The Hardest Year of Our Marriage

Someone recently asked me what the hardest year of our marriage was.

If someone had asked me that a year ago, I would have quickly said, 1993–1998! And probably laughed.

Those years were so hard. They shaped us and molded us into who we are today. I had so much growing up to do, and God graciously placed a pivotal mentor in my life who helped me become the Proverbs 31 woman I am today.

But when that question was recently posed to me again, my answer surprised even me.

In all vulnerability, I said, "This year. 2026."

This has been the most trying, difficult, stretching, emotional year of our marriage.

I'll be honest—there was a part of me that didn't even want to say that out loud.

After all, this is what we do for a living. We teach marriages. We coach couples. We stand on stages and tell people that hope is possible. I found myself thinking, Shannan, you can't have anything negative to say. You should have it all together. You should be employing every tool you dish out to everyone else.

I sat with those thoughts for a few minutes.

Then I decided that if someone wants to unfollow us because I'm honest, then there's the door.

Because just because this is my profession doesn't mean I'm not still human.

Does the personal trainer ever overindulge in a gallon of ice cream? Do professional athletes ever struggle to get up every morning to train? What about the cardiothoracic surgeon who can't quit smoking?

I say all of that to remind us of our humanity.

We are all flawed people in desperate need of a Savior.

When I remember that about myself, it's easier to remember it about Javier too.

And I believe that when we begin seeing our spouse through that lens—not as the enemy, but as another imperfect person whom God is still shaping—we're in a much better position to offer grace, mercy, and forgiveness.

2026 has tested me in ways I never wanted to be tested. I never signed up to walk through this valley.

But here I am.

Here we are.

Getting through a tough season of marriage.

There have been some incredible highs and some painful lows. There were moments when I chose to stay angry instead of forgiving. Moments when we stayed quiet instead of communicating. We certainly haven't done it all well.

But we stand firm on our covenant.

There is no back door.

I'm all in.

I'm going to fight for his heart, and he's going to fight for mine.

That's what covenant looks like.

Not perfection.

Not pretending.

Not having all the answers.

Just two imperfect people choosing, over and over again, to honor the promise they made before God.

If you're walking through a difficult season too, let me remind you of something.

A hard season doesn't mean your marriage is failing.

It means you're human.

Keep choosing each other.

Keep extending grace.

Keep communicating, even when it's hard.

Keep fighting for your marriage instead of against each other.

The valleys aren't where marriages are destroyed.

More often than not, they're where marriages are refined.

And by God's grace, we'll keep walking through this one—together.