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Grief

Listening for Hope in the Midst of Lament

An interview with Aubrey Sampson on grief and resilience.

Today we continue in the series of interviews with experts on how resilience—one of the major themes of my book, A Walking Disaster: What Surviving Katrina and Cancer Taught Me About Faith and Resilience—connects to their area of study or expertise.

Aubrey Sampson, used with permission
Source: Aubrey Sampson, used with permission

This interview is on the subject of grief and resilience with Aubrey Sampson, author of the new book The Louder Song: Listening for Hope in the Midst of Lament. Sampson serves on the preaching team and as the director of equipping/discipleship at Renewal Church (which I also attend). I had the honor of writing an endorsement for her book, in which I wrote, "Having walked through suffering in my own life and with others, I know how tempting it can be to skip right past the hard stuff―and how much we miss out on if we do." I asked her to share a few insights about what the path to resilience can look like for those who grieve, and how we can walk alongside loved ones on that journey.

JA: You write about grief and hope in your latest book, The Louder Song, and about overcoming shame in your first book, Overcomer. What made you interested in these topics?

AS: In 2015, my cousin Cameron was killed tragically while snow-shoe hiking in Crater Lake National Park, Oregon. He stepped out onto an unmarked snow cornice and fell to his death. That fall, I woke up one morning inexplicably unable to walk. I was eventually hospitalized and later diagnosed with a chronic autoimmune disease. (As a survivor of sexual assault, I have sometimes wondered if there is a connection between my trauma and my illness.) The same year, my youngest son was recovering from spinal cord surgery and receiving ongoing care.

As you can imagine, I have spent the past several years working through some incredibly difficult emotions—grief, heartache, worry, shame, and more.

Over time, I grew interested in the concept of hope after loss. I became curious about the trauma we store in our bodies and how we can heal from within. I also began to wonder how communities find the resolve to move forward after tragedy. As a pastor, I am always considering how someone’s religious beliefs or faith experience might help (or hinder) the healing process.

I can only offer my singular perspective, but I wrote these books because I wanted, generally, to “principle-ize” my experience of pain, so that others wouldn’t feel alone in theirs.

JA: How can a grieving person grow in resilience?

AS: 1. Give yourself permission to be sad. During the onset of my illness and after Cameron’s death, a friend would take the time to text me encouraging words every now and then—usually along the lines of “You don’t have to have all the answers, Aubrey. It’s okay to just be sad.” She was giving me permission to grieve for as long as I needed to and as often as I needed to.

Because grief is the loss of anything significant, it’s important to give ourselves (or our hurting friends/loved ones) permission to grieve anything and everything—that could be medical concerns, job losses, family conflict, divorce, even the loss of friendship, etc.

It’s also incredibly helpful to remember that grief is dynamic. While many of us have some understanding of the “five stages of grief” in our minds, these stages are not consistent. In other words, we don’t need to be hard on ourselves if our grief doesn't follow a particular pattern.

The reality is that not all suffering is reasonable. Not all agonizing questions can be answered sensibly, and though it feels counter-intuitive, we can find resilience by embracing, rather than avoiding, our physical and emotion pain.

2. Create a repeatable event or symbol that honors your loss. Symbols are deeply meaningful for humanity. We are people who need to mark, remember, grieve, and celebrate. Consider creating an annual event, getting a tattoo, or planting a garden in your loved one’s honor. These seem like simple ideas, but the intentional act of remembering and marking—with your community around you—can create strength in sadness.

3. Know that the first year may not be the hardest. In spite of what people say, the first year of grieving a loved one is not always the hardest. The first year is the year of adrenaline, the year of “firsts.” It is the year of putting one foot in front of the other; the year of doing the next thing you are capable of doing. It’s a year of reckoning—a year of listing that which has been lost, and trying to make sense of what will never really make sense—this new reality.

Resilience after year one takes support—in a support group, in grief counseling, in a restorative yoga class, etc. If you are a person of faith, this can be a meaningful time to join a faith-based support group.

4. Be mindful of other sufferers. There are folks around the globe living under systemic oppression, in poverty and pain. Others have survived natural disasters, tragedy, or abuse. Join them on their mourning benches. If you are a praying person, pray for them. Consider donating money to a cause that you are passionate about. Volunteer your time with a relief organization. Send a hurting friend an encouraging note. If we can reach out of our pain into the pain of others, this increases our own compassion, moves us out of myopic focus (for at least awhile), and supports those who are hurting.

5. Engage in the enjoyable. This can come across as trite, but in the midst of our deepest pain, if we can make efforts to engage in healthy things that we enjoy— hiking, photography, music, art, exercise, writing, a great conversation with a friend—these help us come out of our isolation, one day at a time, and move us towards a place of hope.

JA: Any advice on how we might offer support for those who are grieving?

AS: Here are a few tips:

  • Sometimes we are afraid to bring up someone’s loss. But simple questions like, “How’s your grief today?” or “How are you doing with your loss?” offer support.
  • We tend to want to say things that try to “fix” or balance the emotional scales of grief. But those attempts (while well-meant) can come across as invalidating. Know that your presence—even crying with someone or sitting silently beside your hurting friend—is one of the most powerful gifts you can offer.
  • Jot down the dates of important anniversaries, and be sure to send a card, a text, or flowers that day. If you are uncertain of what to do, ask your friend, “How can I honor that person/that life experience with you?”
  • Offer practical support: drop off meals, hire a house cleaner, send over a babysitter, help with laundry, etc.

Above all, gauge, with sensitivity, what your friends can tolerate. Maybe today they want to go on a walk with you, but tomorrow they don’t. That’s okay. Grief can’t be rushed. Your job as a supporter is to keep showing up. That, more than almost anything else, will help strengthen a hurting person’s resilience.

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