As you may know, the support that the Better Life Team offers to offenders is managed and funded through something called an “FCRP (Faith Community Reintegration Project) contract.”
Over a year ago that contract term ended and “came up for bid”—in other words, we (and any other interested parties) needed to put in proposals for the contract going forward.
Better Life duly submitted a proposal . . . and waited, and waited, and waited! In fact, we had to submit a second proposal at the end of 2021 because of ambiguous language in the original Request for Proposal (RFP) that invalidated the process. Thankfully, we were able to keep operating without interruption under temporary contract extensions for the duration.
Well…it’s a pleasure for me to announce that Better Life was again awarded the FCRP contract!
The current government contract now extends into the Spring of 2024. This means that we can continue to invest in providing the invaluable support required for healthy reintegration.
We always say at Better Life that our commitment is to support the men and women who are in, and are coming out of, Corrections. However, as a Correctional Service Canada contractor, we have access to the prisons and halfway homes beyond that granted to a purely volunteer-based organization. This has truly been a gift through the pandemic, in particular.
The value of what Better Life does was reinforced to me recently as a brand new parolee, CI, was welcomed into his halfway house in Surrey.
CI’s Better Life Team support chaplain, Glenn, and I visited to be introduced to the new manager of CI’s halfway house and then we drove CI to a nearby church that Better Life has begun a partnership with (we provide the church and its mentors and volunteers with training and support.)
I listened as CI told the pastor his story. A story that includes being released from prison previously, but with no community support. CI had breached the conditions of his parole and was sent back into prison, where he met Glenn—and through Glenn, recognized Jesus, and surrendered his life to Him.
As CI met with the pastor, he talked about the strength that his faith now gives him—but also, how he would not be connecting with this church on his own, or at the very least how much more difficult and intimidating it would be.
Instead, there we all were! CI, the pastor of the church, Glenn and myself talking about the intentional steps that CI can take to experience the strength and support of a church to help him continue to grow in his relationship with Jesus and to experience a very different direction for his life.
I realize that many of you that we connect with through this Better Life Blog are members of faith communities that provide support for parolees. We’re grateful for you!
If your faith community doesn’t yet have access to Better Life’s online training, which we are continuing to develop, please email me at adam.betterlife@gmail.com and I would be happy to provide it for you.
I wish I could have brought each of you to the Christmas celebration hosted by one of our Chilliwack-area team members and his wife.
What was so impactful was that, after an incredible meal, we had a time of sharing. Each of the men who had received Better Life support spoke about how it has been a life-changer for them.
In fact, men were phoning into the event because they wanted to share their stories and express their gratitude for the support they had received.
As I prepare online reintegration training for our faith communities, I recognize how complex the work of reintegration can be. There are many important details that need to be kept in mind.
However, at times, I’m overwhelmed by the simplicity. As I listened to men share stories about how their lives had been impacted through the support of a Better Life team member, what was mentioned most of all was the consistency: “You were there for me.” “You kept showing up.” “Your actions convinced me that you cared and that, because you cared, I mattered.”
As the larger Better Life community, let me say thank you.
I am deeply grateful for your support and for how investing in ‘the least of these’ can make an invaluable difference in supporting offenders to become valued and contributing members of our society.
Thank you for joining us in our mission of “Eradicating Recidivism, one life at a time.”
Merry Christmas and all God’s best to you and yours for 2022!
Adam Wiggins
General Director
Message from the Better Life Integration & Support Society Board of Directors
This has been a challenging year for our Society, yet we have continued to see wonderful results as men and women are being integrated back into our communities successfully.
This success has been due to the staff and volunteers that God has led into this ministry. Everyone has been used mightily in this work.
We would especially like to thank Adam Wiggins, our General Director, who has been inspired in his work with the Society. He took over at a critical time and has led us through some difficult and frustrating times. In spite of these challenges, Better Life has continued to grow in size and impact.
One specific challenge has been the delays in our bid to reacquire our current contract with the Correctional Service of Canada. This contract is our greatest source of funding and also gives us access to the bulk of our contact with inmates in federal custody.
The delay in our bid being assessed has hampered our ability to develop the necessary initiatives to be better equipped and to stabilize our resources into the future. Our existing contract was extended time and time again with no increase in our revenue and with no indication of the final decision. We recently were notified that no one was awarded the contract and that another submission will be required.
Please pray that the new bid, currently being prepared, will be successful and that our resources will continue to grow.
To all our staff and volunteers, may God bless you and your families. Thank you for your dedication and efforts in assisting the marginalized groups we support.
Merry Christmas and may you have a Happy and Rewarding New Year.
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!
It is such a tragic story. This young woman had family and community who cared for her, yet they were unaware of her release.
This post isn’t to criticize Correctional Services Canada or any particular Correctional Institution. However, as I read this tragic story, it emphasized for me the incredible contribution community chaplaincy makes.
When an offender is released, they can be walked to the door of the prison, given their belongings and a bus pass, and simply sent on their way, if they have no one waiting to escort them.
Contrast this with the reality that the period following an offender’s release is the most critical in terms of re-offending (rate of recidivism).
Offenders often express that the most stressful time they face isn’t necessarily inside a Corrections Institution. As bleak as it can be, there often develops a rhythm and a pattern to institutionalized life.
What’s most stressful turns out to be the initial weeks and months after release.
Federal Corrections, in particular, involves longer sentence terms, and the world an offender walks out into can seem like a whole new one. Offenders not only have to navigate the complexity of navigating their own finances, dramatically different technology, housing, employment, and relationships, but rejection waits for them at every turn.
Thanks to Google and a deeply connected world of near-instant access to information, the details of their offence are readily available to potential employers, landlords, banks, and other connections.
Rejection, fear, feelings of inadequacy and vulnerability, and this stream of logistical challenges—and potential reconnections with toxic relationships or environments—often push parolees right back into institutionalization.
But what if we change that scenario?
What if, on the day of release, instead of being shown the door, handed a bus ticket or being shipped to a halfway home, there’s a familiar face waiting for them at that door? And that someone—who already has been extending support during incarceration—drives them to their destination? And they engage in the continued conversation about what the parolee can expect, and where their people and places of support will be?
What if the parolee is introduced to a community of faith that they identify with from (before) day one? And they have mentors and places of connection that can provide support as they navigate “a whole new world” full of new or dramatically altered technology, and the need for income and housing, positive relationships, and an environment that supports healthy spiritual practices?
In fact, when we can provide the above ingredients in an individual’s reintegration it is, with no exaggeration, a game-changer—and a life-changer—for that individual.
The most commonly shared statistic is that when parolees are reintegrated into their faith communities upon release, there is an over 70% drop in re-offending.
That’s staggering, isn’t it? That’s good for the individual, the community, the mentors and volunteers (because we’re always learning a lot!), and frankly, the nation!
I am so grateful for all of our churches, faith communities, Better Life community chaplains and volunteers, whose sacrificial investment makes such a life-changing difference for the men and women we serve. Thank you.
If you’d like to find out more about how you can volunteer, or how your church can be involved in the work of reintegration, I would love to hear from you!
In FCRP Part 2, we mentioned that there can be other reintegration pathways better suited to the particular needs of an individual, and when anotherorganization can provide a better match of resources and support, we’re happy to make referrals. For example:
Circles of Support and Accountability (CoSA)
CoSA is a unique and innovative community justice initiative for post release support and accountability of offenders in and by the community. CoSA VFV also provides public education programming on how to create safe communities for all.
We care for all those that have been impacted by crime. We regularly visit our community’s correctional institutions, providing faith-based programs. We also engage our Catholic schools and parishes, promoting awareness about social teaching and restorative justice.
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.
Better Life Integration & Support Society 
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