If you asked our kids how their parents met, they’d tell you it was straight out of a Christian rom-com — a real Christian marriage story about choosing each other and learning to keep saying “yes” through every season.
Maybe your story started that way, too, full of butterflies, late-night phone calls, and the kind of certainty that makes you believe God Himself wrote your names in the same chapter. But then, as the years rolled on, the story changed. The everyday replaced the extraordinary. The “happily ever after” turned into school runs, bills, and finding time to talk between all the noise.
If that’s you, this story’s for you.
The Beginning of Our Christian Rom-Com
busted by our youth kids (not suggest youth leader show PSA)
I was 21, running the youth ministry at Campbelltown Church of Christ with my good mate Eric. If you asked the senior pastor, he’d have told you Eric was running it — but between you, me, and the gatepost, I was the responsible one, and Eric was the fun one. I kept things organised, he kept everyone laughing, and somehow, it worked.
Between leading youth, worship leading most weekends, and being the “safe pair of hands” whenever something needed doing, I didn’t exactly have a lot of practice at meeting new people — and I didn’t feel comfortable doing it either. I could lead a service from start to finish — communion, songs, announcements, you name it — but small talk? Forget it. Even now, I’m not a small-talk kind of girl. Give me half a chance, and I’ll skip the chit-chat and go straight for something deep and real.
A Promise and a New Face
Back then, though, my friends knew it was a problem. So one night, after being teased yet again about how hopeless I was at introducing myself to newcomers, I made a deal: If there’s someone new at church tonight, I’ll go and say hello. Simple as that.
Cue Phil walking through the door.
He’d come with one of his youth kids — a teenager from the Anglican church he was serving in. Their associate pastor had basically tossed him the keys to the minivan and said, “Find somewhere that’ll actually feed these kids spiritually.” So that’s how they ended up at our service.
I was up front worship leading, and true to my word, I walked up to the two strangers after the service and introduced myself. Small victory achieved. End of story — or so I thought.
Misdirected interpretation of the meeting
Dating
A couple of weeks later, at our outdoor carols, that same teenager turned up drunk as a skunk, and I spent the night sitting on the gutter with him, keeping him company. At the time, I figured maybe my little “say hello to a new person” promise was just God’s way of preparing me for that moment. But of course, He was setting up something much bigger.
Over the months that followed, Phil and his youth crew started attending our Sunday night services. We’d cross paths at McDonald’s after church — our unofficial second service — and eventually, he was invited to our home group. It took him eighteen months to show up. Apparently, he thought I was already taken because I seemed “popular.” (That still makes me laugh.)
Our engagement dinner with Phil’s Family
What he didn’t know was that I used to joke about being a passive friend collector. Debbie — my best friend at the time — was the social one who met all the new people, and I’d end up becoming friends with them by default. Everyone knew who I was because of my upfront role, and I’d slowly learn who everyone else was through osmosis — no introductions required.
Praying the Ball in Phil’s Court
Man and Wife
When Phil finally joined our homegroup, we clicked. Friendship turned into interest, and — because old habits die hard — I prayed the ball into Phil’s court: “If this is the guy, Lord, You’ll have to prompt him to ask me out.”
And for the first time, that prayer worked.
Phil asked me out, and within six weeks, we were engaged. We married ten months later. Fifteen months after that, we had Grace, then Jacob, then Ben, then Caleb. We were busy, happy, broke, and convinced we were living our happily-ever-after.
Except… that’s not where the story ends.
family complete
When the Credits Roll and Real Life Begins
Because if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that the wedding isn’t the finale — it’s the opening credits of a Christian marriage story about choosing each other through everything that follows.
Over the next thirty-plus years, we faced things no rom-com ever covers. There were illnesses — some major, some ongoing. There was postnatal depression that lingered for nearly twenty years. Phil lost his hearing. We raised kids with neurodivergent challenges before that word was even common. We weathered financial strain, ministry burnout, the ache of moving states, and the profound fatigue that comes from living inside the fishbowl of full-time ministry.
A Shared Heart for Ministry
Through it all, one thing never changed: our shared heart for serving the local church and showing people Jesus. That’s been our constant thread — the foundation of who we are together. But when we eventually stepped out of full-time ministry, it hit me hard. That transition felt like losing a piece of my identity. Ministry had been the rhythm of our lives — our purpose, our community, our anchor — and letting go of that was an emotional shock I didn’t see coming.
The Ordinary and the Dry Seasons
This was a travel moment, where things had been tense; this is real emotion.
And then there’s all the ordinary stuff. The years that felt humdrum, when everything ran on autopilot, when we questioned whether certain things were still worth doing. We’ve made choices that, looking back, weren’t the right ones. We’ve hit seasons so dry that the only thing that kept me going was knowing God had brought us together — and that He hadn’t stopped writing our story yet. I am so glad we rode these times out.
Phil would tell you his perspective is shaped by experience, too. Having been through a divorce before, he knows the cost of walking away. He made up his mind early that this marriage was forever — and he’s fought for it, for us, not out of stubbornness, but because grace gave him another chance to live out a covenant.
Still Choosing Each Other – A Christian Marriage Story
Ready to take flight
We’ve laughed, cried, served, argued, prayed, and rebuilt more times than I can count. And somehow, after thirty-two years, we’re still here — maybe not as polished as that starry-eyed couple at the altar, but definitely stronger and deeper.
Now, as the years settle in around us — with the creaks, aches, and slower mornings that come with age — that theme of choosing each other has only deepened. Life doesn’t look exactly like we imagined in our younger days. Some dreams shifted, some doors closed, and some adventures now come with a side of sore knees and joint cream. But every day, we still choose to do life together. We adapt, we laugh, and we find joy in new seasons, even when they look different from the ones we planned.
That’s the heartbeat of Sapphire Blue Travel — and really, the heartbeat of us. We believe that the best way to nurture a relationship is to keep choosing it. Whether you’re exploring Europe, road-tripping across Australia, or just sitting on the couch holding hands after a long day, love grows through the choice to keep showing up.
It’s a Christian marriage story about choosing each other, again and again, even when the road gets rough.
When a Rom-Com Meets Real Life — and Stays
Loving the Japanese Gardens together
The rom-com met real life — and stayed.
Because love doesn’t end with a pretty bow. It deepens in the mess, matures in the mundane, and finds its strength in two people who keep choosing each other — and Jesus — again and again.
So if your story feels less like a Hallmark movie and more like a patchwork quilt of grace, exhaustion, laughter, and faith — congratulations, you’re living the real thing.
The Christian rom-com doesn’t end at “I do.”
That’s where the real adventure begins.
“He who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus.” – Philippians 1:6
Couples’ Take
If you’ve ever felt like the “movie magic” has faded from your marriage, remember this:
God’s not done writing your story. The best love scenes are the ones written in faithfulness — the moments when you choose each other, even when life feels painfully ordinary.
A Thought to Take With You
The truth is, we all change as we get older — and that’s okay. Love was never meant to stand still. Some seasons stretch us; others soften us. The challenge — and the gift — is learning to love each other as we are now, not just as we were then.
If you’ve found yourself thinking, “They’re not the person I married,” maybe today’s the moment to pause and look again. Take a fresh, grace-filled look at the person beside you — not through eyes searching for what’s missing, but through eyes open to the good that’s grown over time.
Because the truth is, marriage isn’t about staying the same — it’s about growing, changing, forgiving, and still choosing each other through it all. It’s a bit like parenting: just when you think you’ve figured out your kid, they hit a growth spurt or a hormone wave and suddenly become a whole new person you have to get to know. Marriage can be like that too — we evolve, we stretch, we stumble, and we learn to love the new versions of each other as we go. And honestly, that’s part of the fun of doing life with these amazing humans God’s given us to share the journey with.
When You Need a Little Extra Help
If you’re in a season where it feels hard to reconnect, you might like to read 9 Ways to Reconnect With Your Spouse — it’s full of gentle, practical ideas to help you see and love one another afresh.
And if things feel heavier than that right now — if your marriage is in a place where you can’t work on it alone, or if you’re not sure what the next step looks like — please reach out for support. Sometimes that means sitting down with a trusted counsellor or pastor to find your way forward together. But if you’re in a situation where you don’t feel safe, get to a safe place first. Then seek help and guidance from someone you trust.
You don’t have to walk this road by yourself. Get the support you need before making big decisions. Sometimes you’ll find you’ve got something worth fighting for — and sometimes, sadly, you’ll discover it’s something you need to step away from. Either way, you deserve help, wisdom, and safety on that journey.
Remember: this isn’t about perfect couples or picture-postcard endings. It’s about real people learning, every day, to love well, live wisely, and travel brilliantly — together.
