“They’ll understand” may be the most thoughtless assumption in marriage and family life …

Chris Hunt had a habit of saying yes to people at work, even when doing so meant disappointing his wife. During his 33 years in teaching, he became accustomed to demands from colleagues and supervisors, the pressure to complete another report, and the expectation that professional responsibilities would take precedence. His wife sometimes went out with family or friends while he remained at home working. He disliked letting people down, yet the person he was most willing to disappoint was the woman he had married.

Looking back on those years in a 2013 article for The Guardian, Hunt admitted, “I just thought my wife would understand, which she did.” Then came a revealing expression of regret: “God knows how she put up with it.” He had counted on his wife’s understanding for years without adequately considering what he was asking her to endure.

That small assumption, “They’ll understand,” can become one of the most convenient excuses for misplaced priorities. Someone asks for a favor, an additional commitment, or a share of our time. We consider their circumstances, imagine their disappointment if we refuse, and decide to accommodate them. Then we remember that our decision will affect our spouse or children. Instead of giving their needs the same careful consideration, we reassure ourselves that “they’ll understand.”

The assumption is particularly seductive because it often proves correct. A loving wife may understand why her husband wants to help a friend. A devoted husband may understand why his wife feels obligated to assist a relative. Children may understand that their parents have responsibilities beyond the home. Such understanding is a beautiful expression of love, but it can also become something we exploit without realizing it.

Consider the difference in how we respond to disappointment. When someone outside the family asks for our time, we may feel compelled to explain why we cannot oblige. We worry about appearing selfish or unhelpful. Yet when accepting that request means breaking a promise at home, we may offer our spouse or children a hurried explanation and expect them to accept it. We have carefully considered the feelings of the person making the request while barely examining the feelings of those who must bear its consequences.

This can happen with time, money, attention, and emotional energy. A person may readily contribute to a cause while overlooking a financial concern at home, remain available to friends while repeatedly postponing conversations with a spouse, or volunteer for activities that consume time already promised to the children. None of these commitments is necessarily wrong. The danger lies in the repeated presumption that the family will make the sacrifice without being consulted, and that their willingness to do so means the sacrifice hardly matters.

Children are especially vulnerable to this reasoning. A parent may assume that a son will understand another missed activity or that a daughter will accept another postponed promise. Children often do try to understand. They may even defend a parent’s absence, knowing how busy or helpful that parent is. But their ability to explain a parent’s choices does not mean they feel no disappointment. A child can understand why something happened and still wish that, just once, the parent had chosen differently.

Spouses can experience a similar conflict. They may sincerely admire a husband’s generosity or a wife’s dedication to others while quietly grieving the attention those commitments consume. Their patience may conceal the disappointment rather than eliminate it. When we treat that patience as permission to continue, we risk mistaking someone’s willingness to love us through repeated disappointments for evidence that those disappointments are insignificant.

For Christians, the question reaches beyond courtesy or effective time management. Marriage involves a sacred commitment to love and cherish one’s spouse, second only to devotion to God. Ephesians 5 calls husbands to sacrificial love and describes marriage in terms of profound mutual responsibility. Parents, likewise, are entrusted with the care and nurture of their children. These obligations should influence how we respond to the needs and requests of others.

There will be legitimate occasions when work, service, or another person’s urgent circumstances require sacrifices at home. Families can face those occasions with compassion and generosity. But a sacrifice made willingly after thoughtful collaboration differs greatly from one imposed because somebody assumed the family would understand. A spouse deserves the opportunity to express a concern before a commitment is made. Children deserve to know that their wishes have been heard, even when circumstances prevent a parent from granting them.

The habit can begin to change with a question asked before agreeing to something: “What am I expecting my family to give up so that I can say yes?” That question does not automatically require refusal. It requires us to acknowledge whose time, resources, or expectations are involved and to consider whether we have the right to commit them without collaboration.

Chris Hunt’s admission is memorable because his wife actually did understand. Her understanding was never the problem. The troubling part was how easily he relied upon it while failing to give her the consideration he extended to others.

Perhaps the most searching question is one we seldom ask when reassuring ourselves that our loved ones will understand: Have we taken the trouble to understand them?

Scotty