Lately I’ve been thinking a lot about this season Loren and I are in. Things are getting so much better—we’re finally feeling like we might catch our breath and find our footing. But our stress levels are still high, and I started wondering…stress is known to impact the body, but how does it impact our relationships? So I dug in to see what really happens under long-term stress.
What I found was kind of crazy. When the human body lives under sustained stress, every single system pays the price. The “fight or flight” response—meant for short bursts—never really turns off. Cortisol and adrenaline stay elevated, keeping your heart rate high, your muscles tight, and your body on alert. Over time, this wears down your cardiovascular system, raises blood pressure, and increases the risk of heart problems.
The brain takes a hit too. Chronic stress can cloud memory, shorten attention spans, and even shrink areas of the brain that regulate emotions. No wonder anxiety, depression, and burnout creep in so easily.
Your immune system doesn’t escape either—high cortisol suppresses your defenses, leaving you more vulnerable to sickness, while also fueling low-grade inflammation that feeds long-term conditions. Add in the effects on digestion (bloating, reflux, IBS flare-ups), hormones (blood sugar swings, weight gain, libido and fertility struggles), and even outward signs like muscle pain, hair loss, and breakouts—and it becomes clear: stress doesn’t just make you tired. It breaks you down from the inside out.
All of this is going on in your body. And if you’re under a lot of stress as a family (like because you have a medically complicated child who keeps taking years off your life, or because one parent is gone on a deployment), then it’s probably also going on in your spouse’s body too. Two people, both worn thin on a cellular level—what does that do to a marriage?
Marriage is hard on a good day. But when your hair is falling out, your tummy hurts, your body aches, your brain only seems partially online most days, you’re gaining weight like you’re prepping to hibernate, and you’re so emotionally and physically fried that hibernation honestly sounds like a great idea…things are harder. Especially if your spouse is going through the same thing. The anxiety, sleepless nights, financial strain, medical crises—it all shoves us into survival mode, physically, emotionally, and relationally.
It’s no wonder we snap at each other faster, our patience runs thinner, and our thoughts grow less generous. “Can’t he see I’m just barely hanging on here? And he can’t even put the potato peeler away in the right drawer?”
When I started digging into this, I couldn’t find much research on what chronic stress does to marriage. The little I did find suggests stress pushes relationships one of two ways: it either draws you closer or drives you apart. Honestly? In my experience, it’s maybe both at different times, in different areas. And really, most marriages don’t actually end because of one single devastating event. It’s the slow buildup of hurt, fraying trust, and little things that wear the relationship down.
The weight of sustained stress is heavy, but I want to be clear: this isn’t a post that will give you “10 steps to save your marriage from stress!” I don’t have a formula to survive your season, and I don’t have a secret practice that guarantees you’ll come through stronger. What I can share is what seems to be working for us right now:
Pray for each other. Every day. Spend a little bit of your quiet time, car time, chore time—or whenever—praying for your person. I ask the Lord to hold my husband up, to be his strength when he feels weak, to give him peace when things feel chaotic. Sometimes I pray simply that Loren would remember to “cast his burdens on Jesus, for He cares.”
Have grace. So much grace. His body and brain are in survival mode too, and we handle it differently. Neither of us handles it perfectly. Grace covers a lot, and it keeps us from unraveling completely when we’re both exhausted.
Have grace again—but don’t put everything on hold. Some things still need to be said out loud. Don’t let things fester—talk. Have the hard conversations. The balance is learning which things grace can cover and which need to be gently addressed.
Pray for each other again. Sometimes I pray very specific things: that God would help my sweet husband see when he’s being an idiot so I don’t have to point it out. And just as often, I pray that God would help me not to take something personally so I don’t feel the need to point out that he’s being an idiot. Prayer softens both of us.
Love counter-intuitively. When you feel like pulling away because you’re hurt or mad, lean further in. Have healthy boundaries, yes, but sometimes we lash out or push people away when what we really need is to be pulled closer and loved a little extra. Don’t let stress (or the Enemy) trick you into isolating.
Notice the good. I’m a list maker. Recently, I found myself with a list of complaints and ways I felt let down. So I decided to start a list of thanks instead. I started noting one thing Loren did every day that made me feel loved, seen, or known. I still get frustrated, I still have complaints. But noticing and focusing on ways I feel loved and cared for instead of failed has helped me extend grace, stay intentional in how I love my husband, and honestly feel less frustrated and let down.
None of this will make you less stressed out. It won’t change the circumstances. But it has helped us remember we are in this together. That we are partners. That we promised for better or worse. It helps us love each other better. We’ll still snap. We’ll still irritate the heck out of each other. And maybe someday Loren will finally figure out where the potato peeler lives.
Until then—we’ll keep praying, keep giving grace, and keep showing up for each other, even when it’s hard.