June 30th marks the end of ICTG's program year.  Wow, has it been another year already?! 

We have a lot to celebrate from this past year, including cohosting our second Forum for Disaster Preparedness with Santa Barbara County VOAD, publishing our first Resource Guide, and two new Program Directors joining the ICTG team. 

We also have a lot to look forward to, including new Directors and Advisors joining the ICTG Boards in July and new research, tools, and educational events coming this summer and fall! 

We're so happy and want to say thank you to our supporters. To do so, we're having an end of year program drive all month. Learn about the ICTG Giving Tree here, and participate at any giving level that feels best to you.  Mid-year and quarterly gifts are SO helpful for planning effective program budgets.  We are grateful for every size contribution! 

AND, for this month, every gift over $100 received throughout June gets a free ICTG T-Shirt! (When donating online, remember to register with your email address so we can send you a thank you and find out the best mailing address to send your t-shirt). If you would like to mail a check, you can do so by printing the form found here. 

Thank you so much for considering partnering with us to support ministers leading congregations after trauma. Your gifts help provide research, education, and networking tools for ministers building and rebuilding congregational ministry after trauma. Every dollar makes a big difference. Thank you for your generosity! 

On the morning of February 7, 2013 I got a text message on my phone, “Thinking of you all on this important day.” 

I can remember thinking how odd it was that the sender would know that I was 5 minutes from beginning a clergy retreat in Newtown, CT.  The sender, a responder whom I met in the aftermath of the shooting in Kirkwood, and I had not been in touch in some time. 

And then it struck me: February 7, 2013, five years to the day, the shooting in Kirkwood had happened. 

I was about to begin an ecumenical all-day clergy retreat in Newtown, CT on the anniversary of the shooting in Kirkwood AND I had FORGOTTEN it was the anniversary date. What joy! And what heartbreak! Standing in front of a group of hurting and exhausted pastors, I had to refrain from jumping up and down and shouting 'alleluia' from the top of my lungs. 

It only took 5 years, but for the first time I realized I would be able to live my life and NOT have the Kirkwood shooting be ever present in my psyche. I recognized in that moment that my life had continued to grow and change and good things where springing up all around. The recognition of resurrection and springtime awakening in my soul occurred at the outset of a Newtown clergy retreat held the day before a blizzard in New England.

When I brought this recollection back to my spiritual director, she smiled simply and shook her head 'yes'. Goodness and beauty stuck their heads through the snow and grief and I was able to recognize both for what they were. The miracle of not recognizing the meaning of a text message marked for me a significant transition in my vocational resilience. And with it, I was able to be more fully present to the task at hand – creating and tending sacred space for a group of clergy traumatized by serving a community devastated by heinous gun violence.

The Kirkwood shooting changed the trajectory of my ministry. I would not have been standing in Newtown if it were not for Kirkwood. And my experience of a strange text message taught me that there could be moments of grace irrupting through the ordinary slog of my life. A moment, a light bulb moment of awe and goodness and joy, which comes now because of and in spite of what happened in Kirkwood. Rather than resisting the change to the trajectory of my ministry, I have, to some point, relaxed into being embraced by it. I would not choose this course for any pastor. But to resist the mighty forces of evil and darkness may have destroyed me. Instead, I learned to befriend those forces, to be embraced by the energy, and now, I continue to learn how to be alive again (and again) and notice the small beauties all around.

Rev. Dr. David A. Holyan is the pastor of the First Presbyterian Church of Kirkwood (St. Louis) and a certified compassion fatigue professional. He serves as a member of Presbyterian Disaster Assistance’s National Response Team and teaches Vocational Resilience at Eden Theological Seminary. In his spare time he builds Japanese fiberglass fly fishing rods.

Resilience is a popular term among traumatologists and first responders.  Partly because, humans are inclined to be resilient. The far reaching impacts of post-traumatic stress need not be so wide spread.  In fact, multi-disciplinary studies agree that about 80% of the population will naturally restore health after any given trauma. Many researchers over the last five to ten years have set out to identify what factors contribute to this natural ability, and also observe what factors contribute to the average 20% who do not restore health naturally.  

In our 2015 Resource Guide, ICTG focuses on the three most common factors: calming, community, and communication.  You can learn about these keys to resiliency by ordering a guide here. 

Another organization that has been studying these factors intently is the Headington Institute in Pasadena, CA.  They are a humanitarian response organization, providing aid internationally. Their tools are also useful for ICTG's audience – ordained and lay leaders ministering in the United States.  

Follow this link to learn more about the seven factors they have observed most often among resilient humanitarians.  

As I came to realize that the foundation of my call had collapsed beneath me, I'm thankful for the grace-filled work of a wonderful spiritual director and a compassionate therapist, both of whom created space for me to wander around in my brokenness, and for a spouse who loved me in my darkest moments.

While doing graduate work in theology, I stumbled upon the word bricolage. The dictionary defines it as “construction (as of a sculpture or a structure of ideas) achieved by using whatever comes to hand.” The basic idea is you create beauty or meaning out of whatever you can find lying around. As the 'sureness' of my prior convictions lay in waste within me, my spiritual director, my therapist, and the Holy Spirit provided space for me to meander around in the ruins of my soul and pick up some fragments that made sense to me. Three of those fragments continue to nurture my sense of vocational well-being: Psalm 23, serving on Presbyterian Disaster Assistance's National Response Team, and John 10:10-11.

Psalm 23

I had always read and understood Psalm 23 as beginning with verse 1 – The Lord is my shepherd I shall not want – and that the stillness and restoration of the soul adequately was prepared prior to entering the valley of the shadow of death. But in the dark shadows of my soul, as I searched for some sense of vocational identity, I realized that for me, Psalm 23 had to start at verse 4, be read to the end, and then finish with verses 1-3. I realized the promise of the psalm was unfolding very slowly for me. Months in the valley unsure of any presence of the Holy and then, small glimpses of God being with me. The table of blessing was set in the midst of my enemies, doubt and fear and anger were not removed prior to experiences of blessing – they were displaced. I have come to realize, appreciate, and love how Psalm 23 needs to be read in the round, again and again, so that no matter what is happening in my life, I can step into the cycle of dark valleys, comfort, blessing in the midst of struggles, an affirmation of goodness and mercy and belonging, and, finally rest and restoration of my sense of call.*

Serving on Presbyterian Disaster Assistance's National Response Team

In the fall of 2009 I was invited, in the midst of my brokenness, to join with volunteers within my denomination and primarily respond to human-caused disasters. The day after the shooting in Kirkwood, two members of PDA's National Response Team were in town to help us out. Now I'm one of those getting on a plane and flying into the chaos of unexpected disasters. My first major assignment was the shooting in Tucson, AZ. 

Being deployed in the moments after a human-caused disaster allows me to practice the ministry of attentive presence when the pathway forward for a suffering community is not yet clear. You are never sure what you will be attending to. Will it be the shooting or some prior unresolved trauma community members are now recalling? Learning to stay open, in the midst of so much pain and energy, and discerning what to attend to and what to let go is an art. Serving in Tucson began a process of redeeming the pain I held within. While it was not easy to step from my own experience of gun violence into another community's experience, I believe I was able to provide assistance in ways that encouraged and supported others in their moments of deep need.

John 10:10-11

“I came that they may have life and have it abundantly. I am the good shepherd.” These words from Jesus are etched in the dirt of my soul. One of the gifts I received in healing after the Kirkwood shooting is an appreciation for the moment and a diminished concern for tomorrow and the future.  With Jesus' affirmation of 'abundant life' without guarantee for how long that life will be, the reverberations of Ps. 23, I continue to ponder: what does it mean to live abundantly and appreciate the goodness of the shepherd in a world that can end (for me) in an instant? For me the answer is to be attentive to 'the now' and thankful for all.

Rev. Dr. David A. Holyan is the pastor of the First Presbyterian Church of Kirkwood (St. Louis) and a certified compassion fatigue professional. He serves as a member of Presbyterian Disaster Assistance’s National Response Team and teaches Vocational Resilience at Eden Theological Seminary. In his spare time he builds Japanese fiberglass fly fishing rods.

Part of my work as the ICTG Program Director for Spiritual Direction involves researching the past and emerging landscape of trauma-informed spiritual direction in order to develop new tools and programming to assist faith leaders leading congregations after trauma. For example, I am finding fascinating research being done on how spirituality is experienced developmentally, for instance, in a person’s attachment to God. More over, in my travels these days, I am hearing from many field experts who are beginning to turn their scholarly and practical attention to incorporating spirituality into traditional psychotherapy. The goal of this emerging focus is to help survivors in more holistic and multi-dimensional ways. 

Most recently, I attended a convention addressing complex trauma, which involves affects from ongoing abuse. One of the recognized affects of complex trauma, in particular, is a disrupted belief system. In cases of ongoing abuse, the ways in which persons find meaning become altered, and their senses of spirituality become troubled. Listening to my clinical colleagues wrestle with how to incorporate spirituality into their practices, I was touched by the incredible honor and opportunity that being a spiritual director or clergy member allows when addressing the spiritual needs of a survivor of trauma.  

After experiencing trauma, in this case, complex trauma, one of the choices a person of faith eventually makes is, “Do I still believe?” One of the challenges clinicians face in addressing this area is incorporating a client’s spiritual practices or in making spiritual recommendations into what clinicians traditionally keep a “values free environment.”  Sacred experiences and expressions are so personal and “loaded” for many people that it can feel incredibly tricky to integrate into therapy.  As spiritual directors, however, we possess the distinct honor and opportunity of addressing spiritual needs, getting to intimately talk with people about belief and meaning.  Broadly, we focus on

     How they discover meaning?

     How they experience holiness?

     What has changed?

     What they hope for?

Then, from within our own faith traditions, we can

     Give structure to prayer

     Instruction in mindfulness

     Participate in celebrations of awe and wonder

     Encourage compassion and acceptance for self

     Support connectedness to others through music, spoken word, and other rituals

We can do all these things without hesitating to enter in to this sacred space with another.

In the same way that I believe a spiritual director or clergy member needs to have a go-to referral list of trusted therapists and others who can help congregants address psychological development needs or critical mental health concerns, I see too how therapists benefit from a reliable referral list of spiritual directors and clergy to partner with in helping clients discern safe places and people with whom they can process their spiritual life.  In expanding these types of referral lists, therapists might consider: 

     How aware are you of the faith traditions represented among your clients?  

     Do you practice helping someone discern healthy spirituality from unhealthy?  

     Do you partner with local clergy or spiritual directors to attend to your client’s sacred dissonance in the face of trauma?  

And if you are a spiritual director: 

     Are you aware of your own mental health development? 

     Are you aware of your own places of questioning?  

     How do you feel about companioning someone who may choose to leave the well-worn path of tradition in an attempt to integrate their new perceptions of the world with their faith?  

     Do you have a well-developed theology of suffering?  

     What helps you to be secure in your faith without needing to offer specific theodicies to survivors?

As we at ICTG continues to expand programs and tools to support those caring for souls, I find it incredibly encouraging to hear about the research emerging among my colleagues as together we work to create vibrant professional communities committed to whole person health and spiritual care in the light of trauma.