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The Martian: Training for the Mission You Can't Predict

  • Writer: Tyler Woodley
    Tyler Woodley
  • Oct 26
  • 4 min read
Astronaut smiling in helmet, desert background at sunset. Warm orange hues create a hopeful mood.

There's this moment early in The Martian where Mark Watney wakes up alone on Mars, realizes his crew left him for dead, and takes stock of his situation. He's got limited food, limited oxygen, no communication with Earth, and no way home. Any reasonable person would spiral. But Watney doesn't. He cracks a joke about being the first space pirate, then gets to work solving the next problem in front of him.

 

I've been thinking about that a lot lately. Not because I'm stranded on Mars, though some mornings with four kids under ten feel close, but because Watney's response reveals something crucial about how we face the impossible situations life throws at us. And marriage, fatherhood, family life? Those are exactly the kind of impossible situations that require the same posture Watney brings to Mars.

 

What strikes me most about Watney isn't his engineering brilliance. It's his attitude. He never gives in to despair. He doesn't lose hope or give up. He just doggedly keeps solving the next problem in front of him. He doesn't get overwhelmed by the massive problem of being stranded on another planet. He breaks it down. He needs food to survive. Still too big. Potatoes need water. Still too big. Water needs hydrogen. Now we're getting somewhere.

 

That's a basic engineering approach. Anyone with moderately developed reasoning ability or training in problem-solving can do that. What sets Watney apart is the cheerful humor he brings to everything he does. Nothing is defeatist. He's listening to terrible disco music and making jokes about being a botanist while conducting chemistry experiments that could kill him. The man is solving impossible problems with a smile on his face.

 

But here's the thing that really matters: Watney didn't develop this attitude overnight. He didn't wake up the morning after being stranded on Mars and suddenly have all this virtue. He worked hard to develop it over a lifetime in preparation for this situation. No one could have predicted that this would be the thing he was training for specifically, but he spent his whole life training to handle exactly this kind of situation. And that's the only kind of man who could handle this kind of situation.

 

When I apply that to my life, to my role as a husband and father, it changes everything. You can't show up at the altar, or even on a first date, having never trained in any kind of virtue and expecting things to go well. If you want to be a good husband and a good father, you must train for it. You need to develop the Christlike posture of love for your wife and children in all circumstances. You need to develop the discipline of putting them first, of choosing what is good for them.

 

That isn't something that comes naturally to most men afflicted with original sin. We don't want to put others first. We don't want to sacrifice. We don't want to climb on the cross. However, St. Paul says in Ephesians 5:25 that that is exactly what marriage is: "Husbands, love your wives, as Christ loved the Church and gave himself up for her."

 

Gave himself up. That's the mission. That's what we're training for.

 

Looking back, I wish I had started training in the virtues of discipline, self-control, and sacrifice long before I got married. I’ve learned—sometimes the hard way—how important it is to be willing to suffer for the good of someone else. When I met my wife and we began our family, I realized that all those years of habits and attitudes I had built would either help or hinder me in the impossible situations that inevitably come with marriage and fatherhood.

 

For me, the reality of being critically lacking in these virtues hit after I was already married. It wasn’t too late, but it meant starting right away. I found that God, in His way, gave me a crash course—plenty of opportunities to practice and grow. Through it all, I’ve experienced firsthand the grace needed to mature and strive to be the husband and father I’m called to be, even when it feels impossible.

 

On one hand, it's hard. Sacrifice is hard. We have concupiscence, sin tendencies, our ego, personal gratifications and habits and bad coping mechanisms. On the other hand, it's the simplest thing in the world once you commit to it. Once you decide that your mission is loving your wife and children the way Christ loves the Church, the path becomes clear.

 

Mark Watney survived Mars because he trained his whole life to face the impossible with hope, humor, and relentless problem-solving. He broke down overwhelming challenges into manageable steps and refused to give in to despair.

 

That's the same posture we need in marriage and fatherhood. Train now for the mission you can't predict. Develop the virtues of patience, sacrifice, and selfless love. Practice choosing what's good for others over your own comfort. Build the habit of facing challenges with hope instead of despair.

 

Because when the impossible situation comes, and it will come, you'll be ready. Not because you're perfect, but because you've been training. And God will give you the grace to do what seemed impossible.

 

Just like Watney on Mars, you'll break it down, solve the next problem, and keep moving forward with a smile on your face. That's what our families need. That's what we're called to. That's the mission.


 
 
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