Discerning + Demolishing Spiritual Strongholds in Therapy
For though we live in the world, we do not wage war as the world does. The weapons we fight with are not the weapons of the world. On the contrary, they have divine power to demolish strongholds. —2 Corinthians 10:3-4
I consistently found myself feeling confused, disconnected, and incompetent during sessions with a particular client. I didn’t understand why. I really liked them. But why did I end up feeling so fragmented in their presence? I was tempted to assume I must be doing something wrong to cause the disconnection. I felt the impulse to shrink and shrivel up in shame. By God’s grace, I got curious instead….
I specifically sought to understand what was going on relationally.
Transference is when a significant relational experience from a client’s past—along with the feelings, beliefs, and subsequent behaviors that come with it—’transfers’ to the therapeutic relationship. Generally, these past relational experiences aren’t positive ones. They’re old wounds projected onto a new relationship, longing for healing.
That these show up in therapy is a good thing. An opportunity. But, also, potential trouble.
Where there are wounds, there are strongholds.
Biblically, a ‘stronghold’ is a place or means of seeking safety—often, in our fallen nature, apart from God and His ways. Spiritual strongholds are the disordered feelings, thoughts, or behaviors we’ve turned to for refuge when wounded. They are often, tragically, the very thing that wounded us in another. Not truly a refuge at all, but a worldly weapon.
A chronically shamed and belittled child turns to shameless self-righteousness for safety…
An idolized ‘golden child’ painfully thrown off their pedestal turns to people pleasing and flattery…
As we draw close to our clients, these strongholds provoke something in us. And can tempt us to our own unholy safety-seeking.
My experience with my client was, in part, a reflection of their wound, and the place they sought refuge. They bore the wound of their parents’ denial, and then denial became their own sought-out safety. The way I felt with them was a glimpse of how they had felt at their most vulnerable, in the hands of those they trusted most. Now, they were unwittingly doing the same, though, thankfully, with someone much less vulnerable.
Our feelings and experiences with our clients can tell us much about their own, often suppressed, feelings and past experiences. The lies we are tempted to believe when we’re with them can tell us something about what they have believed. The ways they wound us point to their own wound.
My temptation to believe that the disconnection in those particular moments was my fault was part of my client’s wound. But it was not the truth—not for me on the receiving end of their denial, and not for my client on the receiving end of their parents’ when they were small.
To be clear, not everything that arises in us is reflective of our clients. Our own wounds or strongholds, and how they show up in the form of countertransference, is something we must look out for as well. This is especially important because of the greater power we hold in the therapeutic relationship. Often both transference and countertransference are at play, rather than one or the other. This was true in the case of my client and what was coming up for me in our sessions.
Therapy, like all of life, is spiritual warfare. Where lies and temptation exist, we know that the ‘father of lies’ is at work. We’ve landed on enemy territory—some part of our client’s soul and story where they’ve believed and been conquered by a convincing lie.
As children of the Most High God, we don’t have to cower in fear, fight with the world’s weapons, or seek safety in unholy places when this happens. Rather, being filled with the Holy Spirit and protected by His armor, we can discern the lies of the enemy, connect with and have compassion for our client’s pain, and choose to stand in and speak the freeing truth in love.
“It feels scary to acknowledge ____,” I might gently reflect to my client when denial shows up. Or, I might say nothing at all and simply be still, knowing that God is God.
All territory belongs to Him. By His perfect love, He is relentlessly pursuing every inch the enemy has stolen, in our own souls and in the precious souls of our clients.
May we fight according to how Jesus has fought for us. May our clients be re-conquered, set free, and healed by His love.
Questions for reflection + discernment
What is arising in me during and after my time with this client?
What am I tempted to believe and do in response to these feelings?
What wounds or past experiences might this be connected to in my story, or my client’s story?
What stronghold(s) may be present and contributing to my experience of this client?
What does standing in and speaking the truth in love with this client look like?
What truth do I need to be reminded of myself?
