How Children Divide and Unite

thoughts on differences and unity

Aug 07, 2026

Physical Differences

When it comes to bringing a baby into the world, God designed a man's body to plant the sperm and a woman's body to receive fertilization and incubate new life. A man's body and brain seem especially suited for greater strength, risk-taking action, and singularly focused activity, while a woman's body and brain seem uniquely suited for breastfeeding, better social cognition, and integrating sensory information with intuition. [1]

These are not the only differences, but a sampling of what I think can be catalysts for unity and intimacy between spouses. The above illustration represents those differences and how we might view ourselves as incompatible. Please understand that the illustration is merely a representation. If you're like me and find the battle imagery more inspiring than idyllic motherhood, don't panic. I don’t think we’re a twisted product of a sinful culture. I think God meant us to be different for the good of those who love Him.

The Great Divide

Never have I felt more different from my husband than during the childbearing years.

Before children, we tackled life side by side—building a playground at church, planting trees, remodeling our studio house, teaching classes, rock climbing, and traveling. Pregnancy, childbirth, nursing, and the physical and emotional aftermath changed that. My husband couldn't experience those realities with me. My body carried them alone, and that was isolating.

I had women who understood mastitis and sleepless nights, but I didn’t feel comfortable sharing with anyone how my body, mind, and emotions seemed disinclined towards motherhood. And even if I could share, other moms weren't the person God had joined to me. They didn't climb into bed beside me every night or help carry the responsibility for our children. It felt strange that I struggled to share these burdens with the one Scripture calls "one flesh" with me.

From the day our children were born, I felt our married lives diverging. Gradually, other mothers became my co-learners, while my husband became someone I updated or occasionally asked for input from. Our masculinity and femininity weren't the problem. Our different experiences simply exposed a deeper issue: I didn’t trust that growing intimacy with him was the best way to walk through motherhood. I trusted other women more.

Resentment widened the gap. He left for work, spoke with adults, and used skills he enjoyed. I stayed home changing diapers, cleaning spit-up, breaking up fights, enduring constant interruptions, and wondering if I would ever do what I was good at again. Was this simply what it meant to be a woman, giving up everything?

Perhaps many mothers experience this—a growing dependence on other women and a growing distance from their husbands. While my husband worked, I developed systems that functioned without him. When he came home, I either handed everything over so I could recover or hesitated to involve him because I didn't want to manage him like he was a kid. Collaboration was rare. We simply didn't know how.

Then God Altered Our Course

Over the last six years, the Lord has been teaching us a new way. It began when COVID sent my husband home to stay and brought to light that I had no idea how to live day in and day out with my husband. Our disunity was further checked through a tricky church situation that prompted a study on Paul’s New Testament letters.

I became convinced that Scripture does not forbid men and women from leading together in the church. Rather than limiting women's participation, Paul's letters seem primarily concerned with correcting false teaching, educating believers, and preserving the first-century church. I came to realize that if that were true, then husbands and wives should also be able to lead together in the home. Right? In Christ, we’re not just able to; we might even be delighted and blessed by such a union. Upon discovering this, I sensed God’s call to work towards this unity in my home and church, believing that God intended good for us.

After an uncomfortable change of direction, it felt like the Lord married us all over again. And following fast on the heels of that, we were tested through the ministry of parenting. Instead of seeing children as an interruption to unity with my husband or as a woman's highest calling, I began to see them as an ongoing ministry through which Christ could deepen our marriage. It’s not merely a ministry of parents to children, but children to parents. My kids are truth-speakers, idol-breakers, pace-stoppers, goal-crushers, and character testers.

Our children’s entry into our lives wasn’t to highlight gender differences, but to expose coping mechanisms, hidden fears, and emotional baggage. That’s what hindered our unity, not our gender differences. God used our children to uncover what needed healing and to draw us toward one another instead of away. Through our children, the Lord has been showing me how to live as one with the love of my life instead of just beside him.

I want to walk through every season with him—when we are celebrated and when we are criticized, when life is easy and when it is painfully hard. I want to learn from his strengths and invite him into the places I instinctively carry alone. I want us to endure the difficult years of parenting together and someday stand side by side as we coach, counsel, and encourage our grown children.

Over the past few years, we’ve been learning to work together, communicate our desires, and to guard our relationship against what divides. No, this doesn’t mean we do everything together, but it means we are seeking to do what matters most together. We’ve seen how the Lord is using this to grow us.