When a Christian
Is Married to a NonChristian

It was love at first sight. Then we spoke to each other
and things got better.

My husband and I met at a house-warming party. His co-worker invited him, and my closest friend invited me. He asked me to show him how to a play a card game; I tried, amidst about fifty people, laughter, and loud music. He asked for my phone number, and from that day, we became inseparable. He took me to movies, we ate out, visited friends, went for walks, talked and laughed together. He showed me how to catch fish. He was steadfast, funny, smart, adventurous and always supportive of my dreams. We became best friends.

A year and a half later, we had a beautiful marriage ceremony on a bridge with our families and close friends witnessing our solemn commitment to love and cherish each other, till death do us part.

Was it happily ever after?

Within a few years, we both worked in high-paying jobs, we had nice clothes, went on trips, we bought our first home and a new vehicle. We had everything, yet, I felt a gnawing hollowness inside of me.

Years earlier, in high school, a girl had told me about Jesus dying for my sins. I prayed with her, but it didn’t take root. Perhaps the Lord had other plans…

One day, after my husband and I had been married for about five years, a co-worker and I were having lunch when she pulled out her bible and asked me, “Have you ever heard of Jesus?” At that instant, I was Saul on the Road to Damascus. The Lord bowled me over with His Spirit and I wept.

“Yes, but I forgot about Him,” I said. I prayed for forgiveness, and invited Him to live in my heart. I could not contain all the joy the Lord gave me. My friend gave me a Bible, and I carried it around with me. I read it on the bus to work and during coffee breaks. I took it to social gatherings on weekends, and told everyone the exciting things I was learning about God.

I fully expected the Lord to send me to Bible College for equipping. I wanted to go to the far reaches of the world, within the boundaries of war, poverty and famine.

God was at work around me. All of my five siblings became Christians within a short period; my husband, however, did not. I was a Christian married to a non-Christian. From my husband’s perspective, I had become a completely different person. I was no longer the fun-loving girl he had married. Not only that, but I made sure to tell my husband all the wrong things he was doing. Becoming a Christian put a strain on my marriage. I fell in love with God and out of love with my husband. My parents were divorced; could we be headed that way?

During the early years, I thought all the people at church were perfect, I was on my way to becoming perfect, and my husband wasn’t even trying. Adding to this myth was the segregation I experienced. A Christian married to a non-Christian often wasn't included in the social circle of the church members. Seldom did anyone invite my whole family out. After years of friendship, one woman finally invited all of us over for dinner. Everyone enjoyed the meal and laughed heartily while playing games together. She told me soon afterward that despite the good time, she would not encourage further friendship. She felt somehow, the unbeliever would bring corruption to her family. My closest friendships continued to be limited to women in the same situation.

Bit by bit, God impressed on my heart several things for me to put into practice. First, I was to stay with my husband if he was willing to live with me. I discovered that God hates divorce. Even when the Christian is married to a non-Christian.

Could I be less obnoxious about my faith? I would try. Whenever I became over-zealous about a point and wanted to argue, I would go to my prayer closet and ask God for self-control. I was to turn off the critic and cease telling my husband what he should be doing. I had been acting like the Holy Spirit and authority over my husband; not his wife which is my rightful place.

The Lord also impressed upon me to respect my husband, even when he was not around. Oftentimes, the Bible studies and prayer groups that I attended digressed into complaining sessions. But I kept remembering the husband of the Proverbs thirty-one woman. He was praised in the city gates. That is what I was to do as well—spread the word about all the right things my husband did.

I was to build my home, not destroy it. Proverbs describes the foolish woman as someone who destroys her home with her own hands. My role was to make our home a welcoming sanctuary; to fill it with the sweet fragrance of prayer and good food.

I also learned that it was okay to love my husband unreservedly. Many believers married to those yet to believe, feel that loving their spouse means friendship with the world and the devil, enemies of Christ. Rather, all Christians are commanded to love as an act of obedience to God as listed in 1 Corinthians.

As I obeyed God and did these things, a strange thing happened. I fell in love with my husband again. I began to see all the great things about him that drew me to him in the first place. I realized he was still steadfast, funny, smart, adventurous and supportive of my dreams. He became my best friend again.

God brought me to the place where I accepted my marriage as His calling for my life. I finally experienced freedom and joy as never before. I was able to nurture our children in the faith, and enjoy church activities. I worked on keeping my priorities straight, and not neglecting my husband. I learned to check with him before taking on any assignments. Together, we would evaluate how things were going and if any changes were necessary.

I prayed and longed for my beloved’s salvation. There were low points of despair. Sometimes I gave up praying. It finally became apparent to me that I could not save my husband, no matter how much I plotted, coerced, no matter how good I was, or how much I prayed. I became a broken woman.

Several years ago, a new Pastor and his wife made a point of inviting my family over regularly. They were relaxed and accepting. My husband was able to see first-hand what being a Christian husband and father was all about—the good and the bad; no one was perfect. This ended up working for good. I believe their friendship, coupled with my obedience (and it was never perfect), removed stumbling blocks from my husband’s path. In the fullness of God’s timing, my husband took our family to church. He is a believer on his own faith journey now.

This year we celebrated our twenty-fifth wedding anniversary. Our marriage is a work of God.

Recently, while studying the book of Luke, the Lord impressed on my heart the image of Jesus leaving the ninety-nine sheep to seek the one stray. God had sent me somewhere, after all. He loved my husband so much, that he sent me to the far reaches of my heart and stretched me beyond the boundaries of my abilities, to a place of brokenness—so His grace could shine through the cracks.

D.F.Bentley, lives in Alberta, Canada,
with her family. She enjoys hiking,
downhill skiing and is writing a novel.