The stories we carry, and the cost of caring deeply
Many missionaries and nonprofit workers spend their lives listening to stories of immense suffering.
War, abuse, displacement, poverty, family breakdown, and loss can become part of everyday conversations for those serving in difficult contexts.
Sometimes our role is simply to listen. Other times, we walk alongside people as they begin to make sense of what they have experienced and slowly put the pieces of their lives back together.
But what we do not always realise is that hearing and holding these stories carries a cost.
When we spend our days sitting with the pain of others, those stories do not always leave us when the conversation ends.
They stay with us.
And over time, they begin to accumulate.
Story after story. Trauma after trauma.
When someone else's trauma begins to affect us
We can sometimes tell ourselves that because the person we are listening to has experienced something far worse than we have, we have no right to feel affected.
After all, we were not the ones who experienced the trauma directly.
But the reality is that simply hearing, holding, and empathising with someone else's suffering can affect our own nervous system, emotions, and worldview.
This experience is known as Secondary Traumatic Stress (STS).
Trauma researcher Charles Figley describes it as the stress that can arise from helping, or wanting to help, someone who is traumatised or suffering.
In other words, we do not have to experience a traumatic event ourselves for it to begin affecting us.
This can be particularly confusing when the stories we hear feel deeply shocking to us, while the person sharing them may have lived with those experiences for years.
For someone who has not grown up in a context where violence, abuse, or displacement are commonplace, hearing these stories can be profoundly unsettling.
Yet for the person telling the story, those experiences may have become tragically normal.
Sometimes what feels like a devastating story for the listener is, for the person telling it, simply another Tuesday.
The hidden cost of caring
When we are regularly exposed to the suffering of others without healthy ways of processing it, the emotional weight can begin to change us.
We may become exhausted, cynical, or emotionally distant.
The stories we once held with compassion can begin to feel like burdens we no longer have the capacity to carry.
Over time, we may find ourselves becoming less empathetic and less able to create the safe spaces that others need. Not just others but also what we ourselves need.
Part of the difficulty is that we often carry an unspoken assumption from ourselves or others that because we chose this work, we should be able to manage its emotional cost. We knew this work would be difficult. Surely that should make it easier to carry?
But it doesn't.
Knowing that something will be difficult does not reduce the weight of the burden it represents.
Secondary traumatic stress is not a sign that we are weak, uncommitted, or unsuited to our work.
In many ways, it reflects something deeply human.
We are designed to respond to the suffering of others. Our empathy allows us to listen, connect, and care.
But we were never meant to carry the pain of others without having space to process it ourselves.
So, how do we care for those who care?
If we want to continue serving with compassion over the long term, we need to recognise the emotional cost of the work and find healthy ways to address it.
Here are three important steps.
1. Recognise what we are carrying
The first step is acknowledging that secondary traumatic stress is real.
The stories we hear affect us.
Recognising this does not diminish the suffering of the people we serve. Nor does it mean that we are responding incorrectly.
It simply means that we are human.
Burying our emotions or forcing ourselves to keep going without processing what we have experienced can have significant consequences for our wellbeing and, eventually, for our ability to continue serving.
We need to give ourselves permission to acknowledge what we are carrying.
2. Learn not to carry these burdens alone
Trauma can create a sense of isolation.
We may find it difficult to reach out, especially when we believe that our own struggles are insignificant compared to those of the people we serve.
But there is a reason that counsellors, psychologists, and other helping professionals work within systems of supervision and support.
They understand that they were never meant to carry every story alone.
The same is true for missionaries and nonprofit workers.
We need relationships where we can speak honestly about what we are experiencing. Places where we can be heard, supported, and reminded that we are not alone.
And while personal prayer and time with God can be deeply meaningful, we should not assume that these are the only ways we are meant to process our experiences.
Human beings are relational.
Sometimes, God's care for us comes through the presence, wisdom, and compassion of another person.
3. Make space for regular debriefing
We often move from one difficult experience to the next without taking time to process what has happened.
A structured debrief creates intentional space to stop, reflect, and make sense of what we have been carrying.
It allows us to name what has affected us, recognise what we may have lost, and begin to regain perspective.
Importantly, debriefing is not only for moments of crisis.
We do not need to wait until we are exhausted, cynical, or considering leaving our work before seeking support.
Regular debriefing can become part of a healthy rhythm of care. It offers an opportunity to process the emotional cost of our work before that cost becomes overwhelming.
It can also help us return to our work with renewed energy, a clearer sense of purpose, and a deeper understanding of why what we do matters.
Caring for ourselves is part of caring for others
For missionaries and nonprofit workers, the line between work and the rest of life is often blurred.
The people we serve may also be our neighbours, friends, church community, or extended family.
We may live in the same communities where suffering is taking place.
There is not always an obvious moment when the workday ends and we can simply leave what we have heard behind.
This is why caring for ourselves cannot be separated from caring well for others.
The goal is not to become unaffected by suffering.
Our empathy is part of what allows us to sit with people in painful places, listen well, and offer genuine compassion.
The goal is to learn how to remain compassionate without carrying every story alone.
Secondary traumatic stress reminds us that there is a cost to caring deeply.
Recognising that cost does not diminish the suffering of the people we serve. It does not mean we are weak or that we have failed in our calling.
It simply means we are human.
If we want to continue serving with compassion for the long haul, we need places where we, too, can be heard.
We need relationships where we can speak honestly about what we have witnessed and carried.
And sometimes, we need someone to intentionally help us lay those experiences out, make sense of them, and find a way forward.
Those who spend their lives creating safe spaces for others need safe spaces too.
At Oasis Sanctuaries, we believe that caring for those who care is an essential part of sustaining compassionate, trauma-informed service.
