Start with Listening
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Listening largely means to help someone talk. That is what it is about. It is the act of being present in a way that encourages the other to open up, to unload pain and pressure, to speak about whatever it is that is burdening or hurting them.
Almost always it includes body language, like facing the person, and looking at them with comfortable eye-contact, and attentiveness. Usually there are common, down-to-earth opening comments like “How ‘ya doing?” Good listening requires having time to hear, and to stay with the one who needs to talk, for a few minutes, at least.
To be listened to is still a rare and wonderful gift. Listening heals. To be listened to refreshes the soul, opens one’s heart, and soothes wounds. Listening is an art all can use.
Eight Laws for Effective Listening
There is no one who is not a candidate for listening time. We all are carrying concerns, experiences, thrills and disappointments we love to share with an interested person. But mostly, we think of the injured, or grieving, and helping them. So let’s focus there. Before going to someone who has been hurt, or needs to talk, in your opinion, plant some special ideas in your brain and heart.
Here are a handful of special rules every listener must follow in order to be effective.
1. “The wounded and grieving need to talk.” Most of the time those who have been hit by something devastating or frightening are eager and willing to talk about every detail. If not eager or willing, they should, nevertheless, be enabled, encouraged, and helped to tell about what happened and how they feel.
2. “My agenda is not to try to repair, fix, or explain, the damage.” This means I will try to hear their account, listen to their feelings, and watch their tears, without making moves, or speaking words, that attempt to make their pain less acute, or change the way they are reacting to what happened. I will scrupulously avoid explaining, trying to find the causes, and making comparisons, or suggestions. (The next rule is somewhat similar, but a little different.)
3. “I am not there to cheer them.” My helpfulness does not depend on finding words that brighten the scene. I am not there to distract them, or in some way to directly try to make them feel better, or even try to make them smile.
4. “My helpfulness is mostly my presence.” It is powerfully spirit-lifting when caring people show up after a painful loss or injury. The symbolism is healing. That is, if you represent the church, you are God’s presence in a special way. That can be powerfully beneficial to wounded souls. It is not crucial that you say something bright, insightful, or wise. You need not read or quote Scripture. Your presence is a strong message of love all by itself. (God is love—Love is God)
5. “When I pray I will carefully and thoughtfully talk to God about their pain, and their needs.” I will avoid slipping into too much praise and thanksgiving. Instead, I will focus on talking to God, by putting in clear and specific words their hurts and heartaches, and presenting them to the Lord.
6. “I will resist the temptation to talk about my own experiences, even those that might be similar.” There is a powerful pressure in everyone to tell our own story, or to talk about something this person’s agony or circumstances reminds us of. This is such a common occurrence, it is surprising when it doesn’t happen—everybody quickly goes into their own experience or memory.
A grieving or injured person may politely listen to such accounts, but in reality, they are still thinking about and feeling their own pain. It is not possible to pay attention to another’s story when you are still “bleeding”.
They need to talk. They need to be heard. Rarely do they need to hear someone else’s story. (If you have gone through something almost exactly like this person’s crisis, it is OK to briefly mention that. Simply tell them you have, and promise to tell them about it someday when they are ready).
7. “When I meet someone whom I know has gone through a rough time, or experienced a painful loss, I will bring up the subject, ask them about it, and endeavor to facilitate their sharing.” In other words I will not avoid the subject, just because it is a painful one. This takes courage and resolution. It depends on believing that the hurting person needs to talk about their calamity. It works on the conviction that their tears are not a bad thing, or something to be avoided.
Your inquiry may bring tears, but that is not hurtful—it is helpful. This care tactic is possible for those who have decided, or moved into the place where they can keep talking, even when they themselves feel tearful. It is not easy to stay dry-eyed when another is crying, but it is essential not to quit when your own tears flow.
8. “I will listen for feelings more than for facts. I will connect most helpfully when I respond to someone’s emotions.” Jane said, “My grandma died last week.” The good listener hears sadness—the novice merely becomes aware of the occurrence of a death. Jane did not say she was sad; she stated that her grandmother’s life had ended. The good listener hears feelings—even when they are not named; the less skilled listener focuses on the information. The good listener then says: “Oh, I’m sorry. You must be feeling pretty sad.” The less skilled will ask for details, like “How old was she?” Or, “What happened?” These are relevant questions, but the best, immediate reply centers on the feelings.The sadness is named, accepted, and allowed. Inevitably the young lady feels cared for and hugged.
I interviewed a young seminary student recently who wants to specialize in Care Ministry. I asked him to tell me about his life. In the story he included his parent’s divorce when he was a youngster, his Dad’s alcoholism and young death, and his mother’s abandonment of her faith, to live with a man outside of marriage. He apologized as tears choked him a little. After offering my empathy, I declared to him that that terrible stuff in his life can be the greatest resource he brings to Care Ministry. He looked puzzled as I explained that the best stuff we have is often the worst that has happened to us. If we can reach back and remember our feelings, empathy can follow naturally.
Listening might better be called “helping someone talk.” That is what it really is aimed at. Or it could be called “appropriate responding,” meaning the heart of the activity is saying and communicating, through words and body language, our desire to hear the hurting person's feelings.
In order to do this we must be purged of our instantaneous impulse to fix people. Trust God to repair the broken hearted. Leave the fixing to the Lord. But the Lord wants us to be there for, and with, the hurting. He wants us to be His tangible caring presence, accepting their tears and hearing their cries.
