Even before the shockwaves of the global pandemic and economic lockdown, trauma was all-too-present in the lives of many. According to the National Center for Post-traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD), “Going through trauma is not rare. About six of every 10 men (60%) and five of every 10 women (50%) experience at least one trauma in their lives. Women are more likely to experience sexual assault and child sexual abuse. Men are more likely to experience accidents, physical assault, combat, disaster, or to witness death or injury.” A good portion of my work as a therapist has centered around recovery from the effects of personal trauma. As a therapist, I know how to help people understand their trauma, come to terms with it, and begin the healing journey. 

Outside of the counseling setting, understanding how and when to help becomes less clear. Some people may desire to hide the effects of trauma and pretend everything is “fine.” There can be shame involved with admitting to the debilitating results of trauma. What can I do, as a leader, to help those around me cope with trauma? The role of a leader does not always (nor should it) lead me into the role of therapist or counselor. If I am not acting as a therapist or counselor, what can I give to the traumatized individuals I lead? How can I respect the boundaries in my leadership role while still providing help to those in need?

Reject Personalizing the Trauma

Leaders, by nature, place themselves at the forefront of many decisions and situations. When dealing with a traumatized individual, I believe this tendency needs to be muted. In trauma, the what may be experienced by many, but the how is highly personal. As a leader, my function is not to place a value judgment on whether the degree of trauma is legitimate nor attempt to “fix” the other person. Again, leaders are not therapists. Instead, my role, as I see it, is to listen so I can understand. Once I can understand, my capacity to find ways to support that person increases.  

Nurture a Relationship of Hope

One of my functions, as a leader, is to point the way to the future. At work, home, in the community, or the Church, I have the responsibility to project and articulate an outcome beyond what is currently visible and provide others with a vision of hope. To me, the future and hope are inexorably linked. This belief is why the theme verse for my counseling center is Jeremiah 29:11: “‘For I know the plans I have for you,’ declares the Lord, ‘plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.’”

Trauma takes hope, with its optimistic vision of the future, and shakes it to the core—the more severe the trauma, the greater the aftershock. When trauma compounds trauma, repetition can create a destructive resonance that breaks hope apart. For a person who begins with hope, trauma can severely undercut that belief. For a person with little hope to start, experiencing trauma acts to validate a bleak future of I-told-you-so.

As a Christian, my faith firmly establishes that hope exists outside of circumstance, beautifully articulated in Hebrews 11:1. My faith, then, becomes the foundation for the hope I can share with those whose vision is clouded by trauma. As a leader, my job is to nurture a relationship of hope, articulating with confidence my belief in the resiliency of the individual and my trust in God’s future.

Embrace Your Leadership Role

Over the years, I have influenced many people through my role as a therapist. If I were to go over my 35 plus years of professional records, I could probably come up with a finite number. However, I do not think I could calculate the number of people I have, hopefully, influenced in the various leadership positions in my lifetime. Leaders do not always realize the profound effect they have on those around them. If you doubt that, think back to a teacher or coach or neighbor or family member who “led” you by words, actions, or example. You probably never really said anything, but their influence was profound—and sometimes it was profound because it occurred amid trauma.

When the world is shaking and shifting, when those I am leading are in danger of losing their balance, I want to be the stable, dependable ground they can run to for help. I want to be the type of leader others trust to provide clarity, optimism, and hope. As a result, I need to have resources and reinforcements in place to strengthen myself so I can, in turn, strengthen others. After all, there is no trauma exclusion clause for leaders.

Counting the Cost of Hope

One last thought—those we lead in our workplaces, churches, communities, and homes can be subject to trauma at the most inconvenient times. Dealing with trauma is not something you can schedule on your calendar when you have a free afternoon. The adage, “when it rains, it pours,” sometimes seems tailor-made for trauma.

With the weight of multiple responsibilities, leaders must find the compassion, understanding, and empathy needed to address the effects of trauma, even when it seems overwhelming. As one author put it, “Demonstrating true empathy can be a costly discipline. It requires us to sacrifice time and convenience, to alter our personal schedules and reorganize our priorities. It even requires the humility to hold back our best advice so that we can come alongside those in need and invite them into healing.” Such are the sacrificial demands—and rewards—of servant-leadership.

Endnotes

¹https://www.ptsd.va.gov/understand/common/common_adults.asp.

² Jeremiah 29:11, NIV.

³ Leiendecker, B.M. (2020). Trauma in America: Understanding how people face hardship and how the church offers hope. American Bible Society, p. 103.