When Prayer Becomes a Prison: How "The Power of a Praying Wife" Enables Spiritual Abuse

For years, I believed that if I just prayed hard enough, if I was patient enough, if I loved enough, my husband would change. I was married to an alcoholic who was emotionally, verbally, and physically abusive. He was unfaithful, manipulative, and unpredictable. But I stayed—because I was told that was what a good Christian wife does.

I turned to books like The Power of a Praying Wife, desperate for guidance. What I found was not empowerment or wisdom, but a message that told me my husband’s actions were my burden to bear. That if I just prayed more, submitted more, and trusted God more, he would stop drinking, stop hitting, stop cheating. That my suffering was part of God’s plan.

And when I finally found the strength to leave, I was met with resistance—not from my abuser, but from the church. A pastor even “prophesied” over me, declaring that it was God’s will for me to return to my husband. That God would heal him. That my faithfulness in suffering would lead to redemption. But whose redemption? Because it certainly wasn’t mine.

This is Spiritual Abuse

What happened to me wasn’t just domestic abuse—it was spiritual abuse.

Spiritual abuse happens when religious beliefs, doctrines, or practices are used to control, manipulate, and harm. It is when faith is weaponized to keep people trapped in systems that harm them. And evangelical teachings on marriage are one of the most insidious forms of this abuse.

I was told my suffering was holy. That enduring abuse was part of my spiritual journey. That God would reward my endurance. That my pain had divine purpose.

I was blamed for my husband’s sins. Instead of holding him accountable, I was told to pray harder, to submit more, to love more. If he was failing as a husband, it was because I was failing as a wife.

I was pressured to stay, even when I was unsafe. Leaving was framed as a lack of faith, a rejection of God’s plan. Divorce was seen as a sin—even when staying meant continued abuse.

I was shamed for leaving. The moment I chose myself, I became the villain. Instead of supporting me, the church told me I had given up on God’s will.

This is spiritual abuse at its core. It keeps women in harm’s way. It justifies suffering in the name of faith. It manipulates, shames, and controls.

The Church’s Response: “Be a Better Wife, and He’ll Be a Better Husband”

During my marriage, we reached out for help. I wanted counseling. I wanted someone—anyone—to see the truth of what was happening behind closed doors. But instead of support, I was told that if I was a better wife, he would be a better husband.

• If I was more submissive, he wouldn’t be so angry.

• If I was more patient, he wouldn’t drink as much.

• If I was more loving, he wouldn’t cheat.

  
  

Never once was he told to take responsibility. Never once was he called to accountability. Because in evangelical spaces, men are given grace. Women are expected to suffer for it.

I Didn’t Leave for Me- I Left for My Son

At the time, I didn’t leave because I believed I deserved better. I didn’t even love myself enough to think I was worth saving. But I loved my son. More than anything.

And one day, I realized that if I stayed, I was teaching him that this was normal. That this was love. That men drink and hit and cheat, and women pray and endure and forgive. That marriage meant suffering in silence. That love meant sacrifice.

I saw the future stretched out before me, and I knew—if I stayed, my son would grow up to be just like his father. And if that happened, I wouldn’t be able to say a damn thing. Because I would have signed off on it with my silence.

So I left.

Not for me, not at first. But for him. Because I refused to let that cycle continue.

The Power of a Praying Wife Enables Abuse

One of the most dangerous messages in evangelical marriage teachings is that a woman’s prayers—not her boundaries, not her self-respect, not her right to safety—are the key to a successful marriage. Books like The Power of a Praying Wife reinforce the idea that:

A woman is responsible for her husband’s behavior. If he is abusive, addicted, or unfaithful, it must mean she isn’t praying enough, loving enough, or submitting enough. The responsibility to fix him is placed entirely on her shoulders.

Leaving is a spiritual failure. No matter how much damage a marriage is causing, evangelical culture pushes women to stay, to endure, to believe that God will bless their suffering.

A woman’s pain is a test of faith. Women are taught that suffering is a virtue, that their endurance is part of God’s plan, and that walking away is a sign of weakness or rebellion.

For many women—including me—this theology is a death sentence. It traps them in dangerous situations, silences their cries for help, and convinces them that their suffering is a form of righteousness.

The Problem Isn’t Just the Book—It’s the System

I have no doubt that Stormie Omartian did not write The Power of a Praying Wife with the intention of keeping women further abused. But intentions do not negate impact.

Take these quotes, for example:

“A wife’s prayers for her husband have a far greater effect on him than anyone else’s, even his mother’s.”

This reinforces the idea that it is the wife’s responsibility to change her husband, that her prayers can transform him. But what happens when the husband in question is abusive, addicted, or unfaithful?

“Accept your husband the way he is and pray for him to grow. Then when change happens, it will be because God has worked it in him and it will be lasting.”

This is a dangerous message for a woman in an abusive marriage. It tells her that she should accept his behavior and simply pray for him to change.

“But God considers the sins of unforgiveness, anger, hatred, self-pity, lovelessness, and revenge to be just as bad as any others.”

This places unforgiveness and anger in the same category as abuse, cheating, and addiction. It tells women that leaving their husbands is just as bad as the harm being done to them.

If The Power of a Praying Wife existed in a religious culture that actively condemned abuse, this book might not be so harmful. But that is not the world we live in. We live in a world where pastors tell women to endure, where church leaders prioritize marriage over safety, and where divorce is treated as a greater sin than abuse.

It Took Me Years to Break Free

I left my marriage, but I didn’t leave the shame behind. At first, I felt like a failure. I carried the stigma of divorce like a scarlet letter. The church had convinced me that walking away made me unworthy.

It took years of therapy and self-work to untangle myself from that lie. And slowly, I realized I didn’t believe in that God anymore. The one who demanded my suffering. The one who ignored my pain. The one who stayed silent while I begged for help.

I let go of religion altogether. And for the first time, I didn’t feel lost—I felt free.

Reclaiming Power and Rejecting Spiritual Manipulation

No woman should be told that her suffering is sacred. No woman should be spiritually manipulated into believing that her silence is strength. True love—true partnership—is built on mutual respect, not control, and certainly not endurance of harm.

I walked away from my marriage, and in doing so, I walked away from a theology that demanded my submission at the expense of my safety. I chose me—not because I was selfish, but because I was finally strong enough to see that love should not require suffering.

And when I finally walked away from faith, I found something even greater: myself.

I walked away. And I finally found peace—not in prayer, not in submission, not in suffering. But in freedom.