Can I be honest?
I have struggled at times that my wife isn't side by side with me "in the trenches" of youth ministry.
Before we married, I knew that youth ministry was not Mary Beth's passion, and I was genuinely content with that going into our union. But still, knowing something intellectually is very different from living it out practically, day after day.
During the first eight years of our marriage, there have been moments, quiet ones, where I struggled to remain content. I would watch other couples do ministry together: husbands and wives serving side by side, both deeply integrated, both equally visible. And if I'm being raw and vulnerable, there were times I had to fight jealousy, and even the severe lie that I could have married someone else who was more aligned in practical or "traditional" ministry.
Objectively, I knew this internal battle didn't mean I loved my wife less, or that God was any less sovereign in bringing us together. It meant I had to confront assumptions I was subtly carrying.
If you've ever felt that tension, if you've ever been tempted to believe that lie, or quietly compared your marriage to someone else's and wondered if something was missing, you're not alone. In fact, you're quite human.
So as flawed (yet redeemed) humans, let's chat.
Releasing the Version of Ministry I Expected
One of the most formative shifts early in our marriage has been learning to release a traditional picture of ministry in order to embrace a truer one. This shift has been twofold: how I release my wife in her vocational calling, and how Mary Beth releases me in mine.
Mary Beth deeply loves the gospel and ministry, that has always been clear and beautiful to watch. But she has never pretended to be passionate about student ministry. In fact, she made it quite clear she has little tolerance for teenagers (let's be honest, that's most people). And I've never wanted her to fake it.
So if I never sought to expect or force her into youth ministry, the real question became: what does her ministry actually look like?
Early on, I had to remind myself that her lack of passion for youth ministry was not a setback or hindrance. It was an intentional invitation, and discipline, for me to see her ministry clearly: in her work and in our home, and joyfully release her into that.
Her calling has always been evident. She is strong, hardworking, and deeply committed to serving the vulnerable. That calling has been lived out through her work as a social worker in a retirement community, walking alongside the elderly through seasons of decline, grief, and transition. It has also been expressed through her service in our church's special needs ministry, where compassion matters far more than platform.
And in our own home, her ministry is marked by faithful presence discipling our son, anchoring our family, and releasing me as I step into the trenches of youth ministry.
I've watched her live with integrity in her vocation. And in our current season as parents to a toddler and another on the way, that calling continues to take on new and subtle shapes. Watching her mother with intentionality, joy, strength, and character, while still faithfully serving as an excellent social worker, is both humbling and inspiring.
She is faithful to the ministry God has entrusted to her. And it has become both my discipline and my delight to make space for that.
Which means this: sacrifice in marriage is a two-way street. Not just Mary Beth making sacrifices for me, but me making sacrifices for her.
It's a mutual submission.
A Disciplined Journey of Honor
Pursuing youth ministry while my wife is not deeply passionate about it has required discipline in both my heart and my schedule.
Discipline to resist comparison with other ministry couples.
Discipline to celebrate difference instead of resenting it.
Discipline to honor her calling without measuring it against my own.
Discipline to champion her ministry without making mine "more important."
Discipline to say "no" to something in youth ministry so she can say "yes" to something in hers.
Part of my sanctification has been learning to honor her calling through boundaries: choosing when to be home, resisting the tyranny of the urgent and the ministry savior complex, and saying "no" to opportunities I could easily justify as "the Lord's work" (whatever that means).
Vocational ministry does not get to consume what God has asked me to steward: first my intimacy with Him; second, my family; and third, our collective ministry together.
"Traditional ministry" (my wife serving in the spotlight alongside me) may not be our reality.
But the tradeoff has been something genuinely more joyful.
A Slice of Our Mutual Ministry
Mary Beth supports my calling in ways that don't always fit a ministry highlight reel.
Sometimes she serves behind the scenes. Other times she attends staff meetings or portions of retreats. And other moments find her serving in entirely different areas of the church. Often she's the mastermind behind a DIY Christmas gift for my team, and sometimes, support simply looks like releasing me to do the work God has called me to, without guilt or resentment.
Fun fact: I am wildly extroverted, an external processor. Mary Beth is highly introverted, insightful, and deeply analytical,an internal processor. It has been her joy (usually) to receive my long-winded processing through her thoughtful reflection.
She gives me a safe place to process ministry life. She offers affirmation, discernment, accountability, and honest feedback when I need it.
There are times when I sit with Mary Beth in her own struggles of faith. And there are times when she sits with me in the heaviness of ministry, holding space for frustration, tears, and honest processing without rushing me toward answers. There are seasons when one of us feels spiritually strong and the other feels dry or tired. In those moments, our role isn't to fix each other. It's to stay present.
Present with God.
Present with ourselves.
Present with each other.
One beautiful rhythm we commit to is this: every Sunday evening, we sit together to talk through the week behind us and the week ahead. We celebrate. We mourn. We recalibrate. We pray.
That rhythm has grounded us more than any ministry strategy ever could.
A Missional Marriage
Here are a few truths I've learned, and am still learning:
Real ministry in marriage is not always shared roles; it's shared faithfulness.
Your spouse does not need to share your excitement to deeply support it.
Comparison quietly erodes gratitude if left unchecked.
Honoring your spouse's calling may require releasing the version of ministry you imagined.
Ministry doesn't start on a stage. It starts at home, in unseen choices, practiced over time.
Your public-facing ministry does not need to look uniform, but it absolutely must be unified.
Our marriage may not look like a traditional ministry marriage.
But it is real.
It is unified.
It is full of Jesus.
And I would charge hell with a squirt gun with Mary Beth every day of the week.
Tony Villafane equips teenagers and youth leaders to step into their God-given calling. He serves as Area Coordinator with NNYM, Student Ministry Pastor at Gateway Church, and Regional Director for Engage Ministry. Married to Mary Beth with one son and another on the way, he loves guitar, Spikeball, Marvel, board games, and thoughtful conversations about personality and faith.
