to] me because of her.

While the positive examples of family members were frequently referenced, transformation also happened through relatively small practices that were repeated across time—including engaging in worship services and personal prayer. Alvin, a Presbyterian father, reported that he was able to overcome family difficulties through the help of church attendance. He said: 

Going to church on Sunday, when I first went, the good feelings, the positive energy that I felt at church, at first it lasted through Monday, and then I’d be back to my old nasty self. [But over time, the positive energy] slowly progressed, until finally the energy was flowing throughout the whole week so that it was a process of realizing how foolish I felt when I went to church and saw people being so utterly kind to each other and … not focused on themselves. It really brought [me] out of my [self].

Although not as abruptly altered as Jean Valjean, both Darian (through his wife) and Alvin (through “people being so utterly kind to each other” at church) were significantly affected by the compassionate and moral actions of godly people. 

Many others we interviewed similarly spoke of gradual change in their relationships with each other and with God over time. A Jewish couple, Esther and Reuben, said:

When we were first together, our views of God were very different. … I think as we have bonded together [and] had a greater spiritual unity, the relationship with God has deepened. I don’t know that I had as deep of a relationship with God before I got married [or] before we were really close, as I do now.

A gradual transformation reportedly came as Esther and Reuben “bonded together” and developed “greater spiritual unity.” They further reported that as their relationship deepened, so did their relationship with God. 

Another example was offered by Yuan and Li-Mong, a Chinese American immigrant couple who converted to Christianity in mid-adulthood. They described a gradual transformation where their relationship had changed “more and more” because of their faith:

Yuan: Our temper did not grow with our age. Our edges and corners [were] ground out. Faith really [has had] great influence on our marriage. 

Li-Ming: After quarreling, we had to face God; I would blame myself when I [would] think it was my fault. 

Yuan: God really influenced our marriage. [We] thank God. I don’t know how we would be in China if we had not come to the U.S.A. and [come to] believe in God. After we believed in God, our relationship [isn’t] like the world’s man and woman. God has [a] positive influence on our marriage … more and more.

Another slow but meaningful change was reported by Mei, a Christian wife from Taiwan who converted to Christianity along with her husband Qin following 20 years of marriage and a move to the United States. Mei reflected:

We have a big difference in our individual character. He is irritable, I am tender; he is organized, I am not. Qin is always very busy, so sometimes he didn’t know … the situation of our family (or our) children’s development; (or) his situation and mine. We had many conflicts before. … I would (be) frightened by his loud voice. I always cried. He didn’t listen to my explanations. Now (Qin) has changed his temper, and our conflicts are less and less. It was God who changed him. I couldn’t change him for 20 years …

In summary, about two-thirds of the couples we interviewed discussed personal and relational transformations that might well be called quiet miracles of gradual transformation. Even so, they were not the only transformations discussed.

Theme 2: “One Significant Moment”—The Miracle of Sudden Transformation

Many participants, even without being asked to do so, identified one significant moment that catalyzed dramatic and significant change in their actions and relationships. For Jean Valjean, his one-time experience with the merciful and grace-filled bishop helped turn him down a path of service. He truly had felt that “[his] life [was] claim[ed] for God above,” and he shed his former criminal identity. A similar phenomenon of a sharp turning point was reflected in the words of one American Families of Faith participant who said, “I determined at that point that I had to change.” 

Diana, a Christian mother, in a marriage now spanning decades, had a sudden change of heart through an abrupt internal shift near the beginning of her marriage. She recalled:  

[Early on], I ended up in [a] marriage and basically it was a failure. I did not do things well and I did not do things right, and I can remember standing—standing at my kitchen sink one [time] when we’d been married for a couple of years, and I thought, “I’m so unhappy, but I can’t leave,” because divorce was never an option. So I said [to myself], “Either I’m going to change, or I’m going to be miserable for the rest of my life.” So, I determined at that point that I had to change, and just become more godly, and not expect so much for myself, not be so selfish, and [not] expect everything to revolve around me.

Like Diana, others shared singular and sudden experiences that changed their marriage, priorities, and families. Kayla and Jamar, African American Baptists, shared that their transformation—unexpectedly stimulated by the destruction of their pride and joy—their dream car. 

Kayla: I remember asking God, even from the beginning of the year, to bring my family and me close[r] … and the [car] accident did that. … [I]t’s changed. We had a new deal, to do what God has called us to do. … After that happened, it just made me realize that life was too short not to be doing [or] giving my best. So … that was a [big] moment. 

Jamar: It was just the car wreck … the car was basically new. I think it made us look at material things in a different way … and it made me realize what is important, and it’s not “stuff.” It’s life and family and God that [are] important.

One particularly remarkable transformational spiritual experience was shared by Ty, an African-American, Nondenominational Christian husband. Shifting from his typical playful banter to a place of significant seriousness, Ty said:

I … was chasing … life … away. I mean, misusing my family, treating the “world” like [it was] on top. … [B]ut when I accepted God that night, my life and things began to change.

Ty then proceeded to tell his story of “that night.”

I was at a strip club one night. [I was] high, [and] had been drinking, high as a kite, me and my buddy, and he was sitting just like me and you [are] … [and] I heard a voice [call my name], and I said, “Man, stop playing.” He said, “I ain’t call[ed] you.” I heard that voice three times. [Y]ou probably remember the story of Eli and Samuel [in the Bible]. When Samuel went to Eli [after hearing the voice], [Eli] said, “If you hear that voice a third time, [then] say, ‘He[re] am I Lord.’” [Well], I heard that voice three times, and it was so soft.

Ty got up and left not only the strip club, but also broke ties with his drinking buddy. He went on to explain:

God had to change my life, my priorities, and get it lined up right. And once God lined my priorities up, then everything started working the way it was supposed to be in my marriage.

This was not only a significant turning point in Ty’s personal spiritual journey, but the experience reportedly pushed him to prioritize his marriage and family. The transformation had both personal and relational consequences.

Theme 3: The Combination of Gradual and Sudden Transformations

In addition to discussing (a) gradual transformations and (b) sudden, “one significant moment” transformations, many participants discussed experiences that demonstrated positive relational change through both elements of gradual and sudden transformation. Several accounts, for example, involved one spouse changing gradually and the other changing suddenly. Other accounts included a single (sudden) experience or recollection that also reportedly stimulated a gradual change in its wake. Malcolm, a Catholic father, identified a specific moment when his children inspired him to change, and then how he continued to change across time. He said: 

When we were younger, my first two children, I wanted them to go to religion classes … but I wasn’t participating then. … [Also], I would send [my kids] to mass with my wife and my mother, and my dad. And one day, one of my children asked me, “Why should I go there if you don’t go?” And it was very real to me. That’s what started my conversion, because I figured that if I was gonna share religion, then it would need to be a religion that I knew something about. … So, I started to feel the need, and the more I felt the need, the more it became real to me.

The beginning of Malcolm’s conversion came because of a sudden wake-up call from his child, and it motivated him to commence on a long-term faith walk. 

For Holly and Miguel, their individual paths took years to merge into shared transformation and unity in relationship with God. In Holly’s case, the path of faith was slow and steady and had been her walk since childhood. She explained,

There’s a hymn we sing at church that says, “As a deer longs for running streams, so I long for you.” Faith is that longing and knowing that it’s God [that you need].  Some people don’t have that, but I’ve grown up with that and have the understanding as an adult that…I [need] God in some fashion, and that it’s a natural, instinctive thing.  As you grow and learn more about yourself, and your spirituality broadens and you understand certain things in relationship to God, you learn that you need to feed that faith.

Miguel was a Latino Catholic physician who had gone through a recent professional firestorm. His academic and professional life had been marked by expectations of deep fulfillment that never materialized. His recent trials, which occurred after achieving medical prominence, yielded this reflection regarding faith:

As you go through life and its steps, you seek fulfillment.  We would say, “When we finish med school, it’ll be great.  When I finish residency, it’ll be great.  When I get my own practice, it’ll be great.” But you get to each step, and it’s cool, but there’s still that longing…. That’s why we need our faith. That’s why faith is important to us, because ten years ago we were trying to “make it” but (making it) is not what satisfies the longing…. [I have discovered that] faith is the only thing that satisfies that hunger and that longing that seems insatiable.  

For Miguel, the inability to find true fulfillment in his ascension, followed by his abrupt halt on the medical ladder, gradually brought him to a new place of deeper faith and understanding.

Another couple, Lin (H) and Zhen (W), reportedly wrestled with God for nine years and finally “accepted God” after a harrowing experience. They explained, “We together first believed in God because of the adversity in May of 1995, [when] we lost our first child. We were baptized together for the same reason.” Notably, the tragic death of a child has led more than one religious person away from faith. However, in Lin and Zhen’s case, the result was the reverse. Lin told us, “The desperation of a man is the beginning of [knowing] God.” From the crucible of child loss, Lin and Zhen emerged as compassionate partners and (as reported by congregational “sisters and brothers”) they became sources of profound strength and service in their faith community. 

As we consider the “sacred ground” experiences shared by some of America’s exemplary married couples, we are confronted with accounts of crashed cars, dark moments of failure, the call of God to leave a strip club and “get right,” jarring comments from children, and even the loss of a child to death. Even so, it was not these events themselves that produced personal and relational transformations. Rather, the catalyst seemed to be that during the trials of life, these women and men discerned a call from God and then answered that call to become more fully His.

One of the beloved songs sung by Jean Valjean in the Broadway version of Les Misérables reflects a time in his life when he is facing the man he once was. The lyrics indicate that Jean Valjean has gained divine confidence in himself, individually and relationally, as we hear his prayer: 

Still you hear me when I’m calling

Lord, you catch me when I’m falling

And you’ve told me who I am 

I am yours.¹  

The transformed Jean Valjean not only accepted but embraced the reality that he “belonged to God.” Women and men, wives and husbands, mothers and fathers in the American Families of Faith project allowed us onto their sacred ground by sharing many of the experiences through which they came to belong to God. Sometimes these positive transformations came by small and simple means that yielded great things in time. 

In other cases, tragedy or transcendence erupted in “one significant moment,” while in other cases, life seemed to offer both types of transformation—the gradual and the sudden. What interests us most as family scholars, however, is that not only individuals but also family relationships were elevated. Perhaps most importantly, these transformations helped these families become sufficiently “exemplary” that their respective clergy told us, “These are the families you will want to study and learn from.” They were right.

 We have learned that when we examine the most exemplary marriages in America, we find that most were not always that way. The individual and marital transformations these couples experienced—some gradual and some sudden, some beautiful and some bitter—helped forge marriages that not only survived the fire but were refined by it. 

We also learn that if even the most enduring and successful marriages and families often had humble beginnings before transformation, then there is divine hope for the rest of us.

Note:

(1) Schönberg, Claude-Michel. (1980). “Who Am I?” [Song]. Les Misérables (1987 Original Broadway Cast Recording) [Album]. Decca U.S.

The post How Faith Transforms Relationships: A Journey of Personal and Relational Change appeared first on Public Square Magazine.

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This is the 7th article in our Peacemaking Series. The previous article: The Complex Art of Christian Kindness: Building Bridges

I don’t agree, but I’m not saying anything. 

I’m going to keep my opinion to myself. I don’t want to rock the boat. I’m just trying to avoid contention; I don’t want to argue or start a fight. I want to maintain the peace, get along, and play well with others. If I say something, it’s a party foul: nobody likes a party-pooper, buzzkill, debbie-downer, wet blanket, tight-wad, stickler, contrarian, Nazi, one-upper, smart-aleck, know-it-all, skeptic, cynic, nay-sayer, zealot, fanatic, troublemaker, right-winger, left-winger, fence-sitter anyways! There’s a lot of pressure to choose a side and be a team player. It takes less effort to go with the flow, blend in, keep my head down, and roll with the punches. Right now, I’m being selfish: I need to let others have their turn. It’s important to listen to those you disagree with, be open-minded, and have diversity of thought. If things get out of hand, then the system will correct itself. Plus, it’s not like they’d listen anyways…right?

There are so many “good” reasons to stay quiet.

Many haven’t had effective communication patterns modeled for them. Online, clickbait writing and algorithms tend to exploit extreme opinions and communication tactics, promoting the most extreme and loudest “shouted” opinions because it maximizes engagement. For the same reasons, so many movie conflicts get “resolved” by shouting matches, fist-fights, gun-fights, building smashings, battles, death, and war. Not to say these problems are new; they’re only the most recent evolution in negative gossip and tall tales. We are saturated with extreme portrayals of what disagreements can lead to.

But disagreeing is so important. I’m sure we’ve all felt the crushing blow of accountability when hearing variations of the quote, “Bad men need no better opportunity than when good men look on and do nothing” (Mill). But realistically, not all disagreements are good versus evil; rather, they distinguish among variants of “good, better, best” (Oaks). Unilaterally shared information, collaboration, and perceptive participation are necessary in resolving such issues. 

The seventh of its kind, the following article is a compilation of research used when creating a video for The Skyline Institute’s playful yet informative videos on conflict resolution called the Peacemaking series. This month’s video, “Disagreements Bring Balance,” teaches the value of and tactics for voicing one’s opinion, even when disagreeing.

Our intent is to help people embrace vocal disagreement through an empathetic framework that can align actions with beliefs. There are several contributing factors affecting one’s ability to disagree effectively, such as personality, emotions, and verbal tactics.

What Makes Me So Special?

It is clear our genetics––as much as how we were raised––have a significant influence on our personalities. Psychologists often use the Big Five personality traits—or Five Factor Model (FFM)—to describe our natural tendencies. The traits are Openness (to new experiences), Conscientiousness, Extraversion, Agreeableness, and Neuroticism—often remembered by the acronym OCEAN. For our purposes, Agreeableness is most relevant. Agreeableness describes the tendency to be compassionate, cooperative, and trusting in social interactions. Individuals high in agreeableness are typically described as friendly, patient, and often prioritizing the needs of others––seeking to maintain positive relationships. Personalities oriented toward agreeableness are just going to have a harder time finding the internal motivation to disagree. Those who score low in agreeableness (or high in disagreeableness, depending on how you wish to phrase it) will find the motivation to disagree easier. However, they will find it harder than agreeable people to express their disagreements in a socially effective way.

Consider the irony of staying silent because of wanting to respect and not contradict someone else’s opinion. It’s almost as if saying, Their opinion is important, they should share it, and I should listen to it. In fact, everyone’s opinion is important, everyone should share, and we all should listen. Except for my opinion, I will not share it, and therefore, no one can listen to it. When stated in this way, the illogic is exposed. 

As an example of this same sort of illogic, one co-author of this current video works as a mental health professional at an OCD clinic and interacts with clients who have determined they are unworthy of God’s forgiveness, often diagnosed as scrupulosity. When he asks them, “Who is God willing to forgive?” They reply, “Well, everyone.” He then, smiling, gently asks them, “So what makes you so special?” To which they often chuckle, recognizing their own mistaken perception of themself. So for those of us who don’t share our opinions out loud for fear of whatever reason, consider: What makes me so special that I’m the only exception to the rule ‘every voice matters’, or ‘two heads are better than one’? We invite you to consider yourself responsible for voicing your perspective; every voice matters.

Brene Brown’s research on these ideas clarifies the power of vulnerability. Vulnerability is a social currency that strengthens and deepens relationships. Relationships die when only one side is vulnerable. Internally, if I consistently diminish and disregard my own voice by not sharing my opinions out loud, I reinforce a negative perception of my own thoughts and ideas or a negative perception of other people’s opinions about my thoughts and ideas; and, repetitive silence can lead to resentment and emotion bottling. Externally, it will eventually impact my relationships with others “because, as it turns out, we can’t practice compassion with other people if we can’t treat ourselves kindly” (Brown). Instantly obliging without voicing one’s opinion excludes the other participants from the opportunity of increased perspective and possible collaboration (to be explored more in an upcoming article). Intrapersonally and interpersonally, a deep sense of connection can only come from authenticity: letting go of who one thinks they should be in order to be who they are. The principle of sharing isn’t just for kindergarten. To truly connect with others, we also have to share our honest thoughts and feelings—starting with ourselves.

Some might not share because they think other people aren’t worthy of their opinion. It’s worth considering whether that reluctance comes from a place of insecurity masked as arrogance—often, what looks like detachment is a quiet need for compassion.

Tactics for Assertive Communication

With motivation lined up inside of an empathy-oriented framework that is mutual empathy toward self and others, we can move on to verbal strategies that help structure disagreements effectively. Last month, we highlighted the importance of curiosity—like asking questions and restating the opposing view before expressing disagreement. This month, we share tools for expressing disagreement. These help foster “emotional safety” in our relationships.

Assertive communication clearly states personal needs with consideration for the needs of others. This is in contrast to passive or aggressive communication. Passive communication is preoccupied with the needs of others, inappropriately apologetic, and timid or silent. Aggressive communication focuses only on personal needs, often with an intensity, blame, or shame at the expense of others. Then, of course, there is that toxic cocktail of passive-aggressive communication that shames others while never clearly expressing personal needs. Just like other problems, the best way to address passive-aggression from others is not to ignore it (that would be passive), or by attacking it head-on (that’s aggressive), but by 1. keeping emotions in check, 2. directly addressing the negative behavior, and 3. asking direct questions. For example, you might say calmly, “It looked to me like you rolled your eyes. That makes me feel small and disrespected. I think I’ve upset you—do you want to talk about it?” This is what assertive language reads like; it clearly states personal needs; it is unambiguous and addresses the actual issue (which is not eye-rolling); and, it creates space for them to express their needs and feelings; also, it doesn’t force a conversation. However, even if the language is assertive, but the emotion is uncontrolled, then the communication is no longer assertive: the emotional intensity tips it into aggressive communication. The manner of conduct and the language expressed contribute to the quality of communication, whether it’s aggressive, passive, passive-aggressive, or assertive. 

Communication that is couched in personal experience doesn’t shift blame and direct anger toward other people. Instead, it focuses on personal feelings and personal perceptions of the situation. The Gottmans––marriage relationship experts––recommend using “I statements” or “I language” as a technique for verbally structuring disagreements. Begin any statement with an “I,” and make sure what follows is factual information from your own perspective. For example, an “I think…”, “I feel…”, or “I noticed…” are all particularly good ways to generate a “soft start” in a disagreement. This isn’t an excuse to say something like, “I think you waste your time on video games.” That’s still blaming and shaming the other person. Instead, describing without placing judgment, like “I’m worried you’re spending too much of your time on video games,” would be way better. Better yet, adding “… and I think it could be affecting your grades and relationships. I want to see you succeed and spend more time with you myself. Can you help me understand this from your perspective?” The real concern is addressed, vulnerability is shared, and an abundance of space has been created for the other person to share their feelings. There’s a chance the person could be wasting their time, but the latter conversation could foster an environment for the next Shigeru Miyamoto. 

Lastly, we offer the tool of talking in parts as a way of exploring and giving voice to the complex array of emotional nuances inside of oneself, especially when in a conflict. This technique draws from therapeutic models like Internal Family Systems (IFS), which recognize that we often have multiple internal perspectives. “Part of me wants to, but another part of me doesn’t.” One of the benefits is that there’s no limit to how many parts of you there are; “Part of me feels angry, but part of me gets where you’re coming from, and another part of me doesn’t want me to admit that.”

Closing Exercises

As our last exercise, let’s construct a “soft start” for an argument. Think of the last conflict you had or one that’s preoccupying your mind right now. Surely something came up. For the sake of exercise, let’s go with it. No scenario works out perfectly, but assuming the best, let’s apply the techniques in this article. 

1. What am I feeling? Emotions—like awkwardness, frustration, or fear—usually pass within 10–90 seconds. Instead of pushing them away, notice what you’re feeling and name it. Then choose how to respond. For the sake of the exercise, name the emotion, and accept it. Whether it sticks around depends on how we react to it, our thoughts, and our actions. So, what am I gonna do? Let’s decide to say something—which might not be appropriate for every situation (more on that in a future article), but for the sake of the exercise, let’s play it out in our mind.

2. What questions should I ask? Find my curiosity. Foster a feeling of goodwill. Ask as many clarifying questions as necessary. Do not try to trap or blame, seek understanding. For the sake of the exercise, think of at least 2-3 questions that could help or would have helped.

3. What is their perspective? Restate their perspective for them to hear in a way with which they would be completely satisfied and wholeheartedly agree. It is a generous and compassionate perspective of the other person, not some reduced characterization or strawman. We must steelman their argument and maybe even take the time to consider, Do I really disagree? At the very least, what do we agree on? Vocalize what you agree on. For the sake of the exercise, restate their opinion in the best version you can consider.

4. Share my perspective. Use assertive language. State actual needs and feelings. Use “I statements” or talk in “parts” to help. Avoid shame, and seek the deeper connection your vulnerability has enabled. For the sake of the exercise, structure an example of using at least one “I statement” and one talking in “parts”.

Depending on the situation, these steps may not always happen in the same order. But generally, understanding the other person (Step 3) follows curiosity (Step 2). And, Step 4 often clarifies Step 1 as we speak out loud.

May you find belonging and a deeper connection, and make more peace within yourself and your relationships.

The Peacemaking Series

You can view the rest of the videos in the Peacemaking Series HERE on YouTube. Each month, a companion article is released with new tools and insights. Next month’s topic is Forgiveness. To explore more articles by The Skyline Institute published in Public Square Magazine, visit us HERE. You’ll also find our original research supporting The Family Proclamation, along with videos and podcasts, at TheFamilyProclamation.org. Follow us on social media for more.

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