How Powerful Is That?

When she walked into the room, we had never seen someone so evidently down-hearted, so vulnerable, so defeated. She immediately folded into a corner of the sofa, crumpled and broken. Her grief was stark and palpable; she could barely talk, and hardly did throughout the conversation.

Her son had just died the night before, suddenly, tragically, shockingly. His death destroyed her spirit, her world. She didn’t have the words to express her profound grief. We didn’t have enough words to express our condolences at how heart-broken we felt about what had happened. 

We had been asked to lead his memorial service, to publicly make some sense out of the senseless circumstances. To comfort and reassure those who would attend his memorial service. To find a ray of light in a very dark and deep time of distress.

What little she did muster up to say as we met with her and her immediate family, all of them trying to make sense out of senselessness, was this - 

“I don’t think I can even go to his service. I just can’t do it.”

We didn’t try to talk her into it.

We simply asked her family who were able to talk, about his life, his goodness, his loss. 

They each did, to their own ability, in their deep grief. It was an incredibly  sacred time. Even in the midst of the incredible shock and sadness.

As we arrived for the memorial service several days later, we still didn’t know if she would be able to be there. But we hoped that she would be. We hoped that it could begin to inspire her long road toward healing.

As we waited in an anteroom for the service to begin, defying our expectations, she walked through the door. She didn’t crumble. She wasn’t noticeably broken. We greeted her and said we were so glad to see her there, that we hoped the service would be helpful for her.

And then, she surprised us with these words,

“If you don’t mind, I’d like to speak during the service, to say something about my son.”

We couldn’t believe what we were seeing, what we were hearing. She was a completely different person, from the one we were with a few days before.

She spoke movingly and lovingly during the service. Her words were beautiful and poignant. We considered it miraculous that she was there, much less that she spoke so powerfully and well. She was transformed, and she touched the hearts of everyone there in the room filled to capacity and overflowing.

We’ll never forget her transformation.

Someone To Tell It To always strives to meet people wherever they are, no matter where they may be emotionally. 

Broken. Shocked. Crumpled. Devastated. Defeated.

We meet them there. We allow them to express how they feel and how they are not certain they can go on. 

We don’t try to talk them out of it. We don’t tell them to not feel the way they are feeling. We don’t try to hurry them along to a better place. We simply allow them to be where they are.

We hope, by our listening, our validating of their feelings and thoughts, that we may give them the safe space they need to get it out, to acknowledge that in that moment, life just sucks.

And somehow in those moments of openness and vulnerability, they may purge enough to release the horrendous pressure they are feeling. And most times, when they do, they can begin to see another way, a way through, a way toward some light, a way to go on despite what has happened.

We meet them where they are, acknowledging the incredible pain and sorrow, and in the acknowledgement and knowing that they have been heard, their feelings begin to change. They are often a little lighter, a little less burdened. And with time, they can begin to feel as if they might be able to do what they thought to be impossible. 

Being heard and not judged, not feeling coerced into doing what they believe they cannot do, they can begin to see and feel as if their doubts are being lifted, their pain a little less acute, their fears not as strong.

They become stronger, better versions of themselves. They discover that they can do more, sometimes far more, than they ever thought possible. Or probable. They see that they are capable of facing some of their darkest moments with a power they never thought they could possess.

That’s what we saw in her that day at her son’s memorial service. A day she never thought she could face. But a day in which her love for her son won, over the very real horror of his death. 

The power of listening can ignite the power of the human spirit, to enable us to do the things we never believed we could. 

How sacred and amazing - and powerful - is that?