Last year a former co-worker was looking for “guinea pigs” for a few practice sessions she was leading in preparation for a degree in spiritual direction. Not one to pass up free therapy I jumped at the chance to meet with someone who’d listen to me talk about my problems and help me figure out what God was doing in the midst. But what I quickly discovered was that it wasn’t like therapy at all. Or like biblical counseling. Sure, she sat quietly and listened — but she also spent a significant amount of time praying and then asking questions like, “What do you think God is inviting you into?” or prompting me to close my eyes and imagine Jesus’ face as I handed my problem to him. I fear the term “holding space,” may be perceived by some as an airy-fairy euphemism, something without a lot of substance. But that’s exactly what she was doing — holding space for me.
I felt, in those sessions, like someone was creating an opportunity for me to safely do my own work with God and process whatever needed to be processed — without agenda. There was no pressure to leave the session having moved from one state of being to another.
The agendaless time was an absolute gift.
Over the past few years, I’ve read or listened to a lot of teaching about listening. And how good listeners, or anyone hoping to be a comforting presence in times of trouble, should refrain from talking about their own experiences. The reason is that sometimes even our best-intentioned words can be perceived as making the conversation “about us” instead of being there for someone. But I’ve been wondering lately if the idea is far more nuanced than how it’s presented by the world of popular psychology and social media.
Realizing I’m not alone in my troubles has often been soothing to me. And I imagine I’m not alone (see what I did there) in that. So where do the nuances lie? When do we share our experiences and when do we simply hold space?
I think the answer to these questions may point us in a more truly compassionate direction, but I also think the questions may present a false dichotomy. Might listening well, also include letting our friend or family member know they’re not alone by sharing our own experience?
Co-Suffering
Compassion is by definition a willingness to co-suffer. We’re to somehow be “with” our people in their suffering. While this could, in part, look like problem-solving, it doesn’t have to and there’s a possibility that it shouldn’t. But always important — in some capacity — is entering into suffering alongside someone.
What does this look like practically? It may look like sitting with someone while they’re homebound with illness, being an ear as someone shares their marriage issues, or listening to someone talk about that same problem for the umpteenth time.
I’ll be the first to admit these acts of co-suffering are difficult for me. In fact, the last example is excruciating for me! When I hear about the same problem again and again. I want to move past it. And from the outside, the solution can seem so incredibly obvious!
But on this side of heaven, God doesn’t seem too worried about moving us past or through our problems very quickly — if at all. He seems more inclined to offer “withness”. The very name, Emmanuel, means God with us. And if He promises to come and make his home with us ( John 14:23), and given us the Holy Spirit to dwell in us. It’s this companionship that gives Christians our most profound sense of peace in the midst of trials.
Yet few of us stay in this space of “withness” or co-suffering. Instead, we move quickly into problem-solving mode: lending advice or sharing what we walked through that may be similar. Even our sharing of scripture can be less about comforting and more about moving someone past their problem. Telling folks that worry is a sin or that they should rejoice always are particularly common strategies for getting someone to wrap up the worry already and move on. But who does this really benefit? The person walking through the storm, or the person whose arm is tired from holding the umbrella.
It’s imperative that we check our hearts before speaking in these situations. Wanting someone to feel better so that we can feel better is not the same as compassion.
While our stories and advice may be apropos to the situation, they can also be detrimental to the friend that just needs to know that someone took the time to hear them. That someone is bearing witness to the gravity of what they’re walking through. Interjecting with our own stuff can either make a person clam up or truncate the healing that verbal expression can bring. If I had a nickel for every time the Holy Spirit connected the dots for me in the middle of my own rambling, I’d be a rich woman.
God’s therapeutic plan may involve you being a silent counselor sitting over that cup of coffee, while He does the work. May we begin to ask ourselves if our interjections and interruptions point to a lack of faith in what God can do on His own — in our stillness.
You’re not Jesus, and neither am I
The Bible tells story after story of Jesus not just being “with” people but perfectly solving their problems. His abilities ranged from making a wedding poppin’ to bringing folks back from the dead! But the differences between our problem-solving ability and Jesus’ can’t be overstated. He’s omniscient. His understanding of literally everything means He understands what God is doing in the midst of a problem. He understands why certain ailments aren’t going away. And He understands the sin that even the person committing it can’t see. He has every piece of evidence available to him at all times. He’s the right man for the job — always.
And sometimes He asks us to participate in the problem-solving by offering advice or by asking a question that helps bring clarity — and sometimes our job is to listen. To hold space for someone as He does business with them.
Jesus alone knows the heart. So when we offer problem-solving instead of “withness” we sometimes tread on places we have no business treading on. I should note here that I’m not talking about avoiding our responsibility to solve clearly solvable problems. Scripture is clear that faith without works is dead. If we can give someone who is starving food to eat, we’d be heartless not to. If we can give money to the widow whose checking account is in the negative, we do it. But often, our problems are far more layered than these.
So what do we do?
I offer these ideas as food for thought. Not necessarily steps, but things to consider in our desire for more compassionate listening:
Listen: Without interruption, be silent as we’re told about a painful situation or grievance.
Pray: While someone speaks, ask the Holy Spirit to be present and give us words if words are His will. And ask Him to strike from the record anything that isn’t from him but from our own flesh.
Ask: When it’s clear that our friend is finished speaking and we’ve prayed — ask if it’s ok to share a scenario that may or may not be helpful to them. And offer this in humility, remembering that we don’t have all we need to solve the case.
You’re not alone: Sharing our experiences doesn’t have to equate to words of advice. We can share simply so that our friend knows they aren’t alone. The enemy loves nothing more than to make us all feel isolated in our trouble, so sharing vulnerably can be just the weapon a friend needs to ward off the spiritual attack of isolation.
If in the midst of sharing experiences, advice is requested — by all means, let’s give it. But with the caveat that our situation is likely made up of pieces they aren’t completely the same. But Jesus knows every piece and He alone knows how they all fit together.
Which aspect of listening compassionately do you struggle with the most? Which are you good at?
God is with us — everywhere
I love the compassion and willingness this organization has to bring the Kingdom to all people, even those behind bars.
I hope you enjoyed this month’s installment of, Curious Compassion.
If you’re a ministry or non-profit leader, please visit my website for practical resources. You’ll discover The Copy Shop is especially helpful! That’s where you’ll find lots of goodies to help build engagement, trust, and professionalism for your organization. I’m also gearing up to offer a special service called, The Non-Profit Beginner’s Suite — so stay tuned for more on that in the coming month.
That last example of co-suffering you listed is excruciating for me, too! I really loved how you connected compassion to co-suffering. Such a good reminder - thank you!
Well said! I feel like the last five years of my life has been an exercise of moving from just problem-solving to learning to "creating space,"
It is SO not natural to me, but it is starting to become me. I don't know if that makes sense?
Anyway, I love these steps, I definitely think of I boiled them down, it is what I try to practice. But it is helpful to see them listed, like a practical path we can follow to learn! I am sure I'll be sharing this with others!
Also, I'm glad I was sent this post as it seems we might have a lot in common! For example, the project I am working on right now is a guide called, "Should I start a nonprofit?" 😀 Anyway, nice to meet you!