There are some heartaches a mother struggles to put into words.
The conversation that ended badly. The text that went unanswered. The choices she cannot understand. The empty chair at a holiday table where someone she loves should be sitting.
She may keep showing up at church, going to work, and caring for everyone around her. But beneath those ordinary routines, she is carrying questions that rarely quiet down: What did I do wrong? Should I say something? Should I give them space? How do I love my child without compromising my convictions?
On this week’s episode of The Love Offering Podcast, I had the privilege of talking with my friend Erica Wiggenhorn about her book, Loving Your Wayward Child. Erica is an author and Bible teacher, but she enters this conversation as a mother who understands the ache personally.
She wrote this book while her own family’s story was still unfolding. Her encouragement comes from seeking God in the middle of uncertainty, researching practical ways to pursue connection, and listening to other women walking a similar road.
If you are loving a child whose choices break your heart, I hope these truths from our conversation offer you a place to breathe.
You are not the only mother carrying this pain
Erica shared that after speaking at women’s events, she began noticing a change in the prayer requests women brought to her. Again and again, mothers approached with trembling hands and tear-filled eyes, quietly sharing something painful about their children.
They wanted prayer. They wanted someone who would understand. And they desperately needed hope.
Erica recognized their longing because she had written the same plea in her own prayer journal. What felt like a lonely struggle in her family was also breaking the hearts of women all around her.
That recognition helped inspire this book and her desire to bring mothers together. Their circumstances differed, but they shared the grief of disconnection and the helplessness of not knowing how to make things better.
If you have been keeping your pain quiet because you’re afraid of judgment, consider telling one trustworthy person. You don’t need to share every detail of your child’s story to ask someone to pray with you. A simple, “Our family is walking through something hard, and I need support,” can open the door to companionship.
Your child’s choices are not the whole measure of your motherhood
One of the hardest questions parents ask is, Is this my fault?
Erica pointed us toward the character of God. He is the perfect Father, and Scripture still tells the story of people turning away from Him. Human choices cannot be reduced to a formula in which perfect parenting produces perfect outcomes.
That does not mean we never examine our own actions. When we have hurt someone, we can acknowledge it, seek forgiveness, and make changes. But taking responsibility for a specific wrong is different from taking responsibility for everything another person chooses.
You can be honest about your mistakes without declaring your entire motherhood a failure. You can ask God to help you grow without treating regret as a sentence you must serve forever.
Bring Him the question that keeps replaying in your mind. Ask Him to show you what needs repentance and what needs release.
Notice whether fear is shaping your response
When a relationship feels fragile, fear can begin making decisions for us.
We may speak more forcefully because we are desperate to change an outcome. Or we may avoid an honest conversation because we are afraid of losing the relationship. Erica described how fear can lead us either to demand agreement with our convictions or to set those convictions aside to keep the peace.
Her encouragement was to bring our emotions and expectations before God. Before responding, we can pause and ask:
- What am I afraid will happen?
- What am I expecting from this conversation?
- Am I trying to communicate love, or trying to force an outcome?
- What would faithfulness look like in this particular moment?
These questions won’t make every conversation easy. They can help us approach it with greater honesty and care.
Erica emphasized that there is no single response that fits every family. Each child, relationship, and circumstance is different. We need to return to the Lord for wisdom as new situations arise.
Connection can begin with a small expression of love
Erica spoke honestly about a season of no contact with her son and the fear of not knowing where he was or how he was doing. In that uncertainty, even a small attempt to connect could feel vulnerable.
She discussed “bids for connection”: simple gestures that communicate love without pressure, manipulation, or a demand for something in return.
Where contact is welcome and appropriate, that might look like a brief message: Thinking of you today. I love you. The aim is to express care, while respecting the other person’s boundaries and readiness to respond.
Erica also emphasized the importance of preparing our own hearts. If we send a message expecting it to repair everything immediately, silence may leave us even more wounded. Bringing our grief and expectations to God helps us reach out from a healthier place.
Love can be expressed in a small moment. Rebuilding trust may take many moments, and we cannot determine someone else’s pace.
You need people who will pray with you without judging your family
Isolation can make a painful situation feel even heavier.
When we are alone with our thoughts, uncertainty can turn into an endless list of worst-case scenarios. Erica described the value of “reality testing”—recognizing the difference between what we actually know and what our fear imagines.
A trusted friend can gently ask, Do you know that happened, or are you afraid it might happen? She can listen, pray, and help you return to what is true.
Erica also challenged us to consider how we respond to other hurting mothers. We rarely know the whole story from the outside. Quick judgments and confident advice can deepen someone’s shame.
We can offer something more useful: humble companionship. We can say, I don’t have every answer, but I will pray with you. You don’t have to walk through this alone.
God’s presence offers hope in an unfinished story
One of the most moving parts of our conversation was Erica’s reflection on an empty chair at her Easter table.
That morning, she read the parable of the great banquet in Luke 14. As she considered the host’s desire to fill his table, she found comfort in God’s welcoming heart. The stories in Luke 15—the lost sheep, the lost coin, and the prodigal son—also reminded her of His concern for the lost.
Erica shared how Scripture helped her trust that her son was not beyond God’s presence or the reach of His love, even when he felt far away from her.
This is hope we can hold without pretending to know how or when a family’s circumstances will change. We can pray for reconciliation, ask for wisdom, and entrust the outcomes to God. We can also ask Him to sustain us in the waiting.
As Erica said, “There’s always hope because there’s always God.”
A love offering for your family
Loving your child through heartbreak may look different from one day to the next.
Today, it may mean listening. Tomorrow, it may mean offering an apology, holding a thoughtful boundary, or praying when you have no opportunity to speak. It may also mean receiving support for your own weary heart.
You don’t have to know the ending to ask God for help with the next step.
I hope you’ll listen to my full conversation with on The Love Offering Podcast. And if someone you love is carrying this kind of grief, consider sharing the episode with her. Your care may help her feel less alone.
Connect with Erica: Website | Loving Your Wayward Child | MOMentum
