Clinging to God after the death of a child can feel impossible in the early days of grief. When the pain is suffocating, when forgiveness feels out of reach, and when trust feels fragile at best, you may wonder how you are supposed to keep going at all.
And yet, this is not about “getting over” your child. It is not about reaching some spiritual level where you no longer ache. Clinging to God after the death of a child is about learning how to live anchored in Him, one breath, one hour, one day at a time.
There are heart skills that help us do that. They are not steps to complete in order. They are intertwined, weaving in and out of one another as God gently carries us forward. Today we are continuing my conversation with Linda Dillow about five of these heart skills. (The first three were discussed in the previous blog that you can read here.)
Lament: Worship In a Minor Key
Many of us were never taught how to lament. We were taught celebration, praise, and joy. I loved how Linda shared that lament is worship in a minor key.
When you bring your sorrow, your anger, even your “why?” to God, you are still acknowledging that He is God. You are saying, “You are big enough to have stopped this. You are big enough to hear my pain.”
David did it. Jesus did it. “Is there any other way?” is not a lack of faith. It is honest surrender.
Clinging to God after the death of a child begins when we stop pretending and start being brutally honest with Him. Write your own psalm if you need to. Cry. Question. Sit in silence. He does not ask you to sanitize your grief before bringing it to Him.
Often, we want God to stay “over there” and fix us. Instead, He comes down into the suffocating darkness and joins us there. That is where intimacy begins to grow.
Trust: Leaning Back Into His Love
For many grieving parents, the word faith feels heavy. You may think, “If I had enough faith, this wouldn’t have happened.” (Unfortunately, there are Christians who will accuse us of a lack of faith as well.)
But trust feels different. Trust is something we can do, even when our hands are shaking. We can lean back into God. We can fall into Him.
Clinging to God after the death of a child means learning to shift the question from “why?” to “how?”
- How will You help me want to stay here?
- How will You carry me?
- How will You turn this mess into something that brings You glory?
Trust is not pretending that it doesn’t hurt. When our child leaves this earth, it hurts more than we can put into words. When new fears surface, such as health diagnoses, court battles, unknown tomorrows, they are real. But nothing blindsides God. He is never surprised. Before we were born, He knew this chapter would be written.
You may not know what tomorrow holds. But you can grow in trusting the One who holds tomorrow.
Forgiveness: Unchaining Your Own Heart
Few things feel harder than forgiveness after child loss, especially when someone’s actions caused your child’s death. But forgiveness is not a feeling. It is not a one-and-done moment. It is a choice we make and keep making.
When we refuse to forgive, we remain chained to the one who harmed us. The anger festers. Bitterness grows. Our whole life can begin to revolve around resentment. That is not what God has for you.
Clinging to God after the death of a child includes allowing Him to empower you to forgive, even when you have to repeat it over and over again. Not because the other person deserves it. Not because justice is unnecessary. But because your heart deserves freedom.
Sometimes you may even need to forgive your child, yourself, or God. That can feel shocking to admit. But bringing that honesty into the light is part of healing.
It is only by God’s strength that we can forgive. We lean on Him for what we cannot do on our own.
Encouragement: Finding Your Hiding Place
Discouragement is one of the enemy’s favorite tools. It literally means to take courage out of someone. Encouragement puts courage back in.
Linda and I both agreed that one of the ways we practice clinging to God after the death of a child is by finding our hiding place, both physically and spiritually. It may be a chair where you meet with God. A spot on your knees by the couch. A walk in creation where the heavens declare His glory. A closet turned into a prayer space.
When you enter that place, your heart begins to recognize: This is where I meet with God. This is my refuge.
Over time, you can learn to encourage yourself in the Lord, like David did, without needing to be in that physical place. You may not move from head to heart quickly at first. That is okay. This is a journey. The experience of God’s presence accumulates slowly in your soul.
Praise: The Posture That Sustains Us
Praise can feel impossible when you are angry or numb. But praise does not mean pretending everything is fine. It means recognizing that this separation is not permanent. It means remembering that God made a way for you to be reunited with your child for eternity.
Clinging to God after the death of a child slowly transforms lament into praise, not because the pain disappears, but because His faithfulness becomes undeniable.
Daniel lost everything; his family, homeland, identity… and yet three times a day he knelt in his hiding place and gave thanks. Praise became his language of survival.
For us, praise becomes the posture that sustains the heart. We do not “get over” losing our child. We continue to miss them while still trusting God with the rest of our story.
One Step at a Time
If clinging to God after the death of a child feels far from where you are today, please do not put harsh or unrealistic expectations on yourself.
This is not about spiritual performance. It is about relationship.
God is not waiting for you to clean up your emotions. He wants to meet you right where you are in the mess, in the questions, in the fear. Not just as a concept in your head, but as Someone you come to know deeply in your heart.
You may not feel strong. You may not feel faithful. But you can begin with one honest prayer, one small act of trust, one step toward forgiveness, one moment in your hiding place.
And over time, you may find that praise quietly becomes part of your language, not because the pain is gone, but because you have discovered that God has been with you every step of the way.
NOTE: This post was taken from the Grieving Parents Sharing Hope podcast, episode 336. I encourage you to listen to the full conversation by clicking here, or by finding Grieving Parents Sharing Hope on your favorite podcast app. In this episode, Linda shares the first three Heart Skills from her book Hope for My Hurting Heart: 8 Heart Skills to Help Hurting Hearts Cling to God and Not Give Up. If you would like to go deeper, you can find the book here. As an affiliate, GPS Hope receives a small percentage at no additional cost to you, which helps us continue offering hope and encouragement to grieving parents.
Click here to order Linda’s book Hope for My Hurting Heart. (Note: This is an affiliate link, which means a small portion of your purchase price will go to GPS Hope.)
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Click here to preorder The Bible’s Grieving Parents paperback and Companion Journal on the GPS Hope webstore. Order in February and receive a free My Grief Journey. Also available on Amazon starting February 19th.
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AWARD WINNING AUTHOR, LAURA DIEHL, has written several impactful books that provide comfort and guidance to those navigating the painful journey of child loss, after the death of her own daughter in 2011. Her most acclaimed work, When Tragedy Strikes: Rebuilding Your Life with Hope and Healing After the Death of Your Child, has received multiple accolades, including the 2017 Gold Medal Centauri Christian Book Award for Non-Fiction and a Silver Medal in the 2018 Illumination Awards. Several of her other books have won awards as well.
In addition to her writing, Laura is an ordained minister and has an extensive background in international children’s ministry. She is a sought-after speaker and singer at grief conferences and churches, known for her compassionate approach and deep understanding of the grieving process, especially the unique loss of a child. Through her weekly award-winning podcast, her writings, and other resources provided by GPS Hope, Laura and her husband, Dave, continue to provide hope and healing to thousands of parents worldwide, helping them find light in the midst of profound loss and darkness.
For more information about Laura’s award-winning books go to gpshope.org/books.
To find out more about Laura Diehl and the ministry of Grieving Parents Sharing Hope (GPS Hope) visit gpshope.org.
The link to Hope for the Future is an affiliate link, allowing part of the purchase price to go to GPS Hope.
Losing a child is the kind of pain that doesn’t fit into words. It’s not just sadness. It’s a deep, soul-level grief that changes everything. If you are reading this today, you may be walking through the darkest season of your life, and the idea of hope after losing a child may feel impossible. But I want to gently remind you that hope is not a feeling, it is a lifeline. And even when your heart feels shattered, God can still meet you there.
Linda has discovered eight “heart skills” we need, to help hurting hearts cling to God and not give up, which she put into a book titled 
The second heart skill Linda talked about is love – specifically, receiving God’s love.
This might sound strange, but loss is a skill. It is a heart skill that must be learned.
You may be reading this and thinking, “But my pain is too deep. My grief is too heavy. I don’t see how hope is possible.”
Even if you don’t feel it yet, write a statement like Linda did. Here are examples you can use:
“Pain redeemed is better than pain removed.” That is a hard truth, but it is also a beautiful one.
One of the questions I hear most often from grieving parents isn’t theological, and it isn’t meant for debate.
After losing a child, grief can feel suffocating. It can feel like everything goes dark, like the air has been sucked out of the room, and even breathing takes effort. It feels all-consuming, pressing in from every direction.
Why am I so overwrought, why am I so disturbed?
Sibling loss is one of the most overlooked forms of grief. While much of the care and concern after a child’s death is directed toward others, surviving siblings are often left quietly carrying a deep and complex sorrow of their own. They are sometimes called the “forgotten mourners,” not because their grief is small, but because it is so often unseen.
To lose a sibling is to lose both the past and the future. Siblings share childhood memories, family stories, inside jokes, and shared history. They are the ones who remember what it was like growing up in the same home. At the same time, siblings often imagine a future together such as walking through adulthood, caring for aging parents, celebrating milestones, and growing old side by side.
One of the quieter but deeply painful realities of sibling loss is the moment a surviving child becomes older than the sibling who died. This can be disorienting and emotionally heavy. Suddenly, time has moved forward for one child and stopped forever for another.
Another phrase siblings frequently use is this: 
After sibling loss, many surviving children live with an undercurrent of fear. Phone calls at odd hours, delayed text responses, or unexpected changes can trigger anxiety. This fear doesn’t always control daily life, but it often lingers in the background.
Weddings, graduations, birthdays, and holidays can be especially painful for siblings. These moments highlight absence in ways everyday life may not. Some siblings want to honor their brother or sister publicly; others prefer to do so privately. Both are valid.
Sibling loss can deeply affect faith. Some siblings find comfort in their relationship with God; others wrestle with questions, especially when loss feels senseless or leaves children behind. Many struggle to find faith-based resources specifically for sibling grief, which can increase feelings of isolation.
