Becoming People Who See: Walking Alongside Those Impacted by Trauma

“That was so traumatic.”

“I’m traumatized.”

“I have PTSD.”

I often hear these comments – on social media, in passing, as I listen to a story from a friend’s everyday life. Sometimes in reference to an embarrassing moment, a small misfortune, or a distressing situation. Other times, people are referring to the very real pain they’ve experienced and the physical, emotional, psychological, and spiritual effects they experience as a result.

I was at a conference a few weeks ago where I met a woman who studied social work in the late-80s/early-90s. She said they weren’t taught about “trauma” back then. It was a term not yet developed by those in the helping professions. I’m amazed at how our understanding has grown over the last four decades.

In a world fixated on resilience and overcoming hardship, Christians are called to recognize and respond to the realities of trauma. We do this by embodying Christ’s compassion through patient, faithful presence with those who suffer and by creating institutions and systems that are aware of trauma, its effects, and how to respond.

Defining Trauma

So, what is trauma, anyway? 

Trauma is the experience of a distressing event in which a person’s capacity to cope is exceeded. In short, trauma isn’t in the event itself. Two people can experience the same or similar situations and have two vastly different responses depending on the resources (internal and external) available to them and their resulting capacity to cope with the distress. When a person’s capacity to cope is exceeded, trauma is what’s left. Trauma lives in the body—in the nervous system—and manifests in various emotional, psychological, and physical symptoms that impact the physical body, relationships, and other areas of functioning.

Major events such as war, natural disasters, and violence can result in trauma. For example, a war veteran may react uncharacteristically to a firecracker on the fourth of July. The “pop” reminds their nervous system of the sound of the bullet releasing from the barrel. They may experience symptoms of hyperarousal in that moment – quickening of the heart, sweating, or irritability. Their nervous system remembers the distress connected to the sound of a loud bang – in the moment, the brain and body literally cannot differentiate the firecracker today from the sounds of warfare from decades ago. This is why unresolved trauma is so challenging to live with – when triggered, the brain literally cannot differentiate what happened in the past from the reality of the present. Just moments before, he was present and aware the war was years ago. At the sound of the firecracker, he is in the war all over again.

Trauma may also result from seemingly smaller, but repetitive interpersonal experiences, often from early childhood. Experiences of chronic abuse, neglect, invalidation, and other interpersonal harm or conflict can create memories stored in the brain and body – the nervous system – as trauma. When a distressing memory is triggered (by a stimulus experienced through the senses that the brain connects to the original traumatic experience), the body reacts as if the original event is happening in real time. For example, smelling a scent reminiscent of fragrance worn by an abusive partner, the person’s nervous system may respond as if they were, once again, in physical danger. Just like the war veteran, this person struggles to differentiate the past experience from the present reality, when triggered. With this experience comes a host of unwanted psychological, emotional, and physical symptoms. 

So, what do we do with this understanding of trauma?

Social work practitioners engage in what is called “trauma-informed care” (TIC) in their work with vulnerable people. This approach asks not, “what’s wrong with you?” but “what happened to you?” Two primary concepts of the model are Safety and Trust and may be applied in our relationships and institutions as we seek to create better systems of support for those living with trauma.

Safety and Trust

A primary loss for a survivor of trauma, especially interpersonal trauma, is that of felt safety: an internal sense of safety that is separate from physical safety. One can be physically safe yet experience a prominent sense of unsafety in one’s body. This is an experience that one cannot “logic” themselves out.  This internal sense of danger or fear is persistent, though the physical evidence of safety may communicate otherwise. Just as the felt sense of safety was distorted through relationship, the experience of safety may be restored through relationship built on safety and trust. 

How can the church build communities of trust?

Rebuilding this sense of safety is a primary task for the survivor of trauma, and the church has a role to play. Galatians 6:2 tells us to “Bear one another’s burdens.” That is, we must help one another carry what was never meant to be carried alone. How do we do that?

To help carry a burden, we must first see the people in our lives who are carrying a load they were never meant to shoulder on their own. In Genesis 16:13, our God is called “El-Roi”, the God who sees. This comes from the mouth of Hagar, an Egyptian maid, who has just left her home with Abram and Sarai. An angel of the Lord comes to her in the wilderness (v. 7), calls her by name (v. 8), and asks her, “Where have you come from and where are you doing?” Surely, the angel already knew where Hagar had been and that she had no place to go. The angel had a message for Hagar, but first, he calls her by name and asks about her past. I imagine what he was really communicating, “I see you. I want to know you. Tell me, what has happened to you?”. The angel goes on to tell Hagar that she is with child and that she should name him Ishmael (v. 11). Ishmael – “God hears.” In these five verses tucked in the story of Hagar, a maid, we learn that God sees and God hears. She had just become pregnant by Abram and was treated so poorly by Sarai that she left the place she called home. I doubt she had many resources or supports to rely on in the aftermath of her leaving. I wonder if her capacity to cope was exceeded. God intervenes. He sees her and hears her.

Becoming people who see and hear one another

Slow down. Pay attention. Choose compassion and care.

There is a word for becoming people who see one another: attunement. When we attune to others, we offer presence. We pay attention. We are calm, regulated, and ready to hear and know the person in front of us. As we become people who are attuned to one another, we create relational spaces of trust where felt safety is cultivated and memories are healed. 

 Attunement does not require fixing, advice-giving, or immediate action. We help our fellow image bearers thrive when we show up, present to their pain, open to hearing their experiences, and knowing the impact their experience has on their life.

The experience of felt safety within relationships leads to a greater ability to trust the world and those in it.

Beyond interpersonal relationships, the body of Christ can create systems and spaces for healing, where safety is found. Though the term “trauma” is often over-used and mis-used in our culture, Christian communities cultivate safety when they are comfortable acknowledging the realities of trauma in their own backyard.

Instead of denial of pain within the body, we acknowledge the harm that happens – within our families, within our congregations, and within our communities – and commit, together, to creating spaces where people can come forward with their pain.

We can also become a people who prevent further trauma. While individuals can build personal tools for coping, institutions can develop shared language around the realities of trauma and comfortability addressing harm. What we don’t know, we can’t address. What we don’t choose to see, we can’t confront. What we don’t pay attention to and listen to, we can’t heal.

One day God will wipe away all our tears – there will be no more mourning, no suffering, no grief. Until then, we can be a people who, with Christ, bear the burdens of our brothers and sisters by being willing to know, see, and listen with compassion and care.