I have to admit that I may have chuckled inappropriately during the first few pages of Dr. Hillary L. McBride's latest book "Holy Hurt: Understanding Spiritual Trauma and the Process of Healing."

This isn't an insult in any way. It's just that by now the assertion that spiritual trauma is real feels rather fundamental in a Mr. Obvious way. In fact, these days I can't help but think that it's more difficult to find people who haven't experienced some level of spiritual trauma within organized religious settings.

I realize, of course, that this is an exaggeration. It simply doesn't feel like an exaggeration. Dr. McBride starts from this basic reality - that the institutions and communities that should be the most holy in our lives end up hurting us. On a certain level, this feels like an almost "duh" statement, not just because of the prevalence of spiritual trauma but because I can't help but think it's the people in our lives with whom we are most intimate that can and often do hurt us the most. In most cases, I think, it's a different kind of hurt that doesn't necessarily damage the relationship. After all, who can say they've ever been in a relationship without experiencing some kind of hurt? It happens. Yet, in most of these cases I'd assume there's a greater common good (NOTE: Don't really ask me about this - I suck at relationships and was horrible in marriage).

This type of hurt is different. Dr. McBride seems to get that and spends a good amount of "Holy Hurt" affirming that our spiritual trauma is real and has a devastating impact. Dr. McBride also reassures us, emotionally and intellectually, that we can establish a new identity, even within our faith, and we can certainly heal.

Having read Dr. McBride's work before, I was quite prepared for her wonderful ability to write both academically and compassionately and to weave together a tapestry of clinical research, interviews, first-person stories, trauma literature, and chapter-ending actionable practices. Dr. McBride calls us into acknowledging our spiritual trauma and yet also refuses to let us off the hook - she calls us into addressing our need for both individual and communal healing.

Dr. McBride's writing feels like that of someone who has both studied spiritual trauma and yet held herself accountable for her own healing journey. While she's not necessarily overly revealing of her own journey, she gives us glimpses into her journey yet always writes in a way that affirms hope and healing and the ability to change ourselves and our faith communities.

In her support of the book, noted writer/podcaster Jen Hatmaker gives mention to one of the better quotes in "Holy Hurt" - "We stoke in people an inner critic and tell them it's the voice of God."

For anyone, I have to believe, who has experienced spiritual trauma this statement and many others will resonate deeply and will feel both challenging and facilitating of one's healing.

For many years, I shied away from deepening faith community commitments and convinced myself that I could make it on my own. Yet, there was something deep within me that longed for a deeper community healing and Dr. McBride sheds light on that craving. She's realistic in her approach - this is hard work that will demand transparency, vulnerability, and a willingness to take risks, however, she's so consistently affirming of this worthy journey that by the end of "Holy Hurt" you'll long to better understand your own spiritual trauma and crave deeper healing.

For those ready to do the hard work of healing from spiritual trauma, Dr. McBride's "Holy Hurt" is a wonderful place to begin.