What does mutual trust look like in a Christian marriage?
Amy and I never expected to embrace the idea of biblical submission. But two years into following Christ, we’ve found something surprising—freedom, purpose, and a shared rhythm of grace.
Last time, I shared how Amy’s trust crowns my leadership. As we’ve embraced Christianity, that trust has taken us beyond marriage, into something bigger.
This goes beyond husbands and wives—it’s about the nature of all godly leadership.
Jesus Himself submitted to the Father—not because He was in any way lesser in nature or value, but because He trusted Him completely and was committed to their shared purpose.
Philippians 2:6-8—“…who, though he was in the form of God, did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, but emptied himself, by taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men. And being found in human form, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross.”
Paul makes it clear that Jesus, fully equal with God, submitted not out of passivity but with purpose. His obedience wasn’t weakness—it was power. It enacted the Father’s will and gave it visible form through self-giving love.
In marriage, I believe something similar happens. Amy’s trust in me doesn’t diminish her equal worth, dignity, or agency—it elevates us both into the roles we’ve embraced. And in turn, my love isn’t about superiority or control—it’s about being held to the standard of Christ’s sacrifice.
Amy and I chose this understanding of marriage as we have grown in our faith. Our path to embracing this biblical understanding wasn’t a straight line.
We didn’t come to Colossians 3:18-19 from a traditional playbook. Growing up in the Unitarian Universalist church, we both sought to rebel against the patriarchy and against gender norms. I used to love wearing pink and I still have a preference for slightly feminine Jackie O-styled sunglasses; Amy’s the one with the toolbox, fixing things. I cook for the family, while she’s the nerd who keeps our finances in check.
With budgeting, her detail-oriented mind takes the reins, and I’m the free spirit following her cues. It’s worked because it plays to our strengths.
But in the last two years, as we’ve become Christians and started studying the Bible, we’ve started aligning ourselves to God’s will—including this idea of me leading and Amy submitting. Her submission doesn’t make me the boss—it makes me accountable.
I’ve felt her trust shift me from coasting to leading, not because I demanded it, but because she offered it. When we adopted Eliot the kitten, I rushed it, and initially, she was perturbed—but her choice to back me anyway gave my leadership weight. That faith paid off, and we’re all so thankful to have Eliot as part of our family now.
But stepping into leadership wasn’t a power grab—it was a painful realization that I’d been absent, even when I thought I was being easygoing or supportive. The call to lead in love and sacrifice isn’t a reward for showing up late—it’s a call to grow. Amy’s trust made me see we’d been stuck in a quiet collapse: her version of equality had become overfunctioning, mine under-responsible.
We didn’t shift to me carrying most of it as some eternal ideal—we did it to break an imbalance and find true mutuality.
Ephesians 5:20-21—“giving thanks always and for everything to God the Father in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, submitting to one another out of reverence for Christ.”
Our approach doesn’t mean I make unilateral decisions or have veto power. We still work toward consensus on important matters, and Amy’s voice carries equal weight. When decorating our home, I gave her 51% to my 49%—it matters more to her, so I was happy to let her lead there.
My leadership isn’t about imposing my will but about taking responsibility for our mutual flourishing. Sometimes that means deferring to her wisdom and recognizing when her perspective should prevail.
This realignment hasn’t just reshaped my role—it’s transformed us both, and when I asked Amy to share her experience, she said:
“The freedom from traditional gender roles was great in some senses, but I used to feel I had to do it all—earn the primary income, fix everything, plan for everything, decide everything. It was exhausting.
Putting Bryan in charge of our family was a huge relief! We decided just as I have 51% control over the decor in our home, he has 51% control over everything else. I know he takes it seriously and considers the decisions he makes carefully because we all have to live with the consequences.
This change in our dynamic has forced him to step up into a more active role in our marriage and family. I feel like we are sharing the load equally now. Everyone needs a purpose, we all need meaning to our lives.
God has given Bryan purpose, drive, and a standard to live up to. It is beautiful to see how he is growing as he grows closer to Christ. I feel more seen, cherished, and taken care of in this new dynamic. I don’t feel like I have given anything up, besides the burden of stress!”
What Amy calls a ‘huge relief’ I see as her active choice to lean into our shared rhythm—a choice that carries more weight than any decision I make.
Amy’s shift isn’t just about letting me lead—it’s freed her to shine in her own gifts, making her trust the heartbeat of our shared calling. She’s not less herself; she’s more.
If leadership in marriage is a responsibility, not a privilege, then her trust is what makes it meaningful.
1 Peter 4:10—“As each has received a gift, use it to serve one another, as good stewards of God’s varied grace.”
That service shapes my role—her trust holds me accountable, calls me to a higher standard, and reinforces that leadership is not about getting my way but about stewarding our marriage well. Submission isn’t weakness—it’s a powerful act of faith challenging me to lead with humility, wisdom, and love.
That’s the paradox: her trust doesn’t erase her—it authorizes me, and together we’re finding our rhythm that feels authentic to us.
As we continue our faith journey, I expect our understanding of these principles will deepen and mature, but this foundation has already transformed our marriage in profound ways.
Final Thought:
The world says authority is about power. Scripture says it’s about responsibility.
The world sees submission as loss. Scripture sees it as strength.
My wife isn’t beneath me—she is my crown, giving weight to my role under grace. And that means my leadership isn’t about ruling—it’s about being worthy of the crown she bestows.
A marriage shaped by Colossians 3:18-19 isn’t about authority in the world’s sense. It’s about two people lifting each other up, reflecting Christ and the church, walking in trust instead of competition.
