Stop Withholding What Is Already in Your Hands

It's a typical Thursday afternoon in the summer of 2025. I step outside my office in Harvard Square and head to my usual spot along the Charles River. The campus is lively and beautiful this time of the year. Little birds and ducks gather by the water, and the sunlight cuts through the trees just right.

It's in this quiet moment that a thought settles on my heart. It feels almost too simple at first, but the longer I sit with it, the more weight it carries.

Most of what a marriage needs to grow, to heal, and to thrive is not complicated. It's not expensive. It's not locked behind professional counseling sessions, weekend retreats, or perfect communication frameworks, although all of these are very important.

In fact, most couples already know what to do.

The real issue isn't ignorance. It's withholding.

At the core of many marital struggles is a quiet decision to withhold something already within our power to give.

Affection. Affirmation. Emotional presence. Prayer. Gentle words. Physical intimacy. Encouragement. Initiation. You fill in the blanks.

Scripture speaks directly to this posture:

Love withheld, even subtly, creates distance. Over time, that distance hardens into coldness, resentment, and discouragement.

What makes this especially painful is that most of us aren't confused about what our spouse needs. If we're honest, truly honest, we can usually name two or three things right now that would immediately warm the atmosphere of our home.

We know what would help, at the minimum.

We just hesitate to do it.

Consider a husband who comes home from work exhausted. His wife greets him at the door, clearly needing connection after a long day alone with the kids. She doesn't ask for much. Just a few minutes of presence. Eye contact. A question about her day.

He sees it. He knows what she needs. But he's tired. He's been "on" all day. So he gives a distracted greeting, heads to his phone, and tells himself he'll connect with her later.

Later comes. The kids are finally in bed. She sits down next to him on the couch, reaching for conversation again. But now he's nursing a quiet resentment. She didn't acknowledge how hard he worked today. She didn't seem grateful that he provided. So he keeps his responses short. Guarded.

She feels the coldness. She wanted to share about a struggle with one of the kids, but now it doesn't feel safe. So she withdraws too. Goes to bed early. Says she's just tired.

Both of them had something to give. Neither gave it. And the gap between them widened, not because they lacked love, but because they withheld what love required in that moment.

This happens every day in countless homes. Not dramatic. Not catastrophic. Just... withheld.

And over time, those small withheld moments accumulate into emotional, physical, and spiritual distance that feels impossible to bridge.

Why do we withhold?

Rarely because we cannot give. More often because our pride stands in the way.

We tell ourselves stories:

Yet Scripture calls us to a radically different standard:

Pride keeps score. Love initiates.

When pride governs a marriage, both spouses wait for the other to move first. Each one nursing wounds. Each one feeling justified in their withdrawal.

When love governs a marriage, someone chooses to go first. Even when it feels undeserved. Even when it's inconvenient. Even when they're afraid it won't be reciprocated.

That willingness to move first, to give when you don't feel like giving, is not weakness. It's the strength that holds marriages together.

Many couples believe they need more money, more vacations, more time away, or fewer responsibilities. But beneath almost every external desire is an internal and philosophical need.

A vacation often represents a longing for rest, attention, or feeling valued.

A date night often represents a hunger for connection and reassurance.

A difficult conversation often reveals a deep need to be understood and seen.

When we fixate on the external solution while neglecting the internal need, frustration grows. We spend money on trips that don't fix anything. We plan elaborate dates that feel hollow. We have surface conversations that leave both people feeling more alone.

But when we address the heart need directly, many "problems" lose their power.

Sometimes what looks like a need for counseling is actually a need for consistent prayer together.

Sometimes what feels like irreconcilable differences is actually unspoken hurt that needs acknowledgment.

Sometimes what seems like incompatibility is just two people who have stopped choosing each other in the small moments.

If your ultimate goal is a thriving marriage, ask yourself this question without excuses or qualifications:

What can I do right now that would strengthen my spouse?

Not someday. Not after they apologize. Not when circumstances improve. Not after counseling.

Right now.

If you take ten quiet minutes and listen honestly to your own heart, answers will come. They almost always do.

A kind word spoken without sarcasm. A sincere affirmation that costs you nothing but pride. A prayer offered aloud over your spouse. A gentle touch when you'd rather keep distance. An apology without justification or deflection. Physical intimacy initiated when it would be easier to avoid.

These aren't grand gestures. They're acts of obedience to love.

And small acts of obedience often unlock more healing than long, exhausting conversations ever could.

There's a lie we often believe: that if we give too much, we lose power in the relationship. That if we're the one always initiating, always serving, always extending grace, we'll be taken advantage of.

The Bible teaches the opposite:

Withholding weakens the soul. It breeds bitterness, cynicism, and isolation.

Giving freely strengthens it. It cultivates generosity, compassion, and spiritual vitality.

Those who open their hands in marriage, who give even when it's not reciprocated immediately, often discover something remarkable: many of the issues they feared begin to resolve themselves.

Emotional safety returns. Softness follows hardness. Trust begins to rebuild. The atmosphere shifts.

Not because you manipulated the outcome, but because you stopped withholding what love required.

At Called to Marriage, we believe marriage is sustained not by negotiation or control, but by covenantal faithfulness before God.

When we stop asking, "What am I owed?" and start asking, "What has God entrusted to me to give?", marriages transform.

Christ did not wait for us to deserve His love before He gave Himself. He certainly didn't withhold until we got our act together. He moved first.

That posture, applied to marriage, changes everything.

It means you don't wait for your spouse to earn your affection. You give it freely.

You don't withhold prayer until they become more spiritual. You pray for them and with them now.

You don't hold back physical intimacy as punishment or leverage. You offer it as a gift of covenant love.

You don't wait for them to apologize before you soften. You choose humility first.

This is not about being a doormat. It's about being Christlike. And there's a vast difference between the two. I know, the world and its ways make us out to be fools. We hear all the different voices in our head, calling us to stand ten toes down and not be pushovers. Hear me out, the world is fallen, and so are its ways.

Here's what many people miss: withholding actually keeps you in bondage.

When you withhold affection, you're the one walking around guarded and tense.

When you withhold words of affirmation, you're the one harboring bitterness.

When you withhold forgiveness, you're the one carrying the weight of unforgiveness.

But when you give freely, you walk in freedom. Your hands are open. Your heart is light. You seldom look back with many regrets. You've done what love required, and the outcome is no longer your burden to control.

You're free.

If this message stirred something in you, don't let it pass without action.

Speak the words you've been withholding. Offer the prayer you've delayed. Extend the affection you've kept guarded. Initiate the conversation you've avoided.

Do it today. Not perfectly. Just sincerely.

And if you're longing to build a marriage rooted in obedience, humility, and spiritual maturity, we invite you into the Called Community. You're not meant to figure this out alone. We walk alongside couples who want to build marriages that honor God, strengthen each other, and reflect covenant love to a watching world.

If this resonated with you, let us know. Write a comment, we read and pray for those who do. Share it with someone who needs to hear it. And most importantly, act on what the Spirit is prompting you to do in your own marriage.

Don't withhold what love is calling you to give.

Give freely.

And watch what God restores.