Six Ways to Shepherd Kids Through Loss
I have a son who survived an oftentimes fatal, catastrophic pediatric seizure disorder as a baby. The condition has left him with ongoing seizures, and after a particularly terrible seizure episode recently, one of his brothers sat in my room in tears, unable to sleep. Between watching this brother seize and also losing his oldest brother to cancer four years ago, my son said, “This life is so hard.”
Shepherding our kids through pain and suffering is hard. For parents, it can feel like we carry a double portion of grief—our own and that of our grieving kids. Whatever may come, as parents we are called to lovingly “train up [our children]” whom God has entrusted to our care through every high and low (Prov. 22:6). What a privilege to walk with them, pointing them to Christ, despite the pain that often accompanies this calling.
Each child has different and unique needs, and while this list is certainly not exhaustive, here are six ways I have worked to shepherd my own kids' hearts through pain and loss.
1. God's Character Must Be Foundational
When a family faces suffering and loss, questions inevitably arise: Can God be trusted? How is he good when this is what he allows?
I've struggled with some of those questions in my own wrestling, yet I have the advantage of decades of walking with the Lord. My kids have only known Jesus for a few years.
As I urge my own heart to recall, I also remind my boys that “the Lord is good to all and his mercy is over all that he has made” (Ps. 145:9). In the midst of suffering, we must point our children toward the foundational character of God. Even when we struggle to believe or understand it ourselves, we can teach our children to speak what is true until their emotions fall in line with their beliefs.
2. It's Okay to Admit You Don't Have All the Answers
As parents, it can feel like we need to have the right answers in order to point our kids to Christ. Yet in the midst of suffering, we simply don't have all the answers. We can feel as confused as our children about the suffering God has allowed.
I used to fear that exposing my own struggles would somehow impart doubt into the hearts of my boys. As we have all matured, however, I have learned that allowing my kids an age-appropriate glimpse of my own wrestling can be a beautiful opportunity to model the frail weakness of human effort and the all-sufficient faithfulness of God.
Our kids need to see authentic faith, not perfectly performed faith. They need to understand that learning to trust God involves meeting him on the wrestling mat. While we know God will ultimately win the match, showing up to wrestle is a necessary part of growing in faith.
God doesn't expect perfect faith or polished belief—even from parents. While we are certainly called to model faith for our children, that modeling includes both steadfast faithfulness and the battle for belief. What better place for children to learn these lessons than from their own parents?
3. Ask Your Children About Their Feelings Toward God
I have made it a practice to periodically ask my children, “How is your heart toward God right now?” Often, our feelings about God during times of pain and disappointment are the spaces where the enemy can plant seeds of doubt about God's love and character. The enemy’s delight, after all, is to “steal, kill and destroy” (John 10:10). I want to know my boys’ hearts so I can point them back to Jesus in the places where they have strayed or believed lies.
When we lost our oldest son to cancer, I asked one of my sons this question. He replied, “I know God is faithful, but he wasn't faithful in this.”
"It sure feels that way, doesn't it?" I responded.
We then had the opportunity to talk about God's faithfulness. God never promised to heal his brother here on earth, despite how much we longed to see him do that. He did, however, promise to hold him to the very end, and God was faithful to his promise. We also talked about how God has healed his brother in heaven. There is faithfulness we cannot yet see but is no less true.
Take the time to hear what your kids are feeling about God in the midst of loss and suffering. Let them know that what they are feeling makes sense given the loss they are experiencing. Then, prayerfully and gently point their hearts back to the truth.
4. Pray With Your Kids
After the emergency of my son’s recent seizure had passed, I saw my other sons in the hallway watching with horror and tears. It never gets easier to watch a seizure.
I pulled them both into a hug and prayed for their brother and for their hearts. I confessed I was afraid and struggling to trust God at that moment, and asked God to give us all the faith we needed to trust him.
As parents, there are countless moments when we have no idea what to do or say. At times, there is no clear way to reassure our kids. As we grieve and struggle as parents, we also bear the weight of trying to comfort our children's suffering hearts. In these moments, the only thing I know to do is pray with my boys. Part of that prayer is often, “Jesus, I don't know what to do right now. I need your help.”
These prayers teach our children that there are times when all we can do is cry out to Jesus. Going to the Lord with our children over and over with our prayers can show them what faithfulness looks like, even in the midst of difficulty and loss.
5. Point Their Hearts to Eternity.
As a child, I was heavily influenced by false gospels. I assumed that because I was a follower of Jesus, he would somehow protect or shelter me from life's cruelest trials. Outside of bike crashes or the occasional set of stitches, I suffered very little.
My kids have faced far more hardship than I did as a child. They have tasted some of life's most bitter realities. I hate this for them. I grieve that they have had to grow up more quickly than other children.
The redemption I can find in this, however, is that their hearts are not nearly as tethered to the world as mine was. We have been able to talk often about salvation and eternity, and since they know and love Jesus, they trust that whatever sorrows they face here on earth are the worst they will ever experience. While God certainly has goodness for them in the midst of hardship, this goodness is often veiled or cannot yet be understood. One day, because of Christ, these sorrows and pains will be redeemed. The grief and loss my kids have had to bear have provided them with the opportunity to look beyond what this world can offer toward something far greater.
Continually reminding our children that this world is not their home is a gift we can give them. Reminding them that Jesus has so much more for them and exhorting them to remain steadfast in the midst of pain is one way to shepherd them in sorrow. It doesn't fix the grief or lift the sadness. It doesn't make it easier to endure, but it does remind both their hearts and ours that this is not all there is. We have an eternity with Christ to anticipate.
6. Entrust Their Stories to Jesus.
Entrusting my boys' stories to God is sometimes hard for me. After my son's tearful expression of despair, I texted a friend and said, “I'm really struggling to trust God is writing a good story for my kids.”
I am still working through hurt in my own heart as I continue to process the pain we have endured as a family. How can the storylines of childhood cancer and catastrophic seizure disorders write good stories? I know the right theological answers. Knowing good theology is of great value, but good theology does not protect a heart from the pain of being broken. I still struggle with feelings of confusion about the story God has written. It's painful. I know that somehow, these pieces of my kids' stories are not outside of the will of a good and loving God, but I don't understand this yet.
As I shepherd my kids, I exhort my own heart: God is only good and only kind. Then I remind myself that faith flowing from understanding is no faith at all. God has not asked me to trust him because I understand what he is up to; he's asked me to trust him because he's trustworthy and good.
I have no idea how God is using our suffering to write a good story for my kids. I don't know how God can bring redemption to these pieces of loss and brokenness, but he has promised that for those who love him, “all things work together for good” (Rom. 8:28). I may not understand the outcome or God’s timing, so for now, I battle my own heart's bent of questioning and turn my eyes to what I cannot see or understand. This is no easy task, yet it is one worth battling for the sake of shepherding my kids through the difficulties of life. What a privilege it is to point their hearts toward Christ, knowing he is truly their only hope.