Although the story of intentional community reintegration for parolees includes a remarkable drop in recidivism (re-offending), it supports so much more than that.
For much of Todd Cawley’s life, he lived in cycles of addiction, crime and incarceration. However, today the trajectory of Todd’s life has been radically impacted by his faith, healthy relationships and practices, and giving back to the community as he invests in those whose lives have also been decimated by addiction and the pattern of crime that often follows.
Enjoy Todd’s story as he talks about not only walking free of crime and addiction, but reveals a life where he is once again a contributing member of our Canadian society:
TM tells of spiralling out of control, incarceration, a key turning point, & her path toward reintegration. A powerful story of a life transformed—in her own words:
I recently attended a commencement ceremony at Kinghaven Treatment Center. One of the men graduating from the program had asked for Better Life support and to be reintegrated into a church community. Frankly, I wasn’t sure what to expect. However, I was blown away!
Four men stood up to share their stories and spoke about the people, the program, and the relationships.
As I listened to men tell about their experiences and friends and family share their words of support, I couldn’t help but think this was a picture of healthy reintegration! This was what every offender desperately needed for healthy reintegration. It was powerful!
And it was a picture of why Better Life and the entire reintegration network is so committed to placing parolees into supportive faith communities where the experience and modelling of healthy relationships, needed resources, and faith practices can have a game-changing/life-changing impact on an offender.
The stories at the ceremony also highlighted that a very high percentage of offenders wrestle with issues of mental illness, including post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) and addiction. What may come as a surprise is, far too often, addiction treatment and mental health are left unaddressed as an offender moves from a Correctional Institution to parole.
It’s heartbreaking that, when the challenges of addiction and mental illness are left unaddressed, the probability of reoffending is extremely high, even when we place the affected individual into a faith community.
As these challenges become more obvious to Better Life, we have renewed our commitment to advocating for the men and women we support so that both addiction and mental health needs are taken seriously and addressed. We will continue to advocate for those who are challenged by addiction to go into treatment before they are reintegrated back into the community so that they have the best opportunity to experience a healthy reintegration and become a contributing member of their community.
As we think about the issues of addiction treatment and therapy for mental health issues, we were recently able to send DG to a very specific type of therapy for PTSD. DG’s experience shows how valuable therapy can be for reintegration.
DG writes:
Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing Therapy (EMDR) has gained in popularity over the past 20 years and is quickly becoming an accepted method of treatment for people experiencing symptoms related to Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome (PTSD), or those who have experienced some form of trauma in their past. Rest assured, there is no shame in attempting to resolve something so impactful upon your quality of life.
The treatment is primarily accomplished via ‘talk therapy,’ with the added component of guided eye movement. This serves to ‘reprogram’ how the brain interprets and responds to some of life’s many challenges. This therapy can be quite intense for a person and one would be well-advised to allow time to decompress, post-session. The number of sessions required depends upon the depth of the issue being targeted and one’s receptiveness to the designed therapy.
For my part, while working with a Social Worker some time ago, I raised an issue I was having for discussion. For the longest time, I’d been getting irritated quite frequently—while in my bedroom, awake or asleep—and eventually realized that the sound of my door—any door, being opened or closed—was responsible for eliciting such a strong emotional response. At times, I would feel my entire body tense, becoming hyper-alert. Still others, I would instantaneously become disproportionately angry.
I’ve never doubted that one of the many consequences of serving a lengthy prison sentence is PTSD. Frankly, I am of the opinion that anyone, man or woman, is likely to experience symptoms of PTSD after serving only a year or two behind bars; in some cases, even less! Inexplicably, this issue with doors did not manifest itself fully until I was in the community. Moreover, I have since spoken with a number of CSC staff, who admit to similar psychological and physiological responses.
Though one may think that witnessing violence with some frequency, would be the impetus to symptoms of PTSD, there are numerous less obvious causes which can be equally devastating to the human psyche. Therefore, I would encourage anyone reading this to be open to the possibility of deeper, residual, and unchecked effects of incarceration. At the very least, talk to someone about this. They are likely to bring a more objective view to the situation. Doing nothing about these responses only negatively impacts a person’s quality of life, as well as increases the risk of future problems, which may very well lead back to life in prison. That choice rests with you!
In conclusion, let me add that this is the longest DG has gone without reoffending.
What’s made the difference? As he concludes, That (the) choice rests with you! That’s always, and ultimately, true for each of us. BUT, alongside that choice, when we can provide the people and the resources to welcome and support parolees in the context of a faith community, it truly changes the outcome of a person’s life.
With that in mind, please accept my heartfelt thanks. Thanks for investing in the “least of these,” as Jesus referred to the marginalized in our society. Your investment impacts a life, a community, and ultimately an entire nation!
Today we’re bringing you the remarkable first chapter of Astrid’s story, written six years into her reintegration process in Germany:
Getting released from Fraser Valley Institution for Women almost six years ago felt like kind of being reborn.
Being on the inside, I never felt I had been held captive in darkness and now was going to see and be blinded by the light, not at all. I had just simply gotten used to this artificial security. After 12 years, inside became a safe place. I had found solace in knowing the ropes.
This truth was revealed one morning, in my ninth year, when my superficial greeting of “How are you?” to another woman got a sarcastic, “Oh couldn’t be better, I am living my dream!” in response.
Sure, no one finding themselves inside the barbwire is living their dream, but to me, at that moment in time, it felt I was.
How could that be? I had found what I couldn’t in this big wide world outside of the fence; a place I felt secure, a place that did feel like home. Inside, away from the luring haste of life, I came to moments of being home in this temple, my body, in which God lives.
Meeting the parole board in September 2015, I had the chance of release—and with release, a ticket to freedom to a country I had not lived in almost 20 years, where I would not be supervised by any governmental body.
I was not anticipating this day with joy and excitement, but rather with fear. Fear of giving up my safe place. Life on the inside for the past 12 years had come easy to me, ever since the first serious advice from the Institutional Parole Officer: “You are not here to make friends!”
As a woman in her mid-thirties with a past of broken and troubled relationships, not knowing what a healthy relationship was or could feel like, I was only relieved not to have to engage in any of it anymore. This was the first big relief. Keeping to myself made flying under the radar in jail easy and not having to be with others left time for me to be with me.
Prior to committing murder, I led a highly functional lifestyle. I was drug and alcohol-free, but unaware of having been caught up in the addiction of codependency and busyness to avoid being human.
Being far away from God and myself led me to go astray not only spiritually, but also emotionally and mentally. I ended up spiralling in a vicious cycle of taking flight in suicidal thoughts that ended in committing murder. A truth so hurtful and so shameful.
WHY?! This one word, this one question was the only word left to mutter in my heart and my head. Why did I rebel against God? Did I want to prove to God that I was unlovable??
There was no reprieve, nor answers in psychology reports. The “whys” and “how coulds” just echoed inside my head, mingling with labels and confusion.
“Be still and know that I am God.” (Psalm 46:10)
That first hour inside a dark holding cell, stillness spoke love to me in a whisper so gentle and soothing that I felt held, not by walls I could not see, but by a divine strength. Years later I found out that is the meaning of the name given to me by my parents, Astrid, “divine strength.”
Twelve years later, having been held by God’s grace like a fledgling in a nest, it was too scary to face freedom in a country I had not lived in for twenty years and meet my family who I had hurt. But God made clear it was time to fly and fly towards home.
Facing my family was hard, and after so many years I felt so divided. The longing to belong was greater than ever, but with the pain I had inflicted, I felt our distance had grown and acceptance was unreachable. I knew and felt that they could not be there for me and that I had become a burden. This was nothing new to me. I had felt and known this before. Once again, I had to look out for myself, or so I believed.
As a baby I had been received by a midwife. Now at age 47 I was praying to God for a mid-sister. Grace stepped in a wondrous way into this role—unexpected! Just like God does it—creatively and with perfect timing.
I met Grace in the summer, three months before my parole board hearing. She stepped in as chaplain because our chaplain had gone on vacation. Grace led the worship service for us women inside and she approached me after conducting the service. She recognized my accent, as her husband is German. So, we connected and whenever she came in, we chatted about our experiences living in Germany. She shared her joy in raising three children, then teenagers, in two cultures, while I shared my concerns in returning to a culture I felt detached from and a family past I did not know how to engage in, yet nevertheless needed to mend.
Not only did God provide Grace for me to go home to my home country with (strange coincidence or God’s plan, but we both arrived back in Germany around the same time), but God revealed himself in the welcoming hugs and the gift of home. A dear friend from school and her husband picked me up from the airport and received me back into this society that I feared. They delivered me to the town of Celle, a town I had never lived in; a town of civil servants, home to three courts and one jail for men, but also a town where the Christian restorative ministry of the Schwarze Kreuz (“Black Cross”) had its office.
This ministry had vouched for me in the reintegration process. Making an exception, they offered me their little guest room, the size of the prison cell, helped me with bureaucratic processes, in meeting volunteers, in settling, and they gave me time to make independent steps towards finding my own place and work.
After six months, I found work in the field I had been trained in 25 years earlier. After nine months, I found an apartment in a timbered framed house from the 1600s in the middle of the dainty and ancient town center. Nine months after starting work as a furniture maker in a shop, I felt relieved in getting laid-off. My mental state had deteriorated under ongoing fear and anxiety, making concentrated working impossible. The employment counsellor was kind and patient, realizing I was putting too much pressure on myself with unrealistic expectations.
I was held back from applying for jobs, but he offered me a work program called a “1 Euro Job.” Literally, for each hour of work, I earned one Euro. Since I had not picked up on the negative stigma that this program held, I went for it like a relieved greenhorn and I got sent to the church just around the corner from where I lived. I sought out the sexton of that church and was put to work 20 hours a week in assisting the sexton in cleaning and maintenance work. For two years I was on social assistance working at a 1 Euro Job while growing in Christ and building relationships.
During the years inside, I had not missed much from this free world, but I had missed hearing live music in real life time and space. While hanging out in front of the radio listening to CBC Radio Two, I repeatedly prayed “God, please let me hear music again, real music in the moment of time where it is been created.”
This longing was fulfilled on the second day of my 1 Euro Job. It was early morning prior to the church opening. I was cleaning the empty sanctuary when the music director came in and rehearsed at the large organ hovering above the balcony. There I stood, in awe, with the vacuum cleaner in my hands and tears in my eyes, muttering, “thank you, God, thank you.”
Over the years, people have asked me, “What was the hardest after getting released?” It has been these moments of joyful surprises revealing God has heard me, sees me, and wants me to know he is with me at all times and in all ways. This realization is still hard for me to wrap my heart and soul around.
Another realization that hit me hard was the meaning of counting—being counted. In jail, the “headcount” held the highest meaning for staff and women, thus we all had to abide by its reoccurring importance. For everyone—the counter, as well as the one counted—this was a challenge to accept. I fought it in the strangest internal ways, repeatedly, until this one day when I learned of the saying, “count your blessings.” It has transformed the meaning of the ‘head-count’ for me to that of a blessing. It became a divine act. God himself was counting us worthy. I was counted worthy by God to belong to him.
On my first train ride—common transportation in Germany, both reliable and affordable—I had seated myself in an area for a group of four passengers. To my surprise, a four-year-old boy plopped himself in front of me, looked at me and counted proudly in German, eins, zwei, drei… when into the second digit his mother and older brother joined him and me. There I was, part of a family, joining the child in front of me in counting. He counted out loud to me vigorously, only to interrupt to let me know he could count till one hundred, preparing me for what was to come.
I gave him all my attention, feeling blessed by being counted to and not counted as a number. Those blessed moments made me tear up, and they were the moments I had to process and learn to receive as worthy of.
On the first Sunday after release, I went to the church nearest to my new home, the Schwarze Kreuz. It was Thanksgiving Sunday, and after the pastor released us with a blessing, he invited the congregation to a soup afterwards at a sister church within walking distance. I did ask one woman outside where the lunch would take place, but she was unsure and could only give me the rough direction.
I was not just hungry for food; I was hungrier to find a parish. So, I cycled in the direction the woman had pointed out, trusting I would and could find what I was looking for. Churches in Germany usually come with belfries, so I kept looking for one while cycling. Becoming unsure, I gave up looking and turned away from that direction to find my way back home.
As I cycled by an old, run-down building, I saw people gathered through the windows. Could this be a congregation? I went to the entrance and walked shyly into a slimming crowd. Asking at the counter if I could still drink tea, I was invited to help myself. At an empty table I sat down, and a woman greeted me with warmth and asked if she could sit with me. We chatted and she confirmed the church worshipped together every Sunday at eleven.
This became my church and today this congregation is my spiritual base. Every summer my church goes on a retreat, and at the second retreat I was able to attend, I got baptized.
I am excited to present a book by a long-time friend Better Life staff have had the pleasure to know.
Yves Réal Côté has written his experience of being a ‘lifer’ in Metamorphosis: My path to transformation in collaboration with Criminologist and friend Alana Abramson.
Yves’s story is one of authenticity—the ongoing struggle to experience healthy reintegration, redemption, forgiveness, grace and love.
You can find an overview of his story here:
If you or your loved one has experienced the trauma of crime, or incarceration, or if you support offenders and parolees, I know you will be inspired by Yves’s story!
We are excited to turn the page in 2021 and thankful for your support of the work we will be doing this new year! Support like yours allows our team the bandwidth to work at full capacity in this vital work of reintegration. We could not do this without people like you.
Despite the restrictions of COVID, Better Life made significant steps ahead in 2020. We continued to facilitate and support men and women from Federal Corrections Institutes (9 in our Pacific Region), we developed our relationship with Corrections Canada (including Pacific Region Institutions, Parole Offices and Officers, and Halfway Homes), and significantly increased the network of churches that we are able to integrate offenders into.
One of the areas we are most excited about for 2021 is the development of a training team. We are grateful for a number of individuals who bring wisdom and experience to developing Better Life training for the churches and volunteers we work with. This training will be a valuable resource as we continue to reduce recidivism and help parolees to begin to experience a new story and to live a better life.
J.’s message (below) is a fantastic reminder of just how powerful that work can be!
Hello,
My name is J., I was housed at William Head Institution for over two years and can say without a doubt that a big difference from any other institution is the volunteers. All of them, from all the groups to the ones who come in for chapel.
Many of the chapel volunteers have been there for years and have probably seen a few chaplains come and go. This gives us not only a continuation of support building to our release but a great help after it. I’ve been blessed for all the connections that I’ve been able to keep going after I got out, even despite covid.
Many Christians who come out of prison are either fooling themselves or don’t know where to turn to in a new city. The volunteers can be a great help to both as they continue to minister a safe circle of support and a good dose of a reality check.
It was one of the volunteers who connected me to the church I go to now who I’ve really connected with their pastor who did time in prison some 25+ years ago! The Lord has blessed me so much inside and outside of prison. I’ve grown in my walk with Jesus and others. I’ve helped with playing music in the chapel and now at church.
“I was in prison, and you came unto me.” (Matt. 25:36)
In Christ’s love and prayer,
J.
Thanks again for your support of the vital work of Better Life.
JT’s story shows why the work of Reintegration is so valuable and transformative!
Click below to watch him tell his powerful story in his own words at his home church:
Note: captions are available via the [cc] symbol on the bottom right!
If you have any questions about volunteering and how to get involved in providing support for an individual like JT’s reintegration, please don’t hesitate to contact our General Director, Adam Wiggins, at adam.betterlife@gmail.com.
(This is Part 3 of a series on Faith Community Reintegration. Read Part 1 and Part 2.)
Better Life has a clear and intentional pathway for supporting an offender in their desire to experience healthy reintegration.
While, sadly, there are no silver bullets when it comes to reintegration, there are game-changers.
Relationship is vital.
Many men and women coming out of Corrections institutions—often because of the culture they experience within the prisons—are asking the question, “who can I trust?”
The answer is found in communities of people whose faith leads them to be:
welcoming to marginalized people
relationally authentic (i.e., “my faith leads me to realize I don’t have my life together”)
seeking to live their lives by a consistent expression of values inspired by their faith
In so many respects, this is why faith community reintegration can have such a far-reaching impact on lowering recidivism.
Better Life is committed to helping individuals from all faiths to connect with their faith communities, as per the terms of our contract with Corrections Canada as a Faith Community Reintegration Project (FCRP). While our organization is comprised of individuals who are followers of Jesus, we engage with offenders of all faith backgrounds and commit to exemplifying the person of Jesus through everything we do, including supporting offenders to connect with their chosen faith communities.
We are constantly reaching out to faith community leaders to communicate what we do and the difference that a faith community can have in helping a parolee experience a healthy reintegration.
Better Life’s commitment is to be working with faith communities who believe their faith leads them to invest in the support and care of men and women on parole.
To be clear, Better Life’s practice is not to ask faith communities to adopt a “Better Life reintegration program.”
Instead, we engage with faith communities around the essential elements of healthy reintegration they may already have and could further develop within their community and offer our support as a resource centre.
Some of these essential elements include:
Guardrails
Another name for this is Boundaries.
What do a faith community’s members need to know to provide healthy relationships and safety—both for individuals on parole, but also for the rest of their community?
Healthy guardrails protect everyone and ensure the best outcomes possible.
(Next month we’ll look at what specific Guardrails are needed.)
Growth
In the context of a Christian faith community or church we might call this discipleship.
What pathway can the community lead an offender on to help them continue to grow and develop and to experience a healthy integration into the community?
This will look somewhat different for different faith communities, but the common and valuable essentials are expressed through relationship:
Who are the committed individuals who are going to support the parolee?
What are they going to engage around that will continue to help the parolee to grow and develop?
Do they understand the unique challenges a parolee faces?
Things that many of us take for granted can be a significant challenges for a parolee.
These include housing (following the halfway house), employment, groceries, counselling for trauma, and in some cases, addiction.
In the November newsletter, we will provide one possible outline for a small group structure that helps individuals grow in their faith and development.
Essentially, Better Life values faith communities as relational resource centres. Within the faith community is every resource a parolee needs to continue to move forward. And the faith community makes an invaluable contribution to a parolee’s experience and in the lowering of the recidivism rate.
Faith Community reintegration is a game-changer and a life-changer for everyone involved.
This is not limited to the offenders. Involved members of the faith communities often remark that they receive more through supporting offenders than they give, while the community at large benefits as incidents of crime and violence are reduced.
Better Life is developing a “toolbox” that it will offer for training purposes at faith communities, and also plans to make available on our website in the coming months.
If you have questions about volunteering and how to involve your faith community in providing support for an individual’s reintegration, please don’t hesitate to contact our General Director, Adam Wiggins, at adam.betterlife@gmail.com.
This month’s story is a recent one from an individual who has experienced the support of one of Better Life’s chaplains.
His experience reveals what the ‘pathway’ can look like from becoming eligible for parole to reintegration. Hopefully it provides a glimpse into the difference volunteers can make supporting an offender as they are reintegrated back into community!
In his own words:
I knew I wanted to succeed…to have a better life…for I’d spoken to God about this many times. I also knew that it was up to me to take the necessary next step, so I went to chat with the prison’s Pastor about expanding my community support.
Truth be told…God was watching/listening. He always is! No sooner had the idea of contacting Better Life been suggested as a possibility when Glenn, Assistant Chaplain with Better Life, knocked on the door. We engaged in a brief conversation, exchanging contact information, with a promise to connect subsequent to my release. With a week of my arrival at the halfway house and true to his word, Glenn was here to visit me! I must point out; such promises are not always honoured. As with any new acquaintance, I am slow to ‘warm’ to them, particularly when the concept of disclosure is required. However, feeling no pressure to do so, Glenn has proved to be an attentive listener. Moreover, he has provided very timely and sage advice. By and large though, Better Life has secured as a “sounding board” as I continue to navigate life amongst society once again.
We are months into my release, as well as a budding friendship. I have been truly blessed by virtue of the number of visits from Better Life. They (Glenn) have become an integral component of my effort to successfully reintegrate. I am eternally grateful.
Better Life Integration & Support Society 
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