Emma thought we weren’t going to the playground. Just as we were about to leave, she broke down 😭. In her little world, plans had changed—and she couldn’t handle it. I felt torn. Part of me wanted to correct her reaction right away. Another part knew how frustrating change feels—even for me. I slowed down. I mirrored her sadness, told her it was normal, and she softened ❤️. And in that moment, I saw myself. I too break down when plans shift. But Jesus doesn’t dismiss me—He meets me with compassion. “The Lord is near to the brokenhearted” (Ps 34:18). 👉 More on the blog.
There was a moment with Emma that taught me something about parenting and about myself. She thought we weren’t going to the playground. Just as we were about to leave, she suddenly broke down in tears. In her little mind, the plans had changed, and she simply couldn’t reconcile it.
At first, I felt the urge to correct her immediately. I wanted to tell her, “Don’t cry, it’s not such a big deal.” But then I paused. Because really—don’t I also feel frustrated when my own plans fall apart? I thought about how disappointed I feel when it starts raining right before a run. Her reaction was not so different from mine, only less filtered.
Validating Emotions Instead of Dismissing Them
In that pause, I decided to affirm her feelings. I told her, “It’s normal to feel sad when plans change.” Almost instantly, her crying softened. It wasn’t that the situation had changed, but that she felt understood.
Validation didn’t mean I agreed with her meltdown. It simply meant I recognized her sadness as real. And that recognition made all the difference.
Mirroring and Modeling
I also realized that mirroring her feelings helped her name what she was experiencing. Saying, “You must be feeling really sad,” gave her language for the emotion and showed her that it wasn’t something to hide.
Then I added modeling. I told her, “Daddy also feels sad when his plans change.” She looked at me, thoughtful, as if realizing for the first time that her struggles weren’t so different from mine.
Encouragement Over Correction
Finally, I encouraged her. I told her she was doing well. I reminded her that it was okay to feel sad and that she was managing it. Slowly, she calmed down completely and we were able to move forward.
This reminded me that children don’t always need us to shut their emotions down. They need us to walk with them through those emotions, to give words, to mirror, and to gently guide. Correction will come later—but in the heat of the moment, connection comes first.
How should the Christian think about this?
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A Christian Reflection
When I think about moments like these, I’m reminded of how God relates to us. He doesn’t dismiss our emotions. The Psalms are filled with raw cries of sadness, anger, and fear—and God doesn’t silence them. Instead, He gives us language for them, He validates our struggles, and He meets us in compassion.
Psalm 34:18 says, “The Lord is near to the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit.” That is the pattern for us as parents. We are to be near to our children in their brokenheartedness. We don’t scold them for feeling; we walk with them through it.
As I parent Emma, I see how much I need the Father’s patience with me. I’m often quick to want things “fixed,” to want neatness instead of mess. But God doesn’t correct me immediately when I stumble. He draws near, reminds me of His love, and gently restores me.
That’s the call for us as Christian parents—not to raise children who never cry, but to raise children who know they are deeply seen and deeply loved, even in their tears.