Stepping into line, I clutched my son’s tiny hand and kept my head down as we inched toward his classroom door. The preschool check-in process took a while, but usually created a welcome opportunity to chat with other moms. On that day, however, just walking into the building required excruciating effort. Participating in such a “normal” activity seemed surreal when I felt so raw, exposed, and vulnerable.
Just a few days earlier, I’d sat at my dad’s bedside as he exhaled his final breath. For the two weeks prior to that I’d been consumed with trekking back and forth to see him as he’d received hospice care. I’d been so removed from regular life that it felt overwhelming just dropping off my son at school.
I assumed most of the moms in line knew I was grieving since I’d received flowers from the class. My sagging shoulders and red-rimmed eyes hinted at my fragile state, yet not one of them acknowledged my loss. I didn’t fault them for it—most of my peers hadn’t yet experienced the death of a parent and didn’t know what to say.
After a few awkward minutes, I felt a hand rest gently on my shoulder. Looking up, a mom I barely knew pulled me in close and said, “I’m so sorry for your loss. My dad died a few years ago– I totally get what you’re going through.” She described the range of emotions she’d experienced, mirroring mine exactly. What a relief to encounter someone who understood my pain.
In the years since then, I’ve been blessed by other compassionate people who have reached out to empathize with me through different struggles. None of them tried to fix my problems, but they all showed me compassion and understanding. They made me feel seen, heard, and loved. These kind acts beautifully illustrate Paul’s words in the New Testament:
“Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves receive from God.” (2 Corinthians 1:3-4, NIV)
Painful experiences are fertile ground for receiving God’s comfort. They also enable us to grow in our compassion for people. When we’re going through hardships, we can find hope knowing God will use them to bless others in the future.
Once you’ve experienced true empathy, you’re able to recognize how it differs from sympathy. Empathizing with others means we identify with their pain and connect with them in it. It’s when we say, “I get it, I know how you feel.” Sympathy, however, is like saying “I feel bad for you.” Instead of being a participant in the pain, a person offering sympathy remains a passive observer feeling pity for the hardships of another. While the intentions are kind, it can make a struggling person feel emotionally isolated. If you’ve ever gone through a hard time, you probably know that receiving a person’s empathy comforts so much more than the clichéd words of sympathy.
Sometimes we encounter people in pain and we have no frame of reference to empathize with them. It’s tempting to hold back and say nothing for fear of getting it wrong. However, there are simple tools we can use to respond in caring and sensitive ways that promote connection and understanding. Here are a few I’ve learned:
-Listen to understand, not to respond. Don’t get distracted thinking about what you’ll say next– you’ll miss what the person is telling you.
-Listen for feelings, not facts. Validate their emotions and don’t judge them as bad or good. Focus on the person, not on the details of their situation.
-Be present and patient. Let the struggling person have room to share the tangle of emotions they’re feeling. Get comfortable sitting in silence too. Remember your presence will communicate your support more than any helpful suggestions you might be tempted to offer. People may forget what you say, but they remember the way you made them feel.
-Avoid sharing stories about yourself. This may seem like empathy, but it’s really turning the attention to yourself. Saying “I’ve been there” or “I feel you” is enough. If they want to know more, they’ll ask.
-Don’t offer advice, quick assurances, or comparisons that minimize what they’re going through (ie: “At least….” Or “It could be worse…”). Don’t offer the “bright side” of the situation they aren’t ready to hear.
-Remember it’s not your job to speak for God or to make conjectures about why He’s letting a hard thing happen. Don’t over-spiritualize, preach, or quote a verse attempting to make them feel better. Instead, offer to pray with and for the person.
-Circle back later and see how they’re doing. Ask if there are any specific ways you can be praying. Sometimes after the initial conversation, we check off the “reach out to my struggling friend” box and move on. Difficult seasons can last a long time and most people appreciate ongoing support (to whatever degree you have the bandwidth to offer it.)
Want to learn more about the difference between sympathy and empathy? Watch this two minute video by Dr. Brené Brown.
Singer/ songwriter Toby Mac gives us an intimate glimpse into the pain of losing his son, Truett, in his song “21 Years.” Let it remind you to look at others with empathy and to invite God to use you to comfort them.