The Wounded Leader and the Waters of Healing
In C.S. Lewis’ Perelandra[1], when Ransom arrives in the distant Edenic world of Perelandra, he is not healthy. Instead, he arrives wounded, disoriented, and immersed in tumult. His “splashdown” into the vast, living ocean of that unfallen world is chaotic: waves toss him, exhaustion overwhelms him, and he must struggle toward the safety of a floating island. Only after that desperate swim does the healing process begin. Not through magic, but through presence, environment, and willing surrender to a world not shaped by his own striving.
Lewis shows that the world of Perelandra itself is restorative. Its fruit nourishes, its waters cleanse, and its very air renews. Yet even there, Ransom’s healing is not immediate or complete. The “bubble-tree” shower that drenches him acts as a baptismal cleansing from the corruption of Thulcandra (Earth). The mountain pool that receives him after his brutal struggle with the Un-man offers rest and renewal. And yet his heel still bleeds. The wound remains as a sign of his encounter with evil, a reminder that healing is both real and incomplete on this side of glory.
Ransom’s experience is a parable of leadership in our world today. Leaders do not arrive whole. They arrive wounded by life, shaped by trauma, exhausted from storms they did not choose, splashing down into ministries and organizations hoping for stability and fruitfulness. But true healing requires more than competence or grit. It demands entering a different kind of environment, receiving cleansing and nourishment, confronting wounds honestly, and accepting that some wounds become teachers rather than vanishing marks.
This is precisely the world Nicholas and Sheila Wise Rowe describe in Healing Leadership Trauma.[2] Their work provides a critical lens for understanding why so many leaders today are not flourishing. They argue that leaders carry unresolved wounds that may include early life injuries, ministry harm, racialized experiences, gendered expectations, and chronic pressures that shape their inner world far more than they know.[3] These wounds produce patterns of self-reliance, self-protection, and relational isolation that are often mistaken for strength but are really just survival strategies.
This insight aligns deeply with my ongoing research. Many in my context are languishing, not because they lack talent or desire, but because they are convinced by a cultural map that has two primary navigational forces: social isolation and self-reliance. These forces are not neutral; they spring from the cultural myth of rugged individualism, akin to the myth of self-reliance that the Rowes reference.[4] These myths seduce many into believing that vulnerability is dangerous, wounds aren’t real, and therefore healing should happen privately, if at all. The Rowes show that such patterns are not merely cultural habits but often expressions of deeper, unaddressed wounds.
This dynamic is captured with striking clarity by Stanley Hauerwas, who observes,
We are afraid of showing weakness. We are afraid of not succeeding. Deep inside we are afraid of not being recognized. So we pretend we are the best. We hide behind power. We hide behind all sorts of things.[5]
Hauerwas gives theological language to the psychological realities the Rowes uncover. Our fear of being unseen, unsuccessful, or unworthy drives us to hide behind competence, influence, control, or ministry performance. Leaders do not merely drift into rugged individualism; we grasp it as a shield. We cling to power (or the appearance of it) because the alternative feels unbearably vulnerable. The Rowes reveal that beneath these defenses often lie wounds we have not named, let alone healed.
The Rowes seem to have embedded a five-part movement throughout their book, which serves as a pastoral and psychological map for stepping out from behind these shields. This process includes invitation, attachment, remembrance, healing, and reconnection. Leaders must be invited to name the truth of their wounds, revisit the attachment patterns that shaped them, remember painful stories without shame, pursue healing intentionally, and reconnect with God and others from a place of growing wholeness. This trajectory mirrors Ransom’s time on Perelandra: he arrives wounded, surrenders to an environment that can heal him, and emerges changed—but with a wound that reminds him of both his limits and his calling, not unlike Jacob walking with a limp after wrestling with God and receiving a blessing.
Considering the Healing Leadership Trauma alongside Simon Walker’s The Undefended Leader[6] and Andy Crouch’s Strong and Weak[7] clarifies why healing is so essential for leadership. Walker explains how wounded leaders behave. His distinction between the frontstage (public presence) and backstage (inner life) shows that many leaders labor to maintain a defended persona because they fear exposure. This defended stance is celebrated in rugged individualist culture but suffocates relational and spiritual life.
Crouch argues that flourishing emerges only when authority and vulnerability are both high.[8] Authority represents our capacity to act; vulnerability represents our exposure to meaningful risk. Rugged individualism champions authority without vulnerability; strength without weakness. But Crouch shows that such a posture results not in flourishing but in isolation, burnout, and exploitation.[9] Vulnerability is not the opposite of strength; it is the necessary companion to it.
Like Ransom on Perelandra, leaders need more than instruction; they need an environment where healing is truly possible. They need cleansing waters, nourishing fruit, and safe spaces where long-held wounds can finally be named. God has given these healing waters in the form of the local church. And, like Ransom’s bleeding heel, some wounds will remain, not as defects or disqualifications, but as reminders of God’s sustaining grace and the strength He provides.
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[1] C.S. Lewis, Perelandra, (New York: Macmillan Publishing Company, 1965).
[2] Nicholas Rowe and Sheila Wise Rowe, Healing Leadership Trauma: Finding Emotional Health and Helping Others Flourish, (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press, 2024).
[3] Ibid., 8.
[4] Ibid., 66.
[5] Stanley Hauerwas and Jean Vanier, Living Gently in a Violent World: The Prophetic Witness of Weakness, (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press, 2008), 64.
[6] Simon Walker, The Undefended Leader, (Carlisle, UK: Piquant Editions, 2010).
[7] Andy Crouch, Strong and Weak: Embracing a Life of Love, Risk and True Flourishing, (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press, 2016).
[8] Ibid., 11.
[9] Ibid., 41–47.
About the Author
Chad Warren
A husband, father, pastor, teacher, and student seeking to help others flourish.6 responses to “The Wounded Leader and the Waters of Healing”
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Chad,
Love your statement that “Leaders do not arrive whole.” I enjoyed your comparison to C. S. Lewis book. I started that trilogy once, a long time ago. Now I feel like I should actually read it. You mention a five-part movement in the book, invitation, attachment, remembrance, healing, and reconnection. Which one do you feel you struggle to step into the most?
Jeff, Thanks for the question. For me, the hardest step is actually the first one, invitation. Naming my own wounds and allowing myself to be drawn into the healing process doesn’t come naturally. I tend to default to self-reliance and “pressing on,” which can keep me from slowing down long enough to let God and others see what needs attention. Stepping into an invitation requires admitting I need help, which is exactly what rugged individualism trains us to resist. But I’m learning that healing begins when I stop trying to manage myself and allow God and trusted people to draw me in.
Hi Dr. Warren. Great syntopical work.
You have indicated that these self-reliant, self-protecting and isolationist tendencies are defence mechanisms. As my friend Brian says, “the shields are up.”
But since the process Rowe and Wise Rowe have laid out requires leaders, as you’ve shared, “to be invited to name the truth of their wounds,” what are your thoughts on keeping a leader from avoidance of what really needs understanding, self-compassion and healing?
Chad,
I am going to miss reading your posts. Maybe you can just continue to write them…
You write, “they need an environment where healing is truly possible.” If the leader in this case is a pastor who is leading a church, is it possible for the church to be the place of healing? Or would it be good for leaders to find a group outside of those whom they are shepherding?
Chad! I love your analysis as you break down these readings. I can ask questions at a few junctures but when you spoke of vulnerability, we know from the pastoral perspective how many are burned in this area, and choose to stay isolated. What is the best way a leader can be vulnerable with those whom they have charge over?
I resonate with this your thought, “But true healing requires more than competence or grit. It demands entering a different kind of environment, receiving cleansing and nourishment, confronting wounds honestly, and accepting that some wounds become teachers rather than vanishing marks.”
Thank you for sharing. I have a general question:
How does the book connect spiritual formation with healing from leadership trauma? What role does faith play in this process?