It took four minutes. Nneka worked it out afterwards, lying awake that night: they had stopped at the traffic light at Ojota at about half past one, and by the time the light changed for the second time, she and Gideon were in a full argument, with the two children in the back seat gone completely silent.
They had been driving home from church on a Sunday afternoon. The sermon had been good. The children were hungry but cheerful. Nneka had chosen what she thought was a relaxed moment to mention something that had been on her mind all week. Her younger sister had just been posted to Lagos for her national youth service year, and she had nowhere to stay. “She was asking if she could stay with us for a while,” Nneka said. “Until she finds her feet.”
Gideon was holding his phone against the steering wheel, replying to a message from his boss while the car crawled forward. He said, “Hmm.” Then, without looking up, “Your people again.”
“What does that mean, my people again?”
“It means your brother stayed with us for eight months. Eight months, Nneka.”
Punchline“And your mother comes every month and stays for two weeks, and I have never said one word.”
“My mother is my mother. That is different.”
“How is it different?”
By then they were both talking at once, and neither was listening. Gideon brought up the electricity bill from when her brother had stayed. Nneka brought up the time his cousin had borrowed their car without asking. Their seven-year-old daughter started to cry quietly, and they both stopped. They drove the rest of the way home to Ikeja in silence. Lunch was eaten in silence. That evening they said good night politely and lay with their backs to each other.
Neither of them had understood what the other was actually saying. Nneka had not been asking for a yes. She had been asking for a conversation. And Gideon’s sharpness had very little to do with her sister. Three days earlier, his department had been told that there would be redundancies before the end of the year, and he had not yet found a way to tell his wife.
How a conversation becomes an argument
Most married couples will recognise the pattern. A conversation begins about one thing. Within minutes it has become about something else entirely: who is more selfish, whose family is more demanding, who always gets their way. Old grievances come out of storage. Words like always and never begin to fly. Each spouse is now defending a position, and the original question has been lost. The Bible names the problem directly:
He that answereth a matter before he heareth it , it is folly and shame unto him.
To answer a matter before you have heard it means replying to what you assume your spouse is saying instead of what they are actually saying. Gideon heard “my sister wants to stay” and answered a question that had not been asked: “Will you let my family take advantage of you again?” Nneka heard “your people again” and answered an accusation that she believed was behind it: “You think my family is a burden and yours is not.” Both responses had a history, and both had some truth in them. But neither spouse yet understood what was happening in the other person’s heart.
Another proverb explains why this happens so easily: “A fool hath no delight in understanding, but that his heart may discover itself” (Proverbs 18:2). The fool is not interested in understanding. He wants to express himself. Most arguments in marriage are two people trying to be understood at the same time, and nobody doing the understanding.
Communication involves two disciplines: listening with understanding and speaking so that truth can be received. Both can be learned. Both are made possible by grace. Neither comes naturally to fallen human beings, which is why Scripture has so much to say about them.
Swift to hear
James wrote his letter to believers who were under pressure. They were facing trials and poverty, and there was conflict in their churches. In the middle of his teaching about how to receive God’s word, he gives this instruction:
Wherefore, my beloved brethren, let every man be swift to hear, slow to speak, slow to wrath: For the wrath of man worketh not the righteousness of God.
“Let every man be swift to hear, slow to speak, slow to wrath.” The order matters. Hearing comes first, and it is meant to be quick. Speaking and anger come afterwards, and both are meant to be slow. In most marriage arguments we reverse it completely. We are quick to speak, quick to anger, and very slow to hear.
What does it mean to be swift to hear? It begins with attention. You cannot listen properly while replying to an office message at a traffic light, scrolling through a phone at the dining table or watching the football out of the corner of your eye. Listening means turning towards your spouse, physically and mentally, and letting them know that, for these few minutes, they have all of you.
Listening also involves curiosity. Proverbs puts it beautifully: “Counsel in the heart of man is like deep water; but a man of understanding will draw it out” (Proverbs 20:5). What your spouse first says is often not the deepest thing they mean. The real concern lies underneath, like water at the bottom of a well, and it has to be drawn up patiently. A good listener asks questions. What makes this matter so much to you? What are you worried about? Is there something else?
Jesus shows us this on the road to Emmaus. Two of His disciples were walking home after the crucifixion, heartbroken and confused. The risen Lord came alongside them, and He did not begin with a sermon. He asked, “What manner of communications are these that ye have one to another, as ye walk, and are sad?” (Luke 24:17). When they expressed surprise that He did not know, He asked again: “What things?” (Luke 24:19). He knew everything that had happened far better than they did. Yet He let them tell their story first. He listened to their disappointment before He opened the Scriptures to them.
Listening also pays attention to what is not said in words. A sigh, a shortness in the voice, a sudden interest in the phone, a wife who answers “it is fine” while scrubbing a pot harder than it needs: these often carry the real message. Swift hearing notices them and asks gently, without turning the observation into an accusation. “You sound tired tonight. Is something weighing on you?” invites your spouse in. “Why are you in a mood again?” pushes them away.
If the Lord Himself was willing to listen first, we can learn to do the same with our husbands and wives. One simple practice helps. Before you respond to what your spouse has said, tell them what you heard, in your own words. “So you are saying that your sister has nowhere to go, and you want us to think about it together?” It feels awkward at first. But it slows the conversation down and gives your spouse the chance to say, “Yes, that is it,” or “No, that is not quite what I meant.” Very often, an argument is prevented in that moment.
Slow to speak, slow to wrath
Being slow to speak does not mean saying nothing. Some spouses withdraw into silence as a way of punishing the other, and that is not what James means. Slowness to speak means taking time before you answer, so that what you say comes from understanding instead of reaction. “He that hath knowledge spareth his words” (Proverbs 17:27). Another proverb is sharper still: “Seest thou a man that is hasty in his words? there is more hope of a fool than of him” (Proverbs 29:20).
Slowness to wrath means that anger is not the first thing you reach for. Anger is not always sinful, and Paul will say so in Ephesians 4. But James adds a sober reason to be careful with it: “the wrath of man worketh not the righteousness of God.” Human anger does not produce the outcomes God desires. A husband may win an argument by shouting louder, and a wife may win it by being more cutting. Neither has produced righteousness. Usually they have produced only distance.
In practice this may mean learning to pause. If you feel your heart rate climbing and words forming that you know will wound, it is wise to say, “I want to answer you properly, and I cannot do that right now. Can we come back to this tonight?” That is not running away. It is choosing to protect the conversation, and your spouse, from what anger would say. The promise to return matters. A pause that becomes permanent avoidance is just another way of refusing to listen.
The soft answer
Tone often decides whether truth can be heard at all. The same sentence can be spoken as an invitation or as an attack. Proverbs understood this long before anyone studied communication:
A soft answer turneth away wrath: but grievous words stir up anger. The tongue of the wise useth knowledge aright: but the mouth of fools poureth out foolishness. The eyes of the LORD are in every place, beholding the evil and the good. A wholesome tongue is a tree of life: but perverseness therein is a breach in the spirit.
“A soft answer turneth away wrath: but grievous words stir up anger.” A soft answer is not a weak answer. It may contain a firm disagreement or a hard truth. What makes it soft is the manner: a gentle voice, a respectful choice of words, an absence of contempt. Grievous words are those that hurt, words chosen to wound or that carry an edge of mockery. They stir up anger every time.
“A wholesome tongue is a tree of life.” A healing tongue brings life into a home. “But perverseness therein is a breach in the spirit.” Twisted, harsh speech breaks something inside a person. Most of us can remember words spoken by a parent or spouse years ago that still sting. Words do not disappear when the argument ends.
There is a lovely example of a soft answer in the life of a man who shares a name with the husband in our story. After Gideon’s victory over the Midianites, the men of Ephraim came to him furious that they had not been called to the battle earlier, “And they did chide with him sharply” (Judges 8:1). Gideon could easily have answered with the truth that they had not been needed. Instead, he praised what they had accomplished and played down his own part. “What have I done now in comparison of you?” (Judges 8:2). And Scripture records the result: “Then their anger was abated toward him, when he had said that” (Judges 8:3).
Gideon did not lie. Ephraim had captured two Midianite princes. But he chose to begin with honour instead of defence, and a dangerous quarrel was turned aside. Another proverb says, “a soft tongue breaketh the bone” (Proverbs 25:15). Gentleness has a strength that force does not.
Timing is part of truth
Some conversations go wrong because of what is said. Others go wrong because of when it is said. Ecclesiastes reminds us that there is “a time to keep silence, and a time to speak” (Ecclesiastes 3:7), and Proverbs adds, “a word spoken in due season, how good is it!” (Proverbs 15:23).
One of the clearest examples of wise timing in Scripture comes from Abigail, the wife of a foolish and harsh man named Nabal. Nabal had insulted David, and David was on his way with armed men to destroy his household. Abigail rode out, met David, and with remarkable wisdom turned him back. Then she returned home:
And Abigail came to Nabal; and, behold, he held a feast in his house, like the feast of a king; and Nabal’s heart was merry within him, for he was very drunken: wherefore she told him nothing, less or more, until the morning light. But it came to pass in the morning, when the wine was gone out of Nabal, and his wife had told him these things, that his heart died within him, and he became as a stone.
Abigail had urgent news. Her husband needed to know how close he had come to disaster. But she found him drunk at a feast, “wherefore she told him nothing, less or more, until the morning light.” She knew that the truth, however necessary, would not be received in that condition. So she waited until he was sober.
Nabal’s story ends in judgement, and he is not a model husband. But Abigail’s wisdom about timing has a great deal to teach us. Many important conversations in Lagos homes are attempted at the worst possible moments: the minute a husband walks in at ten o’clock after a two-hour journey from the Island, when a wife is trying to get three children ready for school at six in the morning, in the middle of a family gathering with the in-laws listening, or through a long voice note sent in the middle of the working day. The truth may be right, and the timing may still ensure that it cannot be heard.
Nehemiah gives us another picture. He heard that Jerusalem’s walls were broken down, and he grieved and prayed for about four months before he spoke to the king. When the moment came, the king noticed his sadness and asked him directly what he wanted:
Then the king said unto me, For what dost thou make request? So I prayed to the God of heaven. And I said unto the king, If it please the king, and if thy servant have found favour in thy sight, that thou wouldest send me unto Judah, unto the city of my fathers’ sepulchres, that I may build it.
Look at the sequence. “So I prayed to the God of heaven.” Then he spoke, respectfully and specifically. Nehemiah did not blurt out his burden at the first opportunity, nor did he keep it to himself forever. He prepared his heart, waited for an appropriate moment, prayed silently in the moment itself and then made a clear request.
That is a pattern for difficult conversations in marriage. Pray before you raise a hard matter. Think about the right time and place. Ask your spouse, “When would be a good time to talk about something important?” and then keep to that time.
One modern note belongs here. A great deal of married communication now happens by text message and voice note, squeezed into a working day or a long commute. These are useful for practical arrangements. They are poor carriers of difficult truth, because tone is easily misread and there is no face to soften the words. A message read in a hurry on a crowded bus can sound far colder than it was meant. Keep the weighty conversations for the times when you can see each other.
Speaking the truth as members one of another
In Ephesians 4, Paul describes the new life believers live together. He begins with communication:
Wherefore putting away lying, speak every man truth with his neighbour: for we are members one of another. Be ye angry, and sin not: let not the sun go down upon your wrath: Neither give place to the devil. Let him that stole steal no more: but rather let him labour, working with his hands the thing which is good, that he may have to give to him that needeth. Let no corrupt communication proceed out of your mouth, but that which is good to the use of edifying, that it may minister grace unto the hearers.
“Wherefore putting away lying, speak every man truth with his neighbour.” In marriage, lying is not always a dramatic deception. Sometimes it is a quiet “I am fine” when you are not. Sometimes it is hiding the redundancy notice for three days because you do not know how to say it. Honest communication requires us to put away the small evasions as well as the large ones.
“For we are members one of another.” This is why truth matters. When one part of a body hides its condition from the rest, the whole body suffers. A husband who carries his fear alone cannot be helped by his wife. A wife who keeps her disappointment hidden cannot be understood by her husband. If you are one flesh, you need to know what is happening in each other’s lives.
“Be ye angry, and sin not: let not the sun go down upon your wrath.” Paul allows that anger may be justified, but he places a time limit on it. Anger that is carried overnight, and then for days, hardens into resentment. Couples do not always need to resolve every disagreement before bed. Sometimes it is wiser to sleep and continue in the morning. But they should not let the day end in hostility, with backs turned and the anger left to grow.
Then comes verse 29: “Let no corrupt communication proceed out of your mouth.” The word translated corrupt was used of rotten fruit or decaying fish, something that had gone bad and spread its decay. Rotten words in a marriage include sarcasm, mockery, insults about a spouse’s family and contemptuous remarks that belittle. Instead, our speech should be “good to the use of edifying, that it may minister grace unto the hearers.”
That is a remarkable standard. Before you speak, ask whether your words will build your spouse up and give them grace. This does not mean avoiding difficult subjects. Edifying words sometimes include hard truth. “Faithful are the wounds of a friend” (Proverbs 27:6). But even hard truth can be spoken in a way that builds and does not destroy. Paul says elsewhere, “Let your speech be alway with grace, seasoned with salt” (Colossians 4:6). Salt gives flavour and preserves. Grace makes it possible for the other person to receive what is said.
NuggetTruth spoken without grace rarely reaches the heart. Grace that avoids every truth leaves the problem untouched. Speak so that your spouse can actually hear what you are saying.
Making clear requests
Many marital conversations fail because a request is disguised as a complaint. “You never help in the house” is a complaint. It invites defence. “Could you bathe the children on the nights I work late?” is a request. It invites an answer. “You don’t care about my career” is a complaint. “I would like us to sit down and plan how I can finish my master’s degree next year” is a request.
Clear requests are specific, they are made about the future and they describe your own need instead of your spouse’s failings. They are not always granted, and a spouse should be free to say, “I cannot do that, but could we try this instead?” But clear requests give a marriage something to work with.
The other side of this is learning to receive hard truth. If your spouse tells you that something you do hurts them, the temptation is to defend yourself immediately or to bring up something they have done. Try instead to hear it as information you need. You may not agree with everything. You may need to explain your side later. But first, take it seriously. “Thank you for telling me. Help me understand.” A spouse who can receive correction without counter-attack makes it safe for honesty to grow.
Conversations about the wider family need particular care in our setting. In many Nigerian homes, a husband and wife each carry obligations to parents, siblings and relatives that the other did not grow up with, and the expectations can be heavy: the brother who needs a place to stay, the mother who visits for weeks, the cousin whose school fees someone is expected to help with. These matters are rarely just practical. They touch loyalty, identity and old family wounds. Language such as “your people” and “my people” quietly divides the household into two camps. It helps to speak of “our” decisions about how we will honour both families. A spouse is far more able to discuss a hard request from the in-laws when they do not first have to defend their family’s worth.
Responsible communication also means following through. If you agree to something in a conversation, do it. If you promise to think about it, come back with an answer. Trust in communication is built when words lead to action.
When talking keeps going wrong
Some couples have tried everything in this article and still find that every conversation ends in a fight. That is not a reason for despair. Patterns of communication are often learned in childhood and reinforced over years, and they can take time and help to change. A mature, trusted older couple or a pastor can help. A qualified Christian counsellor can be invaluable, especially where old wounds keep surfacing in present arguments. There is no shame in seeking that kind of help. Proverbs says repeatedly that wisdom is found in a multitude of counsellors.
There is one situation where the goal is not better communication but safety. If you are afraid to speak honestly because your spouse responds with threats, intimidation or violence, or if silence is used to punish and control you for days at a time, that is no longer simply a communication problem. It is a pattern of control. No one is required by God to endure that in the name of submission or peace. Please speak to someone you trust, and seek help from qualified professionals or the appropriate authorities. Your safety, and the safety of your children, comes first.
Gideon told Nneka about the redundancies on the Wednesday after that silent Sunday. He did it badly at first, blurting it out as she was washing up. Then he stopped himself, turned the kettle on, and asked if they could sit down.
They talked for two hours. He told her that he had been terrified for days and ashamed to say so, and that when she mentioned her sister, all he could think was that they might soon not be able to afford another mouth to feed. Nneka listened. She did not interrupt. When he finished, she said, “So you were not refusing my sister. You were frightened about your job, and you did not know how to tell me.” He nodded, and something in his chest let go.
Then it was her turn. She explained that she had not been asking him to say yes. She had wanted him to think it through with her. She also told him, gently, that “your people again” had hurt her, because it made her feel that her family would always be a burden to him while his was simply family. He apologised, and this time he meant it.
They did not solve everything that night. Her sister came to stay for six weeks, with a clear agreement about when she would move to the hostel near her place of primary assignment. Gideon kept his job in the end, though they did not know that for months. What changed was something else. They had discovered that they could talk about hard things without destroying each other, if they listened first, chose their moment and spoke with grace.
PunchlineNneka laughed about it later. “Four minutes,” she said. “That is all it took to start the argument. It took us two hours to have the conversation. But the conversation was worth it.”
Teaching Companion
For Reflection
- Think about your last serious disagreement with your spouse. At what point did the conversation become an argument? What was each of you actually trying to say?
- How quickly do you listen, and how quickly do you speak? What would it look like to reverse the order?
- Which words or phrases do you use with your spouse that might be “corrupt communication” or “grievous words”? What could you say instead?
- Is there a hard conversation you need to have? When and where would be the wisest time to have it?
- Is there a complaint you keep repeating that you could turn into a clear, specific request?
This Week
This week, practise reflective listening once a day. When your spouse tells you something that matters to them, resist the urge to respond straight away. Instead, say back what you heard in your own words and ask, “Have I understood you?” Only after they agree should you share your own view. At the end of the week, talk together about what changed.
A Prayer
Lord, You are the God who listens. You heard my cry before I knew how to pray, and You speak to me with grace and truth. Teach me to be swift to hear and slow to speak in my marriage. Set a guard over my mouth, so that no corrupt communication comes out of it, and let my words build up my spouse and minister grace. Give me wisdom about when to speak and when to wait, and courage to speak truth in love. Help us to understand one another, and where we need help, lead us to wise counsel. In Jesus’ name, Amen.
Truth received brings freedom. Truth believed establishes the heart.
Scripture quotations are from the King James Version. · Illustrations using first names only are composites unless stated otherwise.