How do I help friends who are going through a divorce?

When speaking with a friend, you might feel unsure what to say when they’re going through a divorce. You might be afraid that you’re going to say the wrong thing, but here’s where you can begin. Just simply offer your presence. Know that you cannot fix everything that has been broken in their world. I find that reassuring to know that we don’t need to have the perfect words to talk about what’s going wrong. Your friend is in a tremendous amount of pain, and so your steady, loving presence is more powerful than you realize. Marriage is often one of the most defining relationships in a person’s life. It holds shared history, identity, finances, dreams, and even daily routines. And when it fractures, it can feel like the very ground a person stands on is giving way. All that was once stable is no longer secure. And divorce often looks like living through an earthquake, and I don’t mean that lightly. An earthquake doesn’t just crack one thing. It shifts everything. What once felt secure, home, trust, identity, suddenly shakes and splinters. The ground that your friend stood on, the life that they built, is now fractured, unfamiliar, and uncertain. And just like life after a literal earthquake, your friend may be left standing on emotional rubble, disoriented, afraid, unsure of even where to begin putting their life back together.

And that’s why Psalm 46 gives us such deep hope. It reads, “God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble. And therefore we will not fear though the earth gives way, though the mountains be moved into the heart of the sea.” When their world shakes, God is their unshakeable refuge and sustaining strength. God is not caught off guard by your friend’s pain. He enters it with compassion and authority. He is near. He is unshaken. He is their refuge when everything else feels undone.

So ask God to help you be someone who stands beside them in the rubble. Don’t be tempted to rush them to rebuild. Don’t throw quick verses at deep wounds. Just be there. Be someone who sees a devastation and stays. Your friend may be grieving deeply, grieving what was, what could have been, what should have been, and now there has been loss. Maybe there was a betrayal. Maybe it’s just been years of silence and loneliness. Either way, a divorce is a kind of death. And like any death, it deserves to be mourned. So ask gentle, honest questions, like, what’s been hardest lately? Or how can I be praying for you today? And if they don’t want to talk yet, that’s okay. Stay close anyway. Fold their laundry, drop off a meal, sit beside them in the quiet of their home, and then listen to them talk. And eventually they’ll start naming their losses and their fears. Let them say things they haven’t said out loud before. Let them repeat themselves and let them wrestle. Don’t tidy up their sorrow. Make room for it. Let it be as heavy as it is, and stay with them, ready to listen.

That kind of presence is actually a ministry in itself. You are bearing witness to their pain, and you are also quietly bearing the image of Christ who does not look away from the brokenhearted but draws near and stays near. And gently, over time, you will point them to Jesus, our faithful Bridegroom. When human love fails, his remains. He does not walk away. His covenant holds, and his love is not shaken. When your friend feels like the earth has given way, you remind them that God has not. His promises will stand. He is their refuge, and he is their strength.

You don’t need to know what to say. You cannot repair what has been broken, but you can sit with them in the brokenness. So show up, be a steady friend, stand beside them in the shaking of their world, and let your love quietly echo his.