Creating a Sacred Counseling Space
- Ashley Brooks, PhD, LPC-S
- May 29
- 11 min read
Updated: Jul 19
Post #5: Soul Change Series
Where two or three gather in my name, there am I with them. — Matthew 18:20
True presence is not about technique—it’s about offering a place where people can be seen, known, and not rushed. — Soul Change
In the therapy world, much attention is given to the physical space, ensuring that offices are private, clean, calming, and professional. This matters deeply. Lighting, soundproofing, comfortable furniture, and a sense of warmth all serve to put clients at ease. But in the Soul Change Model, we take the idea of safe space even further: we aim to create sacred space.
A sacred counseling space is not just about what’s visible to the eye. It’s about what’s felt in the soul. It’s not defined by candles or soft music, though sensory elements can enhance comfort. Rather, it’s defined by what unfolds when a client walks into the room burdened, ashamed, or guarded, and, bit by bit, begins to experience something surprising:
This is a safe place. I can be real here. I might even meet God here.
The sacred space invites clients to come not just with symptoms, but with stories. It whispers to the weary heart, You don’t have to hide here. All of you is welcome. And when clients sense that they are not merely “cases” to be analyzed, but souls to be seen—they begin to open.
Sacred space is not manufactured. It’s cultivated. It is prayed into existence. It’s held by the unseen work of the Holy Spirit and by the tangible, attuned presence of the therapist who holds their role with reverence.
More Than a Room
A sacred counseling space is never about décor alone. It’s about posture—the posture of the therapist’s heart, the spiritual climate of the room, and the relational stance that invites the client’s full humanity to be present.
Before a word is spoken, something sacred can be felt. Not because the walls are painted the perfect hue, but because the therapist has prepared their own inner sanctuary. They’ve taken time to ground themselves in God’s presence, to let go of control, to listen more than speak. They’ve entered into the session not just as a professional, but as a co-partner with the Spirit.
Clients are not coming to be “fixed.” They are coming to be witnessed. They are often carrying stories they’ve never told aloud, some fragmented, some buried under decades of survival, and some burning with spiritual ache. And when a Christian therapist sees those stories as holy ground, everything changes.
The pace slows.
The silence deepens.
The client is no longer a diagnosis—they are a soul.
Clients begin to sense that their story matters, not just to the therapist, but to God. In that kind of space, a shift occurs. Clients move from performance to presence. From defense to dignity. From hiding to healing.
They are no longer defined by symptoms or scores. They are no longer reduced to a treatment plan. They are seen—as image-bearers, as beloved, as souls.
Diane Langberg (2015) writes in Suffering and the Heart of God that counselors work in sacred spaces with image-bearers who are suffering and who never leave the gaze of God. This reminder recalibrates everything. Therapy becomes more than a method—it becomes a ministry of presence, a sacred encounter.
In this kind of room, the real work begins: not simply adjusting behaviors or reframing thoughts, but tending to the soul—gently, prayerfully, with holy reverence.
Holding Space Without Hurry
In a world driven by metrics, outcomes, and quick solutions, therapeutic space must become radically countercultural. Clients often arrive burdened not only by their inner wounds but by an invisible pressure to get better fast. Therapists, too, can feel the weight of timelines—insurance requirements, productivity quotas, or even internal expectations to “make progress.”
But soul work doesn’t conform to clocks or checklists. It resists rush. It unfolds slowly, in spirals rather than straight lines, often looping through grief, longing, doubt, and grace again and again. True healing rarely happens on demand. It takes trust. It takes presence. And above all, it takes time.
The Soul Change Model invites therapists to resist the urge to push for insight, clarity, or closure. Instead, we are encouraged to slow the pace of healing, not to stall progress, but to deepen it. We’re not chasing short-term results. We’re creating room for long-term redemption.
This kind of healing goes beyond surface-level symptom relief. It reaches toward the foundations: identity, attachment, belief, and connection with God. It is not merely corrective but transformational. It is not about symptom management—it is about soul restoration.
Slowing down means learning how to:
Sit with long silences without rushing to fill them
Wait without forcing insight, trusting that the client’s soul and the Holy Spirit are already at work
Remain in emotional spaces, even when they are uncomfortable, trusting that depth comes through dwelling
Let the Spirit set the rhythm, rather than the therapist’s agenda or the client’s anxiety
This is where healing breathes.
Psychologist and integrationist Siang-Yang Tan (2011) calls this a “Spirit-led, presence-centered approach”—one that flows from the therapist’s attunement to the moment and openness to the Spirit’s prompting. Rather than a model of control or expertise, this is a posture of invitation.
We do not drag clients toward a breakthrough. We sit with them until they’re ready to take the next step. We listen more than we lead. We allow the pace of therapy to be shaped not by pressure, but by presence.
This is slow work. And holy work.
Sometimes, the most healing moment of a session is not a brilliant interpretation or technique—it’s the unhurried presence of someone who doesn’t flinch at pain. Someone who stays. Someone who trusts that the Spirit is working in ways we cannot yet see.
In sacred, slow spaces, the soul begins to believe:I don’t have to perform here. I can simply be.And being—just as I am—is enough for healing to begin.
The Therapist’s Presence as a Healing Instrument
Research confirms what many therapists already intuitively know: the quality of the therapeutic relationship is one of the most powerful predictors of client outcomes (Norcross & Lambert, 2018). Safety, empathy, attunement, and authenticity all contribute to change—often more than any technique or theory. But in Christian therapy, this relationship carries an added depth. It becomes not only therapeutic—it becomes sacred.
In the Soul Change Model, the therapist is not merely an attuned witness. They are a co-laborer with the Holy Spirit, entering each session with humility, expectation, and reverence. The healing that unfolds is not ultimately ours to generate—it is the work of God’s presence moving within a space intentionally held.
As clients sit across from someone who listens without judgment, attunes without control, and speaks truth without fear, something begins to shift inside them. A deeper possibility arises:
"Maybe I’m not alone."
"Maybe I’m not too much."
"Maybe healing is possible for me."
In a world that often reinforces shame and isolation, the therapeutic relationship becomes a living contradiction—a place where presence is not earned, and dignity is not conditional. This is where theology and psychology meet: in the embodied ministry of presence.
Larry Crabb (1997) said it well:
When the gospel enables us to believe that something terrific is alive in another and that something terrifcally alive in us could actually touch it, good things happen. We accept people for who they are, we grive over every failure to live out their true identity, and no matter what happens, we continue to believe in what they could become without demanding that it happen on our timetable or for our sakes, or that we paly a big part in making it happen (p 53).
Clients don’t heal because we explain things well. They heal because we embody something different—something real, something grounded in grace.
This is what sacred space does. It doesn’t just hold stories, it begins to rewrite them. Not with forced optimism or spiritual clichés, but with the steady, Spirit-filled presence of someone who stays.
Your presence as a Christian therapist becomes a kind of sanctuary. Not because you are the healer—but because you’ve made room for the Healer to move through you.
You bear witness without trying to fix.
You offer truth anchored in grace.
You reflect the love of Christ without condition.
In doing so, you model what many clients have never experienced: a relationship that tells the truth without turning away. A relationship that says, You are not alone here. Your pain is seen. And your story matters—not just to me, but to God.
When that kind of presence fills the room, therapy becomes more than a clinical intervention. It becomes a holy encounter—one that echoes long after the session ends.
Preparing the Space—Internally and Externally
Creating a sacred counseling space goes beyond aesthetics. While many therapists are taught to focus on lighting, layout, and comfort—and rightly so—true sacred space begins within.
In the Soul Change Model, preparation is both external and internal. A well-appointed room matters. But a well-attuned soul matters more. Before clients ever step through the door, the Christian therapist asks not only, Is the space clean, calming, and professional? but also, Is my heart prepared to hold this sacred hour?
This means regularly examining:
Am I grounded in God’s presence before this session?Not as a ritual, but as a relational orientation. Have I centered myself in the awareness that I am not doing this work alone?
Am I fully present, or am I distracted by outcomes, schedules, or anxiety?Soul work cannot be rushed. Am I giving this client my full presence, or is my mind elsewhere?
Am I making space for the Spirit to guide—not just my training or intuition?Am I open to what God wants to do in this hour, even if it disrupts my plan or pace?
Soul Change therapists are trained to prepare their hearts before they prepare their notes. This internal work is not optional—it is foundational. Without it, even the most technically sound session risks becoming hollow.
For some, this heart-preparation involves prayer before each session, asking God to guide the conversation and open their spiritual ears. Others create rhythm by lighting a candle, taking a grounding breath, or whispering a simple surrender:
"God, this is Your hour. Lead me."
These small acts become sacramental gestures—physical reminders that the room is not theirs to control, but a sanctuary to steward.
Externally, the space should convey a sense of welcome, warmth, and dignity. A comfortable chair, soft lighting, and thoughtful touches say to the client: You are seen. You are valued. Even details like clean tissues, natural light, or a cup of water can speak volumes about the respect and hospitality being offered.
But it is the internal atmosphere—the spiritual posture of the therapist—that the client will sense most profoundly. A therapist who is hurried, self-conscious, or overly fixated on performance may unintentionally invite guardedness. But a therapist who is anchored in God’s presence, open to the Spirit, and at rest within themselves creates a space where trust can take root.
In the end, sacred space is not built with furniture—it is built with presence. It is not sustained by ambiance—it is sustained by a therapist who shows up as both a professional and a person of faith, whose inner life makes room for the Spirit to move.
Safety that Opens the Door to the Sacred
In trauma-informed work, safety is always the first priority. But in spiritually-integrated therapy, safety is not just foundational—it’s transformational.
Too often, safety is misunderstood as the opposite of depth. Some worry that being too gentle means being ineffective. But in the Soul Change Model, we understand safety as the very doorway to the sacred.
Without safety, the soul stays hidden.
With safety, the soul begins to emerge.
When clients begin to sense that they are safe—not just emotionally, but spiritually-a deeper kind of vulnerability becomes possible. Walls that once felt necessary start to loosen. Clients may find themselves naming past wounds they’ve never spoken aloud, admitting longings buried under layers of shame, or questioning beliefs they’ve held in secret.
In that space of safety, the Spirit moves. Not always with fanfare, but often in quiet, holy ways—through a tear, a silence, a breath of relief. It is in these moments that sacred counseling space becomes more than clinical—it becomes an encounter.
That’s the heart of it. Healing does not begin with insight alone. It begins with being received.
In sacred space, the therapist offers more than clinical skill—they offer presence without judgment, truth without pressure, and welcome without condition. This kind of presence says to the client:
"You can tell the truth here. You can show up with your full story—and I will not look away. Neither will God."
This kind of safety is not soft—it’s strong. It’s not passive—it’s protective. It is the kind of safety that allows the soul to exhale, to explore, and eventually, to surrender. And that surrender is not forced or coerced—it is invited. As safety deepens, control relaxes. Defenses fall away. The soul dares to say:
"Maybe I don’t have to hold this all alone anymore."
"Maybe I can let God in."
That is the essence of sacred counseling space:
Safety that leads to surrender
Presence that makes room for healing
Love that invites transformation
In this kind of space, clients are not rushed toward breakthrough—they are welcomed into a sense of belonging. And through that belonging, they begin to believe that healing is not only possible, but already beginning.
Sacred Doesn’t Mean Serious—It Means Attuned
One common misconception is that “sacred space” must be somber, serious, or emotionally intense. While sacred moments can certainly include tears, reverence, or silence, that is only one side of the story.
In reality, sacred space often holds something more expansive and life-giving:
Laughter that rises unexpectedly
Play that invites freedom
Curiosity that opens new doors
Creative expression that bypasses the intellect and speaks from the heart
Spontaneous joy that bubbles up in the midst of grief or growth
The presence of God is not always weighty. Sometimes, it’s wonderfully light.Sometimes, the holiest thing that happens in a session is a burst of shared laughter—a moment when shame loosens its grip and the client remembers that joy is still possible.
In the Soul Change Model, we teach that sacredness is not about tone—it’s about attunement.
A sacred space is not defined by seriousness. It’s defined by sensitivity:
Sensitivity to the client’s internal world
Sensitivity to what the moment holds
Sensitivity to the gentle movements of the Spirit
Sacredness shows up when the therapist is fully present and attuned—whether that means holding space for tears, celebrating a moment of relief, or joining in lighthearted storytelling that helps a client reclaim their voice.
Jesus Himself wasn’t always solemn. He told parables that sparked imagination, asked playful questions, and drew children close with a smile. He modeled a sacred presence that was strong but not severe, holy but not heavy-handed.
Therapists walking in the way of Christ must also learn to hold space for both grief and delight—sometimes in the same session. We are not called to manufacture solemnity. We are called to be present to what is—to join the client in their emotional reality and to trust that the Spirit knows how to move in every kind of moment.
In sacred space:
Tears and laughter are both welcome.
Depth and delight are not in competition.
Lightness can be just as healing as lament.
The invitation is not to be serious. The invitation is to be attuned—to the person in front of us, to the movements of their soul, and to the quiet promptings of the God who is always with us.
Reflection
Think about your own counseling space—physical and internal. What messages does it send your clients?
What kind of presence are you offering in the room? How might you deepen the sense of sacred welcome your clients experience?
What practices might help you become more attuned to the Spirit before and during sessions?
References
Crabb, L. (1997). Connecting: Healing for ourselves and our relationships. Word Publishing.
Langberg, D. (2015). Suffering and the heart of God: How trauma destroys and Christ
restores. New Growth Press.
Tan, S.-Y. (2011). Counseling and psychotherapy: A Christian perspective. Baker Academic.
Thompson, C. (2021). The soul of desire: Discovering the neuroscience of longing, beauty,
and community. InterVarsity Press.
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