You still love them. That needs to be the first thing said, because everything that follows is complicated and the love isn't. The person you married is still the person you married, still known to you, still yours, still the one you chose. What has changed is something beneath the surface of daily life, something that doesn't always show up in ordinary moments but is present in the ones that matter most. The shared language you once had for the deepest things is no longer shared, and that loss is real even when everything else in the marriage is intact.
Faith, when it is genuinely held, is not a compartment. It touches everything, how you understand suffering, what you do with gratitude, where you turn when things go wrong, what you believe about who you are and what your life is for. When that foundation is shared with a spouse, it creates a kind of intimacy that is hard to replicate through anything else. When it stops being shared, something changes in the architecture of the marriage. Not the love. But the way the love is housed.
The grief of this is particular and often private. You may feel unable to talk about it honestly with your believing friends because it sounds like a complaint against your spouse, and you don't want to frame it that way, because it isn't. Your spouse hasn't done something wrong by arriving at a different place with their faith. People change. Belief is complicated. The journey each person takes with God is genuinely their own, and you know that. But knowing it doesn't make the gap easier to live inside.
There is also the question of prayer itself, what it means to pray for someone you love who doesn't share your belief in the One you're praying to. Whether it feels presumptuous or loving or both at the same time. Whether God receives that kind of prayer and what it is supposed to accomplish. These are honest questions, and they deserve more than easy answers. If you have found yourself carrying the spiritual weight of the marriage entirely on your own, praying for both of you because only one of you is praying, the prayer for when you're praying alone for both of you speaks directly to that particular loneliness.
If you need somewhere to bring this, the love and the grief of it together, the questions without clean answers, you can request a prayer for your marriage. Bring the whole of it, not just the part that's easy to explain.
Scripture speaks of a dignity that a believing spouse confers on a marriage, not a guarantee, not a formula, but a presence that matters and is seen. What that means in practice is less about outcome and more about posture: continuing to bring the marriage honestly before God, continuing to love the person fully rather than as a project, continuing to hold the gap between where you are spiritually and where your spouse is without turning that gap into a wall.
Loving someone well across a faith difference is one of the quieter and harder forms of faithfulness there is. It requires holding your own belief without wielding it, praying without performing the praying, remaining open to conversations about faith without engineering them. It requires loving the actual person in front of you rather than the version of them you're hoping prayer will eventually produce. That is demanding work, and it deserves to be named as such. Sometimes in the middle of it, the question quietly shifts from how to love them well to why God is allowing this at all, why faith brought you here, and why what God is doing in your marriage makes no sense from where you are standing. If that is where you are, the prayer for when you don't understand what God is doing is an honest place to bring it.
You are not failing your spouse by grieving the shared faith you no longer have. You are not failing God by finding this hard. You are not failing your marriage by carrying questions about how to sustain spiritual intimacy when the spiritual ground has shifted. These are the honest contents of the situation you are actually in, and bringing them honestly is the only kind of prayer available from where you are standing.
God is not absent from a marriage where only one person is praying. The love you have for your spouse, full, patient, grief-carrying love, is not without its own kind of witness. And the prayer you bring for this marriage, even when you're not sure exactly what to ask for, is not without its own kind of reach.
Keep loving them. Keep bringing it. That is enough to do with today. The marriage prayers gathered here hold space for exactly this, for the one who is still believing for two, in a marriage where the spiritual ground has shifted.