Understanding Her Kids (Part 1): Loss

Read Isaiah 61:1-3. The speaker describes good news for the poor, care for the brokenhearted, freedom for captives, and comfort for those who mourn. The passage uses vivid pictures of sorrow and renewal. It does not say that grief vanishes on command. It shows God’s concern for people who are hurting and names comfort as part of his work.

Chapter 3 of The Smart Stepdad focuses on children’s loss. Deal’s example of “tear soup” gathers memories, reflection, regret, and love around grief. The picture makes room for more than one feeling at once. A child may miss a parent, a former home, a familiar routine, or the family they hoped to have. They may love their current family and still feel sad about what changed. These emotions do not cancel each other out.

When a child resists a new rule, family activity, or attempt at closeness, it can be tempting to see only defiance. Sometimes a boundary is needed. But Isaiah’s attention to the brokenhearted invites another question: could pain be part of what is happening? You do not have to guess the answer or make the child explain. You can make room for a feeling without agreeing to every behavior. “You seem upset. I’m here if you want to talk” offers care without demanding disclosure.

Comfort is often quiet. It can mean keeping a promise, allowing a child to remember someone they miss, or not treating an old tradition as a threat to the new family. Avoid rushing to replace a loss with a cheerful plan. A celebration can be good and still bring sadness. A child can need space before joining in. Your steady presence communicates that difficult feelings do not make the child a problem you want to push away.

Isaiah’s words about renewal are hope, not a timetable. A stepdad cannot repair every loss, and the child’s grief may return at birthdays, holidays, or ordinary moments. Let your care be consistent without requiring a visible result. Ask your spouse what support is appropriate, especially if the child has a parent who should be involved. Be willing to listen more than you explain.

Grief can be heavy for children and adults alike. If grief feels overwhelming or lasts in a way that disrupts daily life, speak with a pastor, counselor, or trusted friend. Do not ask a child to carry your disappointment or reassure you that you belong. You can bring your own feelings to another adult and offer the child room to mourn. God’s care for the brokenhearted gives us reason to meet sorrow with patience rather than fear.

Read Isaiah 61:1-3. The passage describes God’s anointed servant bringing good news, binding up the brokenhearted, and comforting those who mourn. The picture is not of grief being ignored or hurried away. Comfort begins by taking sorrow seriously. The passage also points toward renewal: ashes give way to beauty, mourning to gladness, and a faint spirit to praise. The movement toward hope does not make the pain imaginary or shameful.

In The Smart Stepdad, Ron L. Deal centers this chapter on children’s grief and uses the image of Tear Soup to hold memories, reflection, regret, and love. Let that image guide your posture. A child’s memories may include love for family members and regret about what has changed. You do not have to settle every feeling or make the past easier to discuss. Your first work is to make room for what the child is carrying.

That can be hard when you want to help. A man may feel pressure to solve the problem, restore peace, or show that he can lead. But grief is not a chore you can finish for someone else. Isaiah’s words give you a different picture of strength: care that draws near to the brokenhearted. You can listen without correcting a memory, arguing with a feeling, or asking the child to feel better for your sake. Patient presence is real work.

This does not mean you must have perfect words. You might say, “I’m glad you told me,” or, “Would you like to tell me more?” Then listen. If a child does not want to talk, give space and stay kind. Let your actions show that the child’s sadness does not threaten your place in the family. You are not competing with a memory by caring for the person who holds it.

Isaiah’s passage speaks of comfort and, eventually, of a life rooted like an oak. An oak grows over time; that image can remind you that trust and steadiness are built through repeated care. You cannot command a child’s grief to end. You can offer a dependable presence while the child finds a way to carry love and loss together.

If grief feels too heavy for you or the child to carry alone, talk with a pastor, counselor, or trusted friend. Seeking help can be part of faithful care. Today, practice listening long enough to understand before you try to help. Your courage may look less like taking charge and more like staying present with tenderness.