When God Seems to Bless an Abuser’s Ministry: Wrestling with Miracles, Ministry, and Hidden Harm in the Home
When I finally began to understand—really understand—that what I was experiencing in my marriage wasn’t just difficult but abuse, one of my deepest spiritual struggles came into sharp focus: “Why would God allow such clear blessings to flow through a marriage that was also causing so much harm?”
I saw miracles unfold through our family. Real ones. Life-changing ones. Most of them, it seemed, came in response to my husband’s prayers. He was the visible one—the one leading, moving our family from one mission post to the next.
And yet, behind closed doors, there was another reality: deep emotional pain, spiritual abuse, and physical intimidation. I was praying too—desperately—but it was his prayers that seemed to open heaven. And I began to ask:
Why would God bless our family through the hands of someone who was hurting us?
Why did God seem to work through him when we were suffering in secret?
Why would God answer the prayers of a man who was choosing to abuse his family?
These questions haunted me and kept me frozen in an abusive marriage far longer than I should have stayed. One of the most painful parts wasn’t just enduring the abuse—it was trying to make sense of how the miracles could exist alongside it.
How could God allow such visible blessing and such private harm to unfold at the same time?
When Blessing and Abuse Collide
Early in our marriage, we began tithing despite being buried in my husband’s debt that he brought into the marriage. That year, most of our bills fell into collections. My husband prayed fervently about this, and by the time tax season came around, we received a $20,000 refund—just $100 over what we needed to pay off everything. It was the first real miracle I had ever experienced.
Years later, during the years we served as missionaries, my husband prayed for a plane to help in isolated mission fields—and instead, he received six decommissioned planes donated by his previous employer. Worth well over a few million dollars combined, they were all given away to support various mission projects.
Another time, we received $15,000 in cash from a couple who had no idea we had been praying for almost that exact amount to build a home in South America, where we were moving to serve after my husband felt compelled to leave his flying job due to not being able to share his faith at work.
And maybe the most stunning miracle of all came during our separation. At the time, I was still holding out hope for healing in our marriage—we were praying for direction, for provision, for a way forward. That’s when we discovered an old 401(k) account with $126,000 in it. My husband had thought he closed it out a decade earlier. And now, it showed up at the exact moment we needed to buy a home near his aging parents, after years of volunteer mission service. It felt like an amazing answer to prayer.
Provision. Timing. Miracles. And yet—behind it all—there was deep pain. My son and I were suffering in silence. It was confusing. It was heartbreaking. And it was the very thing that kept me stuck because I wrestled with the thought, “If God is bringing blessings through our marriage, or more specifically my husband, how can I walk away from it?”
The Question Many Christian Women Ask
Now, years later, I work with women in similar situations. Women married to pastors, missionaries, ministry leaders—men who are highly respected, often seen as gifted or anointed, and outwardly successful.
And they’re left asking the same question I once asked:
“How can God use him… if he’s doing this to us?”
If that’s you, I want you to know:
You’re not alone.
You’re not overreacting.
You’re not unspiritual for noticing the contradiction.
This is a hard question. And after years of walking through it myself and walking with others, here’s what I’ve come to believe.
God Uses Imperfect People—But That Doesn’t Mean He Endorses Sin
Scripture is filled with stories of God working through sinful people.
David. Solomon. Peter. Jonah. Samson.
Let’s look at Solomon in particular. He was the son of Bathsheba and David—a marriage that began from David’s adultery and murder. God clearly judged David’s actions, yet later, He still chose to bless the second child of that union. Solomon became king. Through him, we received Proverbs, Ecclesiastes, and Song of Solomon—books filled with divine wisdom.
And yet, Solomon himself failed deeply.
“As Solomon grew old, his wives turned his heart after other gods, and his heart was not fully devoted to the Lord…”
—1 Kings 11:4
Despite being chosen, anointed, and gifted—Solomon was led into idolatry by not guarding his heart. He didn’t practice what he preached: "Above all else, guard your heart, for everything you do flows from it.” Proverbs 4:23. Still, God used him to write some of the most foundational wisdom in the Bible.
This is a pattern in Scripture: God works through people in spite of them, not because of them.
He is sovereign and for whatever reasons at times He chooses to use a man’s gifts while still grieving the condition of his heart. And that was the missing piece for me. I thought, “If God is answering my husband’s prayers, then He must want me to stay.” But the truth is: God’s use of someone is not proof of His approval of their actions.
I came to understand that God was not honoring abuse. Because He never “sides” with abuse. Rather, He was hearing the cries of all involved, mine included. And He was working despite his sin—not because of it.
God is merciful. He is complex. And sometimes He allows blessing to fall where we can’t make sense of it—not as a stamp of approval, but because He is accomplishing something broader, and because He cares for the people being touched by His miracles and provisions. Including, in my story, the people benefiting from those donated airplanes in a remote village. And those who heard a message and came to know Christ.
But even still, none of that ever justified the abuse. Ever.
The Heart of the Matter
In my journey, I discovered something that changed everything:
God working through a person’s public ministry—no matter how fruitful—doesn’t mean He approves of everything they’re doing behind closed doors.
I came to understand that God sometimes works in spite of people, not because of them. He uses broken vessels to reveal His larger purpose—but that doesn’t mean their unrepentant brokenness is excused or ignored. And God doesn’t leave grievous sins to go unpunished.
This truth is deeply personal to me. I lived in the tension of witnessing undeniable blessings while enduring hidden abuse. And over the years, I’ve wrestled with Scripture, studied the heart of God for the abused, and cried out for clarity—asking Him to make sense of my own story.
God Is Patient with Sinners—But He Is Also Just
I know how easy it can be to confuse ministry “fruit” and results with God’s approval.
But here’s the thing: yes, David was still king after his affair with Bathsheba. But there were consequences:
His first child with Bathsheba died.
His family was marked by dysfunction and violence.
He experienced deep personal grief and brokenness.
Though Solomon’s judgment came after his death—it came nonetheless:
“Since this is your attitude… I will most certainly tear the kingdom away from you.”
1 Kings 11:11
The kingdom was divided. Generations suffered.
So while God is patient and full of grace, He does not overlook sin—especially sin committed by spiritual leaders. And neither should we.
A wife can love her husband. We can honor our ministry leaders. But if they are living in unrepentant sin, godly love does not mean tolerating abuse. It never has.
And though it’s painful to admit, some people truly are wolves in sheep’s clothing. Jesus Himself warned us to watch for them—even if they’re the ones closest to us.
The Church Should Never Protect Abusers
If a spiritual leader is:
Abusing his wife or children
Manipulating or spiritually coercing people
Engaging in sexual misconduct
Molesting anyone in the congregation
Then the response shouldn’t be:
“But isn’t God still using him?”
Instead, the question should be:
“What does justice and truth require of us right now?”
And the answer is clear:
Call the police.
Remove him from ministry—immediately.
Protect and support the victims.
Report the abuse to the civil authorities.
“Have nothing to do with the fruitless deeds of darkness, but rather expose them.”
—Ephesians 5:11
Too many churches have tried to “handle” abuse privately. To protect the ministry. To avoid scandal. But what that really does is protect the abuser—and abandon the victims. It leaves victims questioning if they should even speak up—because everyone else has made it clear they side with their abuser.
God never asks us to protect image over integrity. And He never aligns with covering up evil for the sake of influence.
For the Woman Still Wrestling
If you’ve been told to “stay quiet,” or “wait on God to work,” or “protect your husband’s ministry,” or believe as I did that God must want you to endure what’s happening in your marriage—you need to know:
That is not the heart of God.
God does not ask women to be martyrs for someone else’s sin.
God does not condone cruelty behind closed doors, so He can bless ministries publicly.
God does not silence His daughters in the name of “unity” or winning converts.
Speaking up is not sin.
Reporting abuse is not rebellion.
Leaving an abusive marriage is not faithlessness.
It’s courage.
It’s obedience to truth.
It’s a step toward healing and justice.
Accountability Creates the Path to Real Repentance
God is a God of restoration—but restoration doesn’t begin with silence.
It begins with truth.
It begins with consequences.
It begins when those who do harm are removed from positions of power.
Naming abuse is not about vengeance. It’s about creating the conditions where repentance can actually begin. Without truth, there is no real change.
God Sees. God Hears. God Cares.
If you’re still confused because the fruit looks real, the miracles are undeniable, and people are coming to Christ through your husband’s ministry—please hear me:
That does not excuse harm.
That does not mean you’re imagining the abuse.
And that does not mean you have to stay.
“The Lord examines the righteous, but the wicked, those who love violence, He hates with a passion.” —Psalm 11:5
God hates abuse.
He sees behind every closed door.
He hears every cry you’ve prayed through tears.
And He does not require your silence.
You are not crazy.
You are not overreacting.
And you are not alone.
You Are Not Alone: Resources for the Journey
If you’re in a marriage or ministry context where the public image doesn’t match the private pain—you don’t have to walk through that alone.
➡️ For free resources to help if you’re experiencing abuse, click here.
➡️ For a free Clarity Call to find support for your marriage, click here.
Whether you're just starting to name the abuse or already on the path to healing, you deserve support, truth, and safety.
No matter how gifted or charismatic your husband may be, no matter how many people he has brought into the church, or how large his ministry platform is—it never excuses abuse. God is not impressed by platforms that are built on the backs of broken families.
None of it excuses harm.
God is not fooled by sermons that hide sin.
He is not impressed by platforms built on pain.
And He is not absent from your suffering.
There is life on the other side of even a hard truth.
There is hope after harm.
And there is a God who still sees you.
Darah Ashlie
Darah Ashlie is the President of Restored for Good Ministries, a Trauma and Abuse Recovery Coach, and an avid writer with a heart to share the wisdom God has given her through years of walking alongside women in life’s messiest places. She writes with compassion and clarity from her own healing journey and comes alongside women ready to reclaim their voice, rebuild their lives, and live in the freedom God intended. Connect with her at https://www.youtube.com/@darahashlie or on social media @DarahAshlie.