Ep. 24 | What to Say When Someone You Love Is Hurting

If you’ve ever gotten a text that made your heart sink, you probably know the feeling.
A friend has cancer.
A family loses a baby.
A marriage falls apart.
Someone receives a frightening diagnosis.
And almost immediately, another thought follows:
What do I even say?
Most of us genuinely want to help. We care deeply. But when someone we love is hurting, we suddenly feel awkward, afraid, and unsure of ourselves.
What if I say the wrong thing?
What if I make it worse?
So we either say too much—or nothing at all.
We’ve learned through our own journey that the problem usually isn’t a lack of compassion. It’s a lack of confidence.

The goal isn’t to fix someone’s pain.

Over the last couple of years, our family has walked through some incredibly difficult days as our daughter Darla spent months in the NICU and underwent multiple major surgeries.
During that time, hundreds of people loved us well.
Others, with the very best intentions, said things that were surprisingly difficult to hear.
We don’t share that to criticize anyone. Before walking through suffering ourselves, we’ve said many of those same things too.
The truth is, most of us simply haven’t been taught how to walk with people through grief.
But one lesson has changed the way we think about comforting others:
Your job isn’t to take away someone’s pain. Your job is to be willing to enter it with them.
That sounds simple, but it changes everything.

Validate before you encourage.

When someone is hurting, our instinct is usually to cheer them up.
We remind them that God is good.
We point out the positive.
We tell them everything will work out.
While those things may be true, timing matters.
One of the most meaningful things people did for us wasn’t offering answers. It was simply acknowledging reality.
“This is so hard.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“I hate that you’re walking through this.”
Those words helped us feel seen.
Before hope can be received, people often need to know someone is willing to sit beside them in the pain.
Christian shared an illustration on the podcast that perfectly captures this.
Imagine grief like a closed door.
When you immediately jump to encouragement, you’re speaking through the door. Your words may be true, but they can’t fully get in.
Validation opens the door.
Once someone feels seen, heard, and safe, encouragement has somewhere to land.

You don’t have to be afraid of someone else’s grief.

One of the biggest surprises during our journey was realizing how uncomfortable suffering makes all of us.
Sometimes we rush people toward hope because we don’t know what to do with sadness.
Sometimes we offer quick answers because silence feels awkward.
Sometimes we try to fix what God never asked us to fix.
But Scripture gives us a different picture.
The Psalms are full of honest prayers.
David asked hard questions.
He cried.
He lamented.
Even Jesus quoted Psalm 22 from the cross: “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”
Lament isn’t a lack of faith.
It’s often one of the deepest expressions of faith.
When someone you love is wrestling with God, you don’t have to panic. You don’t have to rescue them from every hard question.
You aren’t the Holy Spirit.
Your role is simply to love them well while God continues His work.

A few words that help

You don’t need the perfect speech.
Often, simple words carry the most weight.
Try saying:
“I’m so sorry.”
“This is really hard.”
“I don’t even know what to say, but I’m here.”
“I’m praying alongside you.”
“I’m grieving with you.”
Those kinds of responses communicate something every hurting person longs to know:
You’re not alone.

The ministry of presence

Looking back, we don’t remember every conversation we had during those long hospital months.
But we remember the people who made us feel less alone.
The nurses who paused before caring for Darla to ask how we were doing.
The friends who simply sat with us.
The people who weren’t afraid of our tears.
They reminded us of Jesus.
He didn’t rush hurting people.
He entered their pain.
And as His followers, we get to do the same.
If someone came to your mind while reading this, don’t overthink it.
Send the text.
Make the phone call.
Sit with them.
Listen more than you speak.
You don’t have to fix their suffering.
Sometimes the greatest gift you can give is simply your presence.
If you’d like to hear more about this conversation—including practical examples from our own family’s journey—we’d love for you to listen to this episode of The Rooted Family Podcast. We pray it gives you the confidence to love people well when life falls apart.