Sara Taylor and her family were at the Liverpool FC victory parade. The incident that followed made her think deeply about how Christian parents should talk to their children about difficult issues like this
Last week, we went to see the Liverpool parade. The sun was out, the atmosphere electric, and spirits were high. As a family, we navigated the usual big-crowd quirks: people pushing in, kids on shoulders blocking views, random traders weaving through the chaos selling knock-off scarves and super loud horns. It sparked some good conversations about patience (we were waiting for seven hours!), and about kindness, as we encouraged the children to make room for people who couldn’t see, invited the smallest to go to the front, and choose to be considerate even when it felt like no one else was.
When we saw the open-top bus, the crowd went wild. We waved, we sang anthems, we cheered. At one surreal point, my husband even caught both Nunez’s attention and his cap, which he flung in his direction. The moment he placed that cap on his head, you would have thought he’d won the league. It felt like the perfect end to an incredible day, collectively shared with thousands.
Then, stuck in traffic on the way home, the news broke. A car had driven into the crowd. Roads shut. Panic. No clear answers. Just fragments and speculation.
The mood changed instantly. The kids asked the obvious questions: “Why would someone do that?” “Was it on purpose?” “Was it a terrorist?” Like most parents, I found myself scrambling for a response that was both honest and calm – the kind of answer that doesn’t fuel fear or offer empty platitudes.
The truth is, we didn’t (and still don’t) know why it happened. And in that moment, I realised something important: we have to teach our children how to live in the tension of not knowing.
Sitting with the unknown
There’s a strange discomfort that comes with not having the full story – especially when something scary or chaotic has just happened. As adults, we’re often quick to jump to conclusions. We want answers, culprits, categories. Suddenly, social media feeds become frenzied. News channels speculate before they verify. It’s all designed to make us feel informed, even if what we’re actually fed is assumption.
The problem is that our children are watching this as well. They absorb it. It becomes their norm. And unless we’re intentional, they’ll learn that guessing is better than waiting, and that judging is easier than holding space for complexity.
However, life isn’t always clear-cut. Sometimes the ‘bad guy’ isn’t obvious. Sometimes the person behind the wheel is unwell, or overwhelmed, or not malicious at all. Sometimes we just don’t know yet. And that’s not just okay; it’s an opportunity.
if we can teach our children to pause before they speak, to pray before they post, and to lead with kindness rather than conclusion, then we’re giving them tools to navigate a world that desperately needs more grace
As parents and carers, we get to help our children practise a different response: pause before conclusion. When we find the right words, and role model appropriate actions, we can teach them that it’s brave and wise to hold judgement lightly. We demonstrate that compassion can come first. That silence, prayer, and empathy are valid responses when facts are limited.
Teaching kids to respond, not react
After the initial flurry of questions, we talked as a family about what we did know. We knew that people were hurt. That emergency services were incredible. That people must have been scared, shocked, confused – just like we were. We talked about what it means to care – even when the story doesn’t make sense.
It didn’t provide us with answers. It didn’t bring us any solutions. It didn’t make the situation make sense. But sat in traffic with nowhere to go, we prayed.
Not with a long explanation or dramatic declarations, but simply: “God, help the people who were there. Help the people who are hurt. Be close to the ones who are scared. Bring peace to this situation. Amen.”
That was enough.
It reminded me of Philippians 4:6. “Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God.” We didn’t have all the answers, but we knew where to bring our worries.
In a world obsessed with instant results, sometimes the most faithful thing we can model is restraint. We don’t need to explain everything to our children – but we can give them language that points to love over fear, and compassion over conjecture.
Faith in the grey areas
This notion is completely biblical. Jesus lived in tension all the time. He didn’t rush to label or condemn. He asked questions. He saw the person behind the behaviour. When the crowds demanded instant judgement, he stooped down and drew in the dirt.
That’s not just good theology – it’s good parenting.
Read more:
From headlines to hope: How Christian parents can guide youth and children through troubling news
How to talk to your children about war
Make your home the safest space for the biggest conversations with your youth and children
When we teach our children to pause, to pray, to sit with mystery, we’re shaping more than just their reactions to the news. We’re forming their character. We’re helping them become people who see others before labelling them. People who choose mercy before certainty. Who aren’t afraid of grey areas, because their faith doesn’t need everything in black and white.
I’m not suggesting it’s easy. It isn’t. Even as adults, we are socially programmed to want definitive answers. But there is freedom in finding peace in the chaos - and in showing our children that peace is still possible.
Five ways to help children respond in moments of uncertainty
1. Acknowledge what you know, and what you don’t. It’s okay to say, “I’m not sure yet” or “we don’t have all the facts.” Children learn from your honesty that uncertainty isn’t something to fear – it’s something to hold gently.
2. Resist the urge to label. Instead of guessing motives (e.g., “maybe they were angry…”), try, “we don’t know why this happened, but we do know people are hurting – and that is what matters most right now.”
3. Encourage empathy over explanation. Help your child think about what others might be feeling. “How do you think people are feeling now?” This nurtures emotional intelligence far more than having the ‘right’ answer.
4. Model a calm, compassionate response. However you’re feeling inside, your tone helps shape theirs. Even something as simple as breathing slowly or praying together can create safety when the world feels shaky.
5. Keep the conversation going. Let them know questions are welcome – today, tomorrow, or next week. Sometimes children process things slowly, and revisiting the topic later allows space for deeper understanding and comfort.
The incident in Liverpool was just another reminder that we won’t always have the full picture. Life is messy. News stories unfold in real time, and not everything fits into neat categories. But if we can teach our children to pause before they speak, to pray before they post, and to lead with kindness rather than conclusion, then we’re giving them tools to navigate a world that desperately needs more grace. As Jesus said, “Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God” (Matthew 5:9).
Because it’s not just dramatic incidents that prompt big questions. Children might ask about protests they see on the news, arguments overheard in the street, or people behaving differently in public. And in every one of those moments, we can help them learn to respond with empathy rather than assumption.
One day, they’ll be the ones shaping how others respond.
And maybe – just maybe – they’ll remember the day a football cap flew through the air, the roads closed, and instead of panic or blame, their family chose to respond with peace.
