Seven Big Questions About Spiritual Direction

A while back, I stumbled across an article in Christianity Today by Richard Foster that framed spiritual direction around seven guiding questions. I found it so helpful and insightful, I wanted to add a few thoughts of my own. This isn’t a technical explanation—it’s more personal. It’s me, reflecting out loud on what this practice has meant in my life and in the lives of those I accompany.

I hope these reflections feel like a gentle conversation, and maybe even a starting point for your own journey.

1. What is spiritual direction, really?

Foster defines spiritual direction as “an interpersonal relationship in which we learn how to grow, live, and love in the spiritual life.” That resonates.

Traditionally, it’s said there are three chairs in a spiritual direction session—one for the director, one for the directee, and one for the Holy. That third chair is not symbolic; it’s a real invitation to the presence of the Divine in the conversation.

In my own work with my spiritual director, I’ve learned this: the more willing I am to bring the raw, hidden parts of myself into the light, the more room there is for grace. Some of the most transformative moments happen when we finally speak aloud the things we’ve kept buried. The tears, the confession, the quiet release—these are sacred acts.

2. How do we listen for God together?

Foster says spiritual direction is when “one person helps another understand what God is doing and saying.” I agree—but I’d phrase it a little differently.

For me, it’s about noticing. We listen together, not for certainty, but for the subtle movements of God’s presence. Over time, we learn to trust the way the Spirit whispers—not through dramatic signs, but through quiet awareness.

Many of us have become numb to noticing. Life gets loud. But when we create space, God becomes easier to see. Direction is a space where noticing becomes sacred.

3. What role does discernment play?

Discernment is at the heart of spiritual direction, but it often doesn’t look like a clear yes or no. It’s more like learning to walk with open hands.

Many people come to direction hoping for answers about what’s next. But often we need to pause first—to name the loss, to confront the resentment, to locate where God even is in our current season. We begin with presence, not decision-making.

Ignatian spirituality and Henri Nouwen’s writings have been companions for many in this space. For me, discernment begins when we realize we are not alone in the unknowing.

4. Is there control or agenda in spiritual direction?

Absolutely not.

This is one of the most beautiful—and most misunderstood—parts of spiritual direction. We are not preachers, persuaders, or therapists with a plan. We are listeners.

There’s no domination or control because there is no agenda. I begin every session with a quiet moment of becoming present—asking God to be heard in whatever direction the conversation unfolds.

Direction isn’t about giving advice. It’s about holding space.

5. How do spiritual directors guide, if not by telling?

Foster says we guide “through the spiritual world by spiritual means.” That may sound lofty, but here’s what it means to me: I can only walk with others to the depths I’ve been willing to go myself.

If I’m closed off, I can’t offer much. So I stay committed to my own journey—meeting with my own director, engaging in spiritual conversations, practicing reflection—even imperfectly.

Honestly, I’m a bit of a haphazard practitioner of the spiritual disciplines. But I keep showing up. And the mystery shows up too.

6. Are spiritual directors really “ordained” by God?

That’s a strong word—ordained. But yes, I believe I’ve been called to this.

People have always shared their stories with me—uninvited, unfiltered, often at random. From hairstylists to strangers on Facebook Marketplace, I’ve heard sacred stories spilled out in everyday settings. I used to wonder why. Now I see it.

As Richard Rohr says, “God comes to us disguised as our lives.” I believe the Spirit used these moments to call me into this work.

7. What qualifies someone to hold space for the soul of another?

This work is holy—and tender. To be allowed into the soul space of another is a privilege I don’t take lightly.

When I check my calendar each night, I glance at the names of those I’ll meet with the next day. I hold them in my heart even before our conversation begins. I try to arrive to each session already present, already listening.

We all need that kind of presence from time to time. Not someone to fix us—but someone who will truly see us.

If these reflections speak to something stirring in you, maybe this is your invitation to explore spiritual direction for yourself.