From PlayGrounds to Psychwardsಮಾದರಿ

Day 1: Living Out Our Vows

When we said “I do,” we didn’t know how much those two words would be tested. No one stands at the altar thinking about psychiatric hospitals, NICU stays, depression, or the kinds of storms that shake a marriage down to its foundation. But twelve years ago, that’s exactly where we found ourselves.

After Amanda gave birth prematurely to our son, Asher, postpartum psychosis hit fast and unexpectedly. One moment we were celebrating a new baby; the next, our world was unraveling. She was impulsive, confused, hurting, and terrified. And I (Colby) was suddenly thrust into a role I never imagined, fighting for my wife when she couldn’t fight for herself.

Marriage vows sound beautiful on your wedding day: for better or worse, in sickness and in health.

But when “worse” actually arrives… when “sickness” becomes more than a metaphor… that’s where marriage is either strengthened or shaken.

During that year and a half, I lost my wife for a time, and she lost herself. There were days filled with fear, anger, and exhaustion. Days when walking away would have been easier than doing the hard work of staying. Days when the marriage didn’t feel fair, balanced, or romantic. Days when choosing love felt like an act of obedience, not emotion.

But here’s what we learned:

Sometimes love isn’t a feeling. It’s a decision you make on the days you least feel like making it.

Staying doesn’t mean staying comfortable.

Staying means staying committed.

It means choosing patience when your spouse is struggling.

Choosing compassion when you’re exhausted.

Choosing honesty instead of silence.

Choosing grace instead of bitterness.

Our marriage didn’t survive because we were strong. It survived because when everything was falling apart, we chose each other. We chose counseling. We chose prayer. We chose to stay in the fight even when the fight was messy. And day by day, God used our commitment, even our weak, shaky commitment, to rebuild something stronger than what we had before.

If your marriage is walking through a hard season, hear this:

Staying doesn’t mean you feel nothing; it means you refuse to give up.

With God, even broken things can be rebuilt. Even dry seasons can bloom again.

And even the hardest chapter can become the testimony that strengthens the rest of your story.

Reflection Questions:

Where is God asking you to “stay”, to show up with commitment, grace, or patience, even when it feels difficult?