When children fall and scrape their knees, parents typically meet their cries of pain with love and attention. Hugs, kind words, and a Band-Aid help soften the blow and ease the discomfort. But what should parents do when their adult sons and daughters experience heartache and anguish? How can parents help them through the difficult times that are sure to come?

Challenging seasons are not always proof of failure, but they are always proof of humanity. Pain has a way of leveling the playing field. No amount of faith, success, money, or good intentions can fully shield a person from misfortune. Struggles come to the strong and the weak, the faithful and the doubting, often without warning or explanation.

Watching our kids experience the sting of life is sometimes even harder than dealing with our own battles. It’s natural to try to fix the problem for them, apply a “bandage,” and make everything all right. Sadly, many hurts are too deep and complicated to be patched up and forgotten.

Some wounds are self-inflicted and can take months or years to overcome. Others are caused by friends, family members, or even casual acquaintances, and may never fully heal.

It’s easy for parents to step in and rescue their sons or daughters with the hope that it’s a one-time event. However, when parents don’t let their kids experience the consequences of their actions, they are far more likely to land in trouble again.

Consider Emma. She was a devoted Christian from a strong, loving family—faithful, disciplined, and deeply committed to doing what was right. On the outside, her life reflected stability and spiritual maturity. But beneath the surface, Emma was quietly battling an eating disorder that was consuming her body and her mind.

It started when she was young, as she tried to eat healthy so she could be thin. It gradually developed into a mixture of emotional, mental, and social excuses disguised as a desire to feel in control. Then it slid into perfectionism and high expectations, as her discipline was never enough. She often compared herself to thin supermodels and felt like she was too fat. Her parents made excuses for her eating, saying she was trying to be healthy, and never spoke the truth to her as she continued to lose weight.

Emma’s condition worsened as she became an adult, but she didn’t see it. Her parents tried to rescue her with one type of therapy after another, but none of them helped. Mom and Dad didn’t know what to do as they watched the eating disorder tighten its grip, and Emma’s health began to fail. Eventually, her body reached a breaking point—her liver began to shut down. The pain, both physical and emotional, was taking her to the brink of death. She wanted to stop. She wanted to be free. But she was unable to simply will herself out of it.

When she finally reached out for help as a young adult, she sought counsel within her church community. She was told she had an issue with fear and control, which was leading her into sin. The only direction she received from those within her church community was to repent and change. While there was some truth in that counsel, it missed the deeper reality of her suffering. The words offered conviction without compassion, and clarity without care. Instead of healing, Emma felt more isolated, ashamed, and misunderstood.

Emma’s story is a sobering reminder that anguish does not always respond to simple answers, and that spiritual truth delivered without empathy can unintentionally deepen wounds. The truth is, pain does not discriminate. It finds its way into families with strong values, loving parents, and sincere Christian faith just as easily as anywhere else.

Few experiences cut deeper than seeing a son or daughter enduring serious injury that’s self-inflicted. Mom and Dad often carry a heavy burden of guilt, replaying decisions and wondering where they went wrong. The internal questions can be relentless: “If I had done more… If I had said something differently… If I had been a better parent… If I had spent more time…”

While suffering can be the result of bad decisions, it is not always because of poor choices. Even in the best environments, the roads we travel can be difficult. As we see in the book of Job, blame is a tempting response to troubling times, but it rarely brings healing. Compassion, humility, and hard truth do far more to restore hope.

Perhaps the greatest lessons for parents during these times of trial come from the Parable of the Prodigal Son. This well-known biblical story shows two different stages for the son—and two responses from his father.

Before Brokenness

As the story opens, the youngest son takes his inheritance and goes on his way to have fun and live life to the fullest in debauchery. Everything seems fine until he runs out of money and his foolish decisions eventually land him in a pigsty. In Jewish tradition, pigs are unclean animals, so the son’s position is seen as cursed. It’s a picture of the worst place you can ever imagine living. No parent wants to see their child in a state of ruin. But it happens regularly.

One of the hardest lessons during trying seasons is learning the difference between loving someone and rescuing him or her. Love does not always mean stepping in. Sometimes, love requires stepping back. That kind of love feels counterintuitive and excruciating. Everything within us wants to shield those we love from consequences, pain, or loss. Yet there are moments when intervening too quickly delays growth.

If the father had arrived and rescued his son from his low position, the epiphany the boy experienced would never have occurred. Scripture tells us that he came to his senses. His father had to let his child endure the pain and shame until his thinking completely changed.

Letting go does not mean abandoning or withdrawing prayer, concern, or speaking truth. It means recognizing that transformation often requires a personal reckoning that seeks healing from the Lord. Like the Prodigal Son, growth frequently begins at the end of our children’s resources, when they finally admit their need for help beyond themselves. But if parents continue to rescue and provide, their children will never experience that reckoning!

Pain has a way of stripping away illusions—especially the misconception that your kids may have that they are in control. In those moments of brokenness, they have to confront their limitations and their humanity. They realize how desperately they need God’s grace. This realization can soften hearts that once stood proud. This is what Christian parents want their sons and daughters to experience. When it happens, it should bring about changed lives.

After Brokenness

Once the Prodigal Son realized he was better off as a servant in his father’s house than in his current state with the pigs, his life changed. When he began to think differently, his father welcomed him home, rejoiced with him, and fully restored him. As people in trouble reach the end of themselves and seek permanent change, a new world opens where parents can step in and offer help freely, without shame.

When Emma reached the end of her resources, nothing had helped. She felt hopeless. Only then did she finally give in and agree to try whatever her parents suggested. They found her the help she needed—people who would walk with her, hand in hand, day by day, encouraging her to practice biblical truth with compassion. She was ready to change and be restored.

Pain reminds us of our shared humanity. Every person experiences it in some form, whether it’s grief, regret, addiction, pride, fear, or selfishness. Recognizing this reality should foster compassion rather than comparison. It dismantles the illusion that some people “have it all together” while others do not. We are all works in progress.

Perhaps one of the most comforting truths in trying times is that we are not alone. Even when people fail us, or relationships fracture, there remains a constant presence that never abandons. In our moments of deepest fear and uncertainty, hope is often sustained by the quiet assurance that we are seen, loved, and not forsaken by our Father in heaven.

Painful seasons will come for our sons and daughters. These times will test their faith, strain relationships, and challenge assumptions. But they will also offer opportunities for humility, spiritual growth, reconciliation, and profound love.