A “crisis” is any situation, expected or otherwise, which disrupts the normal flow of life and family. Whether a death, divorce, job loss, move, or mental health emergency, everyone eventually experiences a crisis, and everyone responds differently. Unfortunately, for those providing support, someone else’s crisis can be highly uncomfortable, and there are a number of cliches which escape our lips to occupy the uncomfortable space. From what I’ve studied and seen in nearly a decade of ministry, saying nothing at all and just being present is almost always the best option, but if you feel like you have to say something, I have a suggestion:
What not to say:
“I know exactly how you feel.”
Why it’s bad:
Well, you don’t.
You don’t really know how this person feels.
And don’t even start with the “But when my grandpa died…” or “But when I was unemployed…” or “But when I went through a bad breakup…” No. You do not know how this person feels in this moment. Period.
Okay, maybe I could put this a little more gently:
When we encounter someone in a difficult situation, it’s natural to think about how we might respond to it ourselves. It’s also natural to try and understand someone else’s experiences through the lens of our own, but this is not the same as knowing how someone feels; it’s just trying to know, and we need to keep those thought processes internal. The only way to know exactly how someone else feels is to become the other person and experience the exact pain of the exact moment as that person feels it. Until a mad scientist perfects a mind-switching machine, there is no way to do this. We are not capable of knowing how someone else feels because other people bring a completely different set of experiences and emotions to the table every time. When we say we know how people feel, we enter a dangerous world of assumptions, but there’s a better approach.
Better option:
“I can’t imagine how this must feel, but I’m here for you.”
Why it’s better:
By saying something like this, you aren’t coopting the other person’s pain; you’re admitting a measure of ignorance (which helps built trust), and you’re also restating your support. Saying you don’t know invites the other person to tell you honestly what the experience feels like, and talking openly can be a great step toward healing. We’ll inevitably project some of our own experiences onto situations, but rather than launching straight into stories about how we’ve felt the same things, we can let our experiences inform the questions we ask. Here are some specific examples which, instead of just telling how the speaker feels, invite the other person to do so:
Unhelpful: “I know exactly how you feel; I was so mad when my grandpa died!”
Helpful: “This must be incredibly difficult. How are you feeling?”
Unhelpful: “I know exactly how you feel; I only found a job because of a connection!”
Helpful: “I imagine this feels kind of hopeless right now, but can you think of anyone who might be able to help?”
Unhelpful: “I know exactly how you feel; after my last break-up, I didn’t eat for four whole days.”
Helpful: “How are you taking care of yourself right now, and what can I do to support you in that?”
Always think for a moment before the words escape your mouth. See if you can reshape your feelings into a question to invite conversation rather than a story that might stifle it.
Always remember:
It’s okay not to know how other people feel;
in fact, it’s far, far better just to ask them.
If you enjoyed this post and found it helpful, I’ve got good news! There are a lot of terrible things to say in crisis situations, and I have recommendations for how we can approach many of them differently. I’ll be posting these regularly on the blog throughout 2018, and I welcome your suggestions on other harmful cliches we should cover! Email any suggestions to barchaplain@gmail.com or reach out on social media. As always, thank you for your input and support!