To enter upon the marriage union is one of the most deeply

The words of George Müller, “To enter upon the marriage union is one of the most deeply important events of life. It cannot be too prayerfully treated. Our happiness, our usefulness, our living for God or for ourselves afterwards, are often most intimately connected with our choice. Therefore, in the most prayerful manner, this choice should be made,” resound with the solemnity of a sacred vow. They are not merely a reflection on love, but a divine meditation on covenant, commitment, and the eternal weight of human union. Müller, a man of profound faith and devotion, saw marriage not as a social convenience nor a fleeting affection, but as a holy trust, ordained by God and bound by the unseen threads of purpose. In his view, this bond was not simply between two hearts, but between two souls joined in the service of something greater than themselves.

To understand these words, one must first understand the man who spoke them. George Müller was a 19th-century Christian minister known for his unshakable faith and for founding orphanages that cared for thousands of destitute children in England. He never asked men for money, but relied solely on prayer, trusting that God would provide—and He did. Müller’s life was a living testimony to divine providence, to the belief that faith, when practiced with sincerity and humility, opens the heavens. It was from this deep spiritual well that his view of marriage flowed. He saw it as one of life’s greatest callings—an alliance not of convenience, but of mission; not of mere companionship, but of eternal consequence.

When Müller says that marriage “cannot be too prayerfully treated,” he warns against the haste and thoughtlessness with which so many approach this sacred union. To him, the choice of a spouse was not merely emotional—it was moral, spiritual, and eternal. The one you join your life to shapes your happiness, your usefulness, and even your service to God. For if one walks in faith and the other in doubt, the house will stand divided; if one seeks heaven and the other the world, the journey becomes a burden. Thus, he urges that this decision be made not through passion, pride, or circumstance, but through the quiet discernment of prayer—the listening of the heart to the voice of God.

The ancients, too, held marriage as a covenant rather than a contract. Among the Hebrews, marriage was sealed before God, and the union was seen as a reflection of the divine relationship between Creator and creation. The Apostle Paul wrote that marriage symbolizes the love between Christ and His Church—a love that gives, endures, and redeems. Müller, in his faith, saw the same truth: that a marriage founded on prayer becomes a partnership in holiness, where each soul helps the other rise closer to God. It is a sacred duty, not only to love, but to sanctify one another through that love.

Consider the example of George and Mary Müller themselves. When Müller sought marriage, he prayed earnestly, asking not for beauty, wealth, or status, but for a woman whose heart beat in harmony with his mission. He found in Mary a soul as steadfast in faith as his own. Together they labored for the poor, the orphaned, and the forgotten, living a life of simplicity and service. Their marriage was not free from hardship—there were years of scarcity and loss—but it was rich in unity, in purpose, and in peace. This is the fruit of prayerful choice: not a life without trial, but a bond unbroken by it. Their union was not merely the joining of two people, but the weaving of two callings into one divine tapestry.

Müller’s warning also speaks to the age we live in, where marriage is too often treated as a fleeting emotion rather than a sacred trust. Many enter it for comfort, for passion, or for fear of loneliness, only to find that without shared faith, shared vision, and shared devotion, the flame burns quickly out. The modern soul must learn again the ancient art of discernment—to pause before the altar of life’s great choices, to seek not merely compatibility, but spiritual unity. For the truest marriage is not between two who please each other, but between two who please God together.

So, dear listener, let this be your lesson: approach the choice of marriage not with haste, but with reverence. Pray not for the one who dazzles your eyes, but for the one who steadies your soul. Seek not the fleeting spark, but the steady flame—the partner who will walk beside you through both joy and sorrow, who will strengthen your faith when it wavers, and whose love will lead you ever closer to the Divine. Remember Müller’s wisdom: that happiness, usefulness, and faithfulness are all entwined in this one sacred bond, and that when the choice is made in prayer, the marriage itself becomes a prayer—spoken daily through acts of love, service, and trust.

For in the end, marriage is not merely the union of two hearts—it is the meeting of two journeys, joined by God’s hand, walking together toward eternity. And the one who chooses such a path with prayer will find not only love that endures time, but joy that endures eternity.