Marriage Can Be Stormy: Check Your Anchors, Sails and Life Rafts

If life goes in waves, mine are rolling in faster and higher. In fact, I’m a bit seasick.

Weren’t we just children whom someone else worried about? Then college students, totally independent except for our parents’ money? Fast forward to marriage, careers, and kids of our own to worry about.

Weddings now fill the horizon as friends of our 20-something kids begin echoing “I do’s.”

My husband and I drove to Augusta this year to attend the wedding of the daughter of dear friends. It’s where we began life as newlyweds more than three decades ago. I couldn’t stop humming “Sunrise, sunset, swiftly flow the years.” He couldn’t stop rolling his eyes.

I flashed back to three young couples who met in Augusta: the parents of the bride, my husband and me, and one other couple. We connected as the rebels who didn’t follow the Young Marrieds Sunday School script. We played hooky from the potlucks, stayed up late playing “Nertz,” and dug deep into each other’s lives and struggles. Within three years, we all dispersed: the bride’s parents moved to Israel to run a youth hostel, the other couple transferred “up North” and began to populate the earth with boys, and we lived in Michigan and Montana before coming back to the South. Those two couples rooted back in Augusta, and we settled in Birmingham. But before our small group broke up, we left each other with a promise that turned out to be profound. We decided to simply pray for each others’ marriages. Looking back, there’s no better advice I could give these young wedding-bound women.

I was asked to speak to Elizabeth and her bridesmaids at their pre-wedding brunch. As I began, I saw the same look in these girls’ eyes that I had 30+ years earlier. A naïve determination that they’d be different, they’d get it right, because they’re more energetic, more creative, more in love.

Take notes, girls, and save it for later.

Just Give Me the Marital Navigation App

The thing that most about-to-marry girls want to hear is how to prevent the mistakes their parents and everyone else in the world have made. They want to download the GPS app to help navigate the hard times and ride the breakers back to calm waters. 

But unpredicted storms will come.

People abandon ship.

Boats sink—or get dry-docked.

So I asked these young women three questions:

  • What anchors will help you survive the storms that come to all marriages?
  • What sails will keep you on course into God’s deep, wild Kingdom and away from the shallows?
  • What’s in your life raft? Because, at some point, almost everyone lands in a dinghy bailing out doubt while trying not to drown in grief.


The storms of suffering pulled hard at our anchors. Looking back to the times when we were tempted to cut free out of fear, we realize the line held not because of our “clinging” skill but because Christ held us. Deep relationships and prayer also anchored us.

Deep Relationships

We’ve latched onto a few decades-long friendships in our uprooted life. These are the couples with whom we made memories, laughed, prayed, wept, and stayed up really late (that last one while we were still young). We figure ways to stay in touch (beyond Christmas cards) and ask the good/hard questions no one else has permission to ask. We also had the gift of older “weathered” couples who shared honestly how they navigated their own marital waters.


Hurricane-force winds of real life blew away any illusions of control we had. At those times, prayer—not rote repetition but gut-vulnerable pleading—anchored us to God’s grace, each other, and our praying friends. I often wonder how the “let’s just pray for each other’s marriages” prayers of these two other couples kept us from sinking.


The bridal bunch I spoke to are brave, world adventurers with sails set high. Most marriages start out like that, focused on the far horizon, but end up with a mortgage, 2.5 kids, three pets, soccer practices, and multiplying obligations. Couples stare at the stars and ask:

How did we get here? How did our children’s happiness become our biggest goal? When did our 401K begin to matter more than the Wild Kingdom? Will we have anything to dream (or even talk) about when the kids leave port?

It’s been a lifelong struggle for us to stay focused on the far shore. As my husband and I thought about what kept us steering out of the shallows, we thought of community, humility, and humor.


We plugged into a healthy church. Christian community kept us out of the shallows of self-focused spiritual actualization, tied us to Scripture, and continually refocused us on our destiny and destination.


We learned to never, never, never say never. As soon as we rolled our eyes and judged others, we too ended up with a used minivan. We too got sucked into some get-rich-quick and get-out-slow scheme. We too made each go-sleep-on-the-sofa mad.


I’m thankful that we can laugh at ourselves (gently and together), the screwed-up world we live in, and at past painful situations which we chose to reinterpret with more lightness. Unfortunately, we’ve gotten so good at it we have been known to laugh uncontrollably in inappropriate places, like weddings and funerals.

Life Raft

At some point, most marriages land in a life boat (perhaps bankruptcy, betrayal, disease, death, infertility, mental illness, children stress, trauma, prison, etc.). We’ve been in that tiny raft before. The waves of grief, doubt, and shame loomed large.

There are no formulas, quick fixes, anchors, or sails in a life raft—just hanging on.

  • We tossed overboard all unnecessary ballast (including most of the advice I gave above).
  • We clung to the truth that God loves us (even though it didn’t feel that way).
  •  We focused on the resurrected Jesus Christ as our lifeline leading to Heaven.

We repeated the truth to each other that we will see the shoreline and arrive safely home, no matter if in this world or the next.

As I finished speaking, I looked over at my two friends nodding in agreement (especially the laughing at funerals part). These were the ones who had faithfully prayed for our marriage and a big part of why I was standing here spouting these truths. So, if there was one piece of advice I’d give Elizabeth? Find those kind of friends.

I left the girls with Sir Francis Drake’s prayer, which may be more suitable to us parents, but they can tuck it away for later—because in a few “waves” they’ll be there, too.

Disturb us, Lord, when

We are too well pleased with ourselves,

When our dreams have come true

Because we have dreamed too little,

When we arrived safely

Because we sailed too close to the shore.

Disturb us, Lord, when

With the abundance of things we possess

We have lost our thirst

For the waters of life;

Having fallen in love with life,

We have ceased to dream of eternity

And in our efforts to build a new earth,

We have allowed our vision

Of the new Heaven to dim.

Disturb us, Lord, to dare more boldly,

To venture on wider seas

Where storms will show your mastery;

Where losing sight of land,

We shall find the stars.

We ask You to push back

The horizons of our hopes;

And to push into the future

In strength, courage, hope, and love.

This we ask in the name of our Captain,

Who is Jesus Christ.

Sir Francis Drake, 1577

Photo by Bill Carroll

All photos by Bill Carroll


Nancy W. Carroll is a writer, speaker/teacher, and "soul-tender" from Birmingham, AL who blogs at Really Late Bloomer. She serves as president of InSpero, Inc., a 501c3 believing in the power of creative community to bring hope and healing to our city and churches. 

All Shall Be Well

We can be assured that God’s love indeed means that all will be well, but here and now this truth must be held in faith rather than full understanding.

Julian of Norwich

A dear friend invited me to join her on a two-night silent retreat at a Benedictine monastery in December. It was perfectly timed as I was surfacing from a painful conflict with a friend and an intense season with a growing ministry. I was wrestling with realities I couldn’t control and questions that weren’t being answered.

It’s been a dry season with little sense of leading or emotion in my spiritual life—not a dark night, but perhaps a “gray afternoon of the soul.” I went on the retreat with no expectations (hence, no disappointments) but longed to feel a fresh sense of God’s presence and leading. For the friends who know us well, their first question was, did we “cheat” and chat? No, although we were given a reprieve for two of the meal times.  And we followed the advice of a friend who had been on a silent retreat, “Don’t eat raw carrots during dinner.”

We joined the rhythm of the monastery, early to bed, early to rise, simple meals, set times of prayer, and silence. I took long, quiet walks in the monastery’s hundreds of acres of woods and trails using my camera as a way to stop and see. I slept. I journaled. I listened for God. That was the hardest challenge.

God did meet me as quietly as my surroundings with two simple messages. I’ll write about the second in a coming blog.  But here is the first:

All Shall Be Well. As I walked and waited, prayed and pondered, I heard a quiet reassurance, “All shall be well.” And that one simple, but not ‘pat’ sentence, allowed me to breathe.  These words originally came from Julian of Norwich, a 14th century Christian mystic who wrote and counseled during the dark days of the Black Plague and 100-Year War. As a mystic, she longed for deeper intimacy with Christ and struggled with the big questions such as why God allowed sin in the first place and what was the fate of those who had never heard the Gospel. She never received a direct answer to her questions, except to be told that whatever God does is done in love, and therefore "that all shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of thing shall be well."

Like Julian, I too received no specific answers to my questions. No clear direction. Except to be re-directed to the truth I needed most to hear.

God is love. Therefore.

Julian wrote in her Divine Revelations“For some of us believe that God is almighty and may do all; and that He is all-wisdom and can do all; but that He is all-love, and will do all–there we fail. And it is this unknowing that most holdeth back God’s lovers, as I see it.”

But how can I live with “unknowing,” with unanswered questions and unfulfilled longings? Again the answer comes back to love. A God who chooses to create and love, a God who longs for relationship, is a God who also lives with longing.

“God and we must live with longing if love is the life we choose . . .  We accept the pain of longing, for it is also joy.”

So God has directed me in my struggles and questions. Choose love.  And choose to trust that God is loving and therefore, “All Shall Be Well”—not as some shallow platitude, but a truth which acknowledges that all manner of things may not be well at this present moment. There will be storms and dark nights and gray afternoons but, ultimately, the light will break through.

As worries or weariness take me down, breathing in the truth that “All Shall Be Well” doesn’t fix my problems, but fixes my thoughts on the One who loves. The one who proved His love for us by sending His own son to die for us.

I don’t only “breathe in” this statement but sing it out. Many artists have written songs on All Shall Be Well. My favorite version is by Andrew Peterson.

You may not have the option to go on a retreat, but pause in the middle of your busy life and consider:

What is the question you most wrestle with before God and where in your life do you most long to hear “All Shall Be Well?” Photography thanks to Bill Carroll.

Scroll to the bottom of my blogsite to comment or respond to Thanks again for reading and pondering with me and Julian. I'll post the second "message" in a few days.