Heather Evans: Self and Soul Care

Social worker and therapist Dr. Heather Evans, a global expert on trauma healing and post-traumatic growth, addressed the second plenary session of THI’s 2025 Global Community of Practice gathering. She helped normalize the reality of secondary trauma, and offered simple and powerful practices for caring well for ourselves—that our ministry might continue to bear fruit. This transcript has been lightly edited for length and clarity.

“This work has changed me”

I come to you as a fellow sojourner in this work. As a counselor and a clinical social worker, my life’s calling has been trauma healing—walking alongside survivors of childhood sexual abuse, domestic violence, clergy abuse, and human trafficking, to name a few. Through my global work, I’ve also met survivors of genocide, war, persecution, natural disaster, and more.

This work has changed me. 

On a daily basis, I bear the weight of betrayal, corruption, abuse of power. I recall one time, several years ago, a friend of mine asking me, “How do you think your work has shaped you?” I took that as an assignment, and I now pass that assignment on to you: to name the ways I’ve been changed.

I realized I see the world, the Church, and even God through new lenses. At times, that’s led to loneliness or doubt, but also to deeper compassion and understanding. So the truth is, this work changes us. And few of us understand that, fully, when we begin.

Why does it change us?

To enter trauma healing is to bear witness. To bear witness means to see, hear, and be present to suffering and injustice. Trauma expert Sandra Bloom describes bearing witness as one of the most powerful and non-violent ways to transform the world, because it changes both the one who speaks and the one who listens.

Choosing what shapes us

Think about a difficult story that you have listened to.

When we truly bear witness, with our hearts and our minds engaged, we feel it. You may feel it in your body, such as a tightness in your chest, or you notice you are fighting tears. Trauma engages our mind, body, and spirit. And as we listen, something in us shifts. 

Why? Because we are image-bearers. 

We are made in the image of our God. And as image-bearers, what we enter into, what we bear witness to, forms us. We become like that which we reflect upon. We are always being shaped by what we see, what we hear, and who we sit with. 

Most of that formation happens without us realizing it. The invitation today is to become intentional about how we are being formed. 

Bearing witness can feel like we’re walking through the wreckage of something sacred that has been destroyed. It impacts all of our senses. It can overwhelm our capacities. Sometimes it even stirs up our own—unhealed or healed—stories.  We can absorb the very toxins that we are trying to treat. We are capable of being wounded, or of wounding others, if we are not paying attention to our own hearts. 

So the question becomes: How do we care for ourselves well? How do we sit with suffering and evil without being shaped by it? How do we stay open-hearted while witnessing such difficult stories?

That is the work of formation. Choosing what shapes us, so that even as we bear witness to trauma, we are continually being restored by the One who heals. 

Practice: Remember why you do this work

I want us to start by thinking about the cost and call of this work. I want us to start by remembering our why. And that is going to be your first tip for how to care for yourself well: remembering our why.

So I want you to pull out the notebook in front of you, because I actually want you to write this on a separate piece of paper that won’t get lost in your notebook. I want it to remind you and put this somewhere you will see it, or on a small card that you will keep with you. And I would like you to write in one or two sentences, “Why have you been called to this work? What has called you to it?” 

Remembering our why is one thing that keeps us grounded when the work becomes difficult. 

Practice: Describe the work in honest words

And it does become difficult. Because to follow in the image and character of our Lord, there will be sacrifice. For most of you, trauma healing work is needed even when we may be experiencing the same trauma as those we are working with. Trauma that does not yet have a “post-,” but is ongoing. 

For all of us, I think, the work is greater than our capacity, our time and our resources. There are many costs. 

Bring to mind a difficult time in your ministry, when the work felt especially heavy. Think about how that impacted your body, your mind, and your spirit. 

With that in mind, think of some words that describe the work. 

Of course we can say, “The work is rewarding, it’s inspiring, it’s hopeful.” But the work is also difficult. It’s heavy. It’s tiresome. It’s lonely. It’s hopeless. It’s dark. 

You sit hearing dark stories that include chaos—ugly details of sin and evil. The work is unending. 

This is what shapes us. 

Practice: Recognize the symptoms of secondary trauma

Start thinking of some symptoms of trauma that you have been exposed to, that you teach of in your lessons—the ones you’ve witnessed first-hand, the ones you’ve heard about. Because we are image-bearers, exposed to trauma in our ministries, we too will experience these symptoms of trauma.

For me, I want to isolate, to be alone. I may lose motivation. I may experience feeling hopeless and helpless: “Are we really making a difference?” For you it may be some other things as well. “I really don’t really feel like going to work today.” “I wish I didn’t have to lead this healing group.” “I’m tired, so tired that my bones feel tired and my spirit feels tired.” 

Maybe it hits on a deeper level: your sense of purpose or hope, or even your faith in God. 

I want to make sure you are familiar with “secondary trauma”: 

The negative transformation in the helper that results from empathic engagement with trauma survivors and their trauma material, combined with a commitment or responsibility to help them. Its hallmark is disrupted spirituality, just as with direct psychological trauma, in which the signature loss is that of meaning and hope. 

I know you do this work with empathy and compassion and the love of Christ, and you have committed yourself to trauma healing ministry. We can expect that our faith will be challenged. We can expect there will be seasons where we lose meaning and hope. 

When you experience these symptoms, you are not alone: you are experiencing secondary trauma.

How our roots affect our fruit

The Bible often uses the image of a tree or a vine to describe our relationships with God. There’s so much we can learn from a tree: its roots where it is planted, and the fruit it produces. Those things help us understand our own spiritual lives and the work we do.

From John 15:1–11: Without Him, we can’t bear fruit. The word “abide” used in John 15 means to stay close, to remain. When we stay close to Jesus, there are beautiful promises: We will bear much fruit. We will be loved by the Father. Our joy will be full. We will be called his friends, chosen to bear lasting fruit. 

But there are also warnings in John 15. Branches that don’t stay connected stop producing fruit, they wither, and eventually, they are cut off. When we stay rooted in Him, we receive life, peace, and stability. Just like a tree needs water and sunlight to grow strong, we need spiritual nourishment to stay healthy. 

Now trees don’t always grow in perfect conditions, do they? They face storms, drought, even fire—and they still have to stand. The same is true for us. In trauma healing ministry, the conditions can be very difficult. We hear painful stories; we see suffering. Sometimes we hear things that stir our own stories. And many times we don’t have the resources to help the great needs or the difficult questions in the regions and countries where we are working. 

Those experiences, they shake our roots. We may start to question if God is really good and faithful. We might begin to view Him through the lens of trauma we hear, instead of letting His truth shape how we see the trauma. Sometimes we drift into pride, thinking we are somehow better than the people we help. Or we may even enter into coping patterns that are not healthy for us.

All of that can show that our roots are under stress. We cannot always avoid the hard conditions, but we can learn to care for our roots—to protect our minds, bodies, and spirits, so that we stay grounded in Him. 

Our roots will impact our fruit. The fruit of our trauma healing ministry has everything to do with our roots, with where we are rooted.

What our fruits can tell us

In Luke 6:43–46, Jesus talks again about trees and fruit: He says, “No good tree bears bad fruit.” 

The kind of fruit a tree produces tells us what’s happening beneath the surface. Our roots represent our hearts, what’s underground and unseen; our fruit represents our word, our choices, behaviors that come from our inner life. 

Here’s a picture for you to think about. Imagine there was an avocado tree that kept producing brown, shriveled avocados. That tells us something about the condition of the tree, doesn’t it? But instead of seeing if we can make the tree healthy, I just take a hammer and nail fresh avocados to the branches. It sounds silly, doesn’t it? It might look better for a moment, but the tree is still sick inside.

That’s what it’s like when we try to fix the outside without addressing what’s going on in the heart. 

If we are going to help others grow healthy fruit, we have to let God tend to our roots first. Who we really are is what is inside, and nothing is hidden from Him. We can only do God’s work as He continues to do His work in us.

So how do we nourish our roots? 

Self-care as stewardship

We need the living Word of God to revive our souls. We need prayer, the presence of the Holy Spirit as we pray. And we need fellowship, we need community—especially others who understand this kind of work. That’s why I’m so thankful you took the time and made the sacrifices to be here. I hope you already feel so encouraged, so refreshed, that your roots are getting nourished as you are here today.

When we stay rooted in Christ, our lives bear fruit that lasts; our ministry bears fruit that lasts. That’s what true self-care and soul-care are: not a quick fix or something extra to add to our to-do list. It’s about tending your roots, staying close to the source of life and letting Him nourish what He has planted in you. 

I want to leave you with a mindset about self-care that is realistic and motivating. 

We have many barriers when we hear that term, “self-care.” Maybe some of you say, “Well, that feels selfish.” Or, “I don’t have money to take care of myself.” “I don’t have time to take a vacation.” “There’s too much work; I’m too busy.” “That doesn’t sound spiritual.” “I need to sacrifice for the ministry.” “If I admit that I need to care for myself, that sounds weak. How will my supervisor hear that? What will they think?”

I want to normalize this idea of self-care through the lens of stewardship.

Stewardship means the careful and responsible management of something entrusting to our care. So what would it look like to carefully and responsibly manage the trauma healing ministries—and even our own well-being—as an act of stewardship? 

To practice trauma stewardship is to remember the sacred privilege of being called to help. It means maintaining integrity, ethics, and responsibility in every decision—from how we show up with others to how we tend our own souls. It’s not a one-time effort; it’s a daily practice of tending to hardship and pain with presence and compassion. 

It’s believing that both joy and suffering are a part of life, and that suffering can be transformed into growth and healing when we remain grounded, whole, and present—even in the face of great need.

Practice: Cultivate the opposite

I want to challenge you to think about your commitment to stewarding well your own roots—your own body, mind, and spirit. 

One of the things I’ve learned from Dr. Diane Langberg is the idea of caring for ourselves with having things that are the opposite of the work that we do. She talks about the world “antidote,” a remedy that counteracts. When someone is sick, they get medicine to counteract that sickness. 

So if we go back to the words that describe our work, the symptoms of our trauma, we have to have things that are the opposite of the work we do. I will give you a few examples. 

• What’s the opposite of difficult? Let’s go with easy. I saw some of you dancing last night. For many of you—especially if you’re not a white person from America—dancing is very easy. Laughing is easy. Breathing is easy. What else is easy for you? Go ahead and write it down. 

• What’s the opposite of heavy?Light. Maybe listening to music is something that makes you feel light. Maybe it’s a book that doesn’t have anything to do with trauma. Maybe it’s watching a show, or it’s playing! Play is very light. 

• What’s the opposite of messy? Orderly. This idea of self-care has changed how I feel when I wash the dishes. Now, when I wash the dishes—when I clean, when I organize—I remember I’m doing something that is the opposite of the messy work that I do. 

• What about lonely? The opposite of lonely is connecting. When do you connect with others? Who are the people you connect with when it’s lifegiving? Who can you connect with that understands your ministry? 

• Let’s take another word: ugly. The opposite is beautiful. Think about the things you see in your day-to-day life that are beautiful: the sun coming up or the sun going down, or the flowers that you pass by. Maybe you put a photo that is beautiful on your lockscreen. Maybe you take time to be out in nature. 

There are so many things we can do—that we are already doing—that can refresh our mind, body, and spirit because they are the opposite of our work. 

I want you to think of at least three things you can do that are the opposite of your work. Now, who will hold you accountable?

Organizational trauma

Organizations can also become traumatized—becauase of the difficult work you are doing, because of a lack of resources. Maybe there is a lack of attention to self-care, a lack of supervision or training. Our responses when an organization goes through a major change can create a traumatized system.

I’m here to suggest you can take some of these concepts back to your organization. Your supervision and care for each other, your attention to giving people permission for self-care, can make a huge difference in your trauma healing ministry.

Meditation: Imagine you are a tree

Take a few deep breaths.

Imagine that you are a tree. What kind of tree would you be? Picture its shape, its color, its strength.

Psalm 1 says, “Those who delight in the law of the Lord are like trees planted by streams of water, which yield their fruit in season, and whose leaf does not wither.” 

See yourself as that kind of tree, planted and nourished.

Look around. What kind of landscape surrounds you? Are there other trees nearby? Notice the beauty of where you’ve been planted.

Now bring your attention to the trunk: strong, upright, connecting earth and sky. Follow it up into the branches and out to the leaves.

If it’s a fruit tree, notice the fruit hanging there: evidence of life flowing through you. 

Now follow the trunk downward to the roots. See how they spread deep into the soil, anchoring you firmly. Feel the strength and stability that comes from being rooted. 

In John 15, Jesus says, “I am the vine, you are the branches. If you remain in me and I in you, you will bear much fruit.” Imagine the life of Christ like living water, flowing through your roots, up the trunk and out into the branches. You are nourished, sustained, alive in Him. 

Now imagine a gentle rain falling, soaking into the soil and reaching your roots. The water moves upward through you, refreshing every part. Then the sun returns, warm and steady, drying your leaves.

You stand strong, balanced, and whole. 

Now a storm begins to form. The wind picks up. The branches sway, leaves fall, some fruit drops to the ground—but your roots hold firm. You are grounded in the love of God. And though you move, you do not break.

Gradually, the storm fades. The sun returns. The birds come back. You are still standing, renewed, restored, rooted.

Take one more deep breath in and out. 

Remember your strength comes not from striving, but from abiding. YOu are a tree planted by living water. Your roots go deep. Your fruit will come in its season. 

Conclusion

You are bringing hope, healing, restoration. 

You are doing life-changing, sometimes life-saving work for individuals and communities. You are changing the lives of future generations because of your work. It is His work, and He has invited us into it. 

As we remember why He called us to this work, we remain in Him, connected to our one true vine. 

See Dr. Evans’ recorded session from the 2025 THI Global Community of Practice event in Nairobi, Kenya.