When two leaders live under one roof, it can be powerful. It’s also complex. After 38 years, Larry and I have a little experience in this. This is not our first rodeo.
Both of us carry significant responsibility. We each have strong convictions, instincts, and opinions shaped by decades of calling and leadership. We know how to make decisions. We know how to hold ground. We know how to lead.
And then… we come home.
Over the years, we have learned, sometimes the hard way, that leadership skills do not automatically translate into relational health. In fact, the very strengths that make you effective in public can create friction in private.
If you’ve been leading together for any length of time, you understand this tension.
Here are five things that have mattered most for us.
1. You must choose connection over being right.
Two leaders can easily become two debaters. You both know how to make a point, defend an idea and win a room. But marriage is not a room to win.
We have learned that even when one of us is technically right, winning an argument at the expense of connection always costs more than it gives. Connection requires humility. It requires listening past the words to the heart beneath them. It requires the willingness to say, “Help me understand you,” instead of, “Let me correct you.”
Being right feeds the ego.
Staying connected builds intimacy.
Larry and I are one flesh, but we are not identical people. We have different opinions. We do not share all the same hobbies. We do not interpret every single Scripture nuance the same way. There have even been seasons where we have voted differently in certain elections. And over the years, we have discovered how easy it is to let a debate over something relatively small spill over and affect the atmosphere of our home. We cannot count the number of times a “minor” disagreement threatened to create major distance.
So we have learned to ask ourselves a simple question: Is this worth disrupting our closeness?
In this season of our lives, we value connection more than winning. And that shift has changed everything.
2. Remember You Are Spouses Before You Are Leaders
This one took maturity to learn, and I will say it plainly: I will go to the wall for this one.
I have noticed that many leaders, especially those formed in earlier ministry cultures, were taught not only that God comes first, but that “the call” comes next — sometimes even before the covenant at home.
I do not believe that.
When both people carry calling, it is easy to let leadership habits follow you home. To analyze. To instruct. To problem-solve. To offer solutions when what is really needed is presence.
But at home, your first role is not strategist. It is spouse. A covenant partner. A lover. Not a supervisor, manager, or boss.
Your husband or wife does not need to feel managed. They need to feel known.
They need someone who listens without immediately fixing. Someone who cares without evaluating. Someone who can say, “Tell me what that felt like,” instead of, “Here’s what you should have done.”
There is a time to lead. There is a time to advise. There is a time to speak truth. But there is also a sacred space where two people lay down their titles and simply love one another.
Leadership is powerful.
But partnership is holy.
This one has required intentionality for me. I tend to wake up strategizing. My mind is always building, solving, refining. And while Larry deeply respects my mind and affirms it often, what he needs most from me is not strategy. It is love. And learning to shift from leader to lover has been one of the most important disciplines of our marriage.
There are many people he can strategize with.There is only one person he lays his head beside and lets his guard down with.
3. The marriage must matter more than the ministry.
When both people carry calling, the temptation is subtle. The platform is visible. The marriage is private. And what is visible often feels more urgent. But what is private is what sustains you.
When things are not in proper order at home, everything else becomes harder. We have lived through seasons when ministry received more attention than our marriage, and I can tell you plainly that those were some of the most painful stretches of our lives. I remember being invited to teach at a marriage conference during one of those seasons. We quietly declined. We knew we were not in a place to speak publicly about something we were still working through privately. There was no moral failure or scandal. We were simply out of order in our priorities and carrying wounds that needed tending. I try not to live with regrets, but if there is anything I would do differently, it would be guarding our private world sooner and more fiercely.
We have learned that if something is not working at home, no amount of public fruit can compensate for that quiet fracture. Larry and I have often said, “If it’s not working at home, don’t export it.”
Your first ministry is not your platform. It is the covenant under your roof.
When the marriage is strong, the ministry flows from overflow instead of depletion.
4. Do your own inner work.
Leadership amplifies what is unresolved.
If you struggle with insecurity, it will surface.
If you struggle with control, it will show up.
If you struggle with pride, it will eventually find a stage.
Two leaders under one roof means two sets of strengths and two sets of weaknesses.
We have both learned that loving each other well requires personal growth. Therapy. Reflection. Apologies. Course correction. Real change.
You cannot demand maturity from your spouse that you are unwilling to pursue yourself.
Healthy leadership begins with honest self-examination.
Larry and I have never hidden the fact that we have gone to therapy — separately and together — and we still do. It has done a world of good for us, and we highly recommend it.
Even if your marriage feels strong, therapy can serve as a meaningful “tune-up,” a safe place to refine communication and address blind spots before they become fractures.
And just to be clear, I’m talking about therapy with a licensed professional counselor. There is no shame in seeking wise, qualified help. In fact, for leaders especially, it is often one of the most responsible choices you can make.
5. Guard the softness.
The longer you lead, the easier it is to become efficient instead of tender.
Schedules are full. Problems are constant. People are demanding. Fatigue creeps in quietly.
But a marriage between leaders cannot survive on efficiency alone. It requires softness. Intentional affection. A lot of laughter. It requires relaxed moments that are not strategic or productive. Time when the world and its expectations are shut out.
For Larry and me, some of our best moments are slow, quiet Saturdays. We wake up late, linger in bed, move through the day without urgency, and simply enjoy a Sabbath together. When we can do this while traveling, away from the noise of normal life, it feels even sweeter.
It is wearying to always be the one who steps up, makes decisions, and has hard conversations. We both carry that weight most days in our work. Neither of us wants to come home and continue being “that person.” We need space to just be — not perform, not lead, not solve — but simply rest in each other’s presence.
My husband sees me in a light no one else ever will, and I see him the same way. God designed it that way.
Tenderness does not weaken leadership. It protects it.
When home is safe, the world feels lighter.
What helps your home feel like rest instead of responsibility?
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