When Our Children Pass Through Deep Pain – Kelly Todd

The deepest theological questions often come from the mouths of children. Although my nine-year-old daughter had never heard of the word “theodicy,” her question one evening went straight to the heart of God’s goodness. Sitting together at the foot of her bed, we had been praying once again that God would heal a painful health issue she had been battling for two years. Despite hundreds of such prayers, her condition had progressed. That night, her fears prompted the deepest of questions: “Does God not love me? Is that why he isn’t answering my prayers?”

Although my heart ached for her, that question wasn’t an unfamiliar one. Long before becoming a mother, I was the little girl lying in bed with tear-soaked pillows, wondering why God hadn’t answered my prayers. Suffering has been woven into my story since infancy, when I was given less than a ten percent chance of survival. Since then, I’ve had nine cancer surgeries, ongoing daily medical challenges, and most recently radiation treatment. I know what it’s like to wonder why God hasn’t brought healing.

When I gazed down at my daughter, whose eyes traced mine for some semblance of comfort, I saw myself in her pain. I couldn’t give her healing, but I knew where she could find help in time of need. The following tools, hard-learned through my own hardships, have guided my daughter through times of intense suffering. My prayer is that these guidelines help parents encourage their children, build for them a solid foundation for facing trials, and prepare their families for Christ’s eternal rest.

Savor the Scriptures

As in my daughter’s case, a long battle with suffering can stir up questions about God’s nearness and love. To guide children through such troubling moments, ingrain the Scriptures on their little hearts and minds. As a child, one of the most transformative things my mother ever did for me was to plaster Bible verses throughout our house — anywhere she knew I would look. The word of God is not bound or bedridden but living and active, even in a home with tears (2 Timothy 2:9; Hebrews 4:12).

To implant Scripture in a little suffering heart, invite your son or daughter to picture what a verse reveals about God. For example, consider Zephaniah 3:17: “The Lord your God is in your midst, a mighty one who will save; he will rejoice over you with gladness; he will quiet you by his love; he will exult over you with loud singing.” A mental picture of singing in this verse can help children to conceptualize and draw strength from God’s grace: “Do you know how Mommy sings over you and tucks you in each night? I do that because I love you, but do you know what? Your heavenly Father sings over you and loves you far more than I ever could!” Don’t discount children’s abilities to grasp profound truths through biblical imagery.

Teach Them to Pray

When we moved to a new city, my daughter worried about how her peers would perceive her diagnosis. Hopping out of the school car line felt like embarking on one of the biggest challenges of her life. As we locked eyes, I reminded her that even though I couldn’t hold her hand as she walked down the hallway, she had the best helper in the world: the Holy Spirit (John 14:26). “You can talk to God anytime, anywhere,” I told her. “He is near and ready to listen” (Psalm 34:15–18; Psalm 145:18).

Children in pain need assurance that God is eager to hear their prayers (1 John 5:14). Through the years, I’ve shared with my daughter stories about how I incorporated into my prayer life what John Piper calls the “wartime walkie-talkie” — direct access to God in the middle of the battle. Although Pastor John speaks of this dynamic in missions, I found it equally relevant in elementary school. A nurse escorted me from class multiple times a day to tend to my medical issues, and as curious kids whispered to each other and pointed at me, I felt defeated. But I also remembered I wasn’t alone, and I prayed under my breath, “Lord, please be with me. Make me strong. Make me brave.” And he did.

God doesn’t always answer prayers as we expect. In my daughter’s case, I reminded her that God’s character does not change (Malachi 3:6) and that nothing can separate us from the love of Christ (Romans 8:35–39), even when healing does not come in the way we hoped. He promises never to leave or forsake us (Hebrews 13:5–6). Sharing personal stories like these can help your children to place their burdens upon the Lord (1 Peter 5:7), reminding them that they aren’t alone, that Christ is Savior and sustainer, and that he’s always ready to receive their prayers.

Give Them God Himself

One night, as I was tucking my daughter into bed, she pointed to an old scar from where I had open-heart surgery. She asked, “Mommy, why does the cancer keep coming back?” I gently responded, “I don’t know, sweetie.” Because that’s the truth. I don’t know. I continued with a bedside lesson on Genesis 3, but I knew that’s not what she was asking. She needed what the Puritans often called “experimental religion”: theology that moves the heart.

As a parent, it can feel daunting when your children need quick (and deep) theological answers to satisfy their little hearts. I can’t give my daughter every answer she is looking for about her suffering. But there’s still plenty to tell. I can confidently say, “I don’t know how your story will unfold, but I know the one who does, and he loves you so much.”

As simple as it sounds, the best answer for our children’s spiritual questions is God himself. Help your child get to know the one who holds the universe in his hands. Point them to Jesus, who took on flesh, entered our broken world, and suffered for us. In Christ, we see the goodness of God made visible (John 14:9). This is where our great comfort lies — not in explaining the intricacies of theodicy, but in knowing that God is unimaginably good, that he is holding us in his hands, and that there is no safer place to be (Psalm 34:8).

Share How Suffering Shapes the Heart

In the midst of her suffering, our daughter notices people the world overlooks. Her heart quickly swells with concern when she sees someone in pain. She even cries for these image-bearers in her nightly prayers. And I have no doubt that God formed this softness in her through her suffering. Similarly, the very things I once despised about my body — my health challenges and scars — God has used to produce fruit in my life and keep my heart close to his. He’s also used my suffering to help my daughter through hers.

Parents can help their children connect these providential dots. God brings beauty from ashes, and he often works in ways outside of our earnest requests (Isaiah 55:9). As David Mathis says, “Not one drop, not one ounce, not one moment of your sorrow and suffering will be wasted.” Encourage your children to take confidence in knowing God is working for their good, conforming them into the image of Christ, and preparing them for eternal glory (Romans 8:28–29; 2 Corinthians 4:17).

Hold Space for Sadness

In response to your child’s grief over trials, you might feel the human instinct to say, “Everything will be okay.” And in light of the resurrection, thank God that’s true. For God’s children, everything will work out for their good and his glory (Revelation 21:4). But we shouldn’t be afraid to sit with our kids in their sadness. God made sad feelings too. No emotion is too big for God to handle. In fact, throughout the Bible, lament signifies an abiding trust in God (Psalm 10; 13; 22).

The testimony of Joni Eareckson Tada has left an indelible mark on my life. Now my daughter holds Joni’s words close to her heart as well, particularly in regard to lament: “God has opened the door for you to lament, to bring to him your doubts and questions, wisely, honestly, and in humility. He bends his ear to his suffering people.” When we bring our fears and weaknesses to God’s capable hands, we show our kids that we’re children before God too.

I can’t change my daughter’s situation any more than I can predict if my cancer will return. But even if our circumstances don’t change, my daughter and I have the same set of eyes: the eyes of faith (2 Corinthians 4:18). And together we will look to the author and perfecter of our mutual faith (Hebrews 12:2). We’ll look to the cross together. We’ll persevere in prayer together. When trials come, we’ll suffer together. And we know our hope is secure because it isn’t found in the absence of suffering, but in the faithful hand of our heavenly Father.

Read More

Desiring God

Generated by Feedzy