The Secure Soul
My clients will probably tell you that I love listening to their parts—their inner family. Sometimes these parts are very young and can communicate only through the body: a tightness in the chest, a knot in the stomach, a sense of wanting to hide, run or shut down. Sometimes they have words and stories. Sometimes they carry emotions that seem much bigger than the situation in front of us. But underneath these different parts of ourselves, there is often a longing for safe connection.
One of the lovely privileges of being a counsellor is witnessing what happens when a person's inner world begins to experience that safety. It can be almost like watching a room slowly light up. A part that has been hidden or silenced begins to emerge. A story that has been waiting quietly in the shadows can finally be told. And, perhaps most importantly, the person discovers that they can approach these parts of themselves with curiosity and compassion rather than fear or shame.
I have a delightful little family of parts myself. They, too, long for safe places to bring stories that have been hiding.
For those of us who have intellectual parts that love a good logical—or even theological—explanation, the idea that we might be multifaceted can feel a little unsettling. We like answers. We like understanding. We like being able to make sense of suffering and find a clear pathway forward. And there is nothing wrong with our thinking parts. They are wonderful gifts. But sometimes our lovely little thinkers simply don't have the energy to think their way out of a problem.
That is often when we meet the parts of ourselves we might prefer to keep hidden.
They can lurk quietly in the background until something happens and suddenly—surprise!—they make themselves known. And generally, it isn't the fun kind of surprise. It might come in the form of frightening thoughts, intense emotions, familiar behaviours, or reactions that seem disproportionate to what is happening in the present.
These experiences can leave us wondering, Where did that come from? What's wrong with me? Why do I keep doing this?
Perhaps instead of asking, What's wrong with me? we can become curious about what is hurting within us.
These wounded places don't necessarily need to be fixed, argued with or pushed back into the darkness. They need tending. They need a kind witness. They need a compassionate presence that can welcome them into the light without being overwhelmed by what they carry. And for Christians, there is something deeply beautiful about bringing these hidden places into the presence of God.
Christian counselling can provide a safe space to gently explore the relationship between our thoughts, emotions, bodies, memories, relationships and faith. As Christian counsellors, we can accompany people as they journey towards greater wholeness, while making space for the hope that comes from knowing that God meets us in the places we would often rather avoid.
I sometimes picture this work like a choir of misfits.
Each voice has its own history. Some are loud, some are quiet. Some have been singing for years, while others have barely been allowed to make a sound. Some voices are carrying fear, some grief, some anger, some shame, and others are desperately trying to keep everything under control.
But when these different parts begin to experience safety, compassion and connection, something changes. They don't necessarily have to disappear. Instead, they can begin to find their place within the whole. It is a little like a choir discovering that the different voices don't have to compete with one another. They can learn to listen, to belong and, eventually, to sing together in beautiful harmony.
This is one of the reasons I have been enjoying Dr Alison Cook's book, The Secure Soul, during these holidays. Cook shares stories from her own experience of working with her parts while gently helping readers become curious about their own. What I particularly appreciate is that it is accessible without being overly technical. She weaves story, theology and psychology together in a way that invites rather than overwhelms.
As I have been reading, I have noticed some of my own parts letting out a little sigh of relief. Perhaps it is the relief of discovering that someone else is on this journey too.
We all carry stories within us. Some are easy to access and share. Others have been tucked away for a very long time. And sometimes the path towards healing begins simply by creating enough safety for those hidden places to be seen, heard and held with compassion.
We don't have to be afraid of the complexity of being human.
God already knows every part of us.
As the psalmist beautifully reminds us:
"You have searched me, Lord, and you know me." Ps.139:1
Perhaps wholeness is not about becoming someone who has no difficult parts. Perhaps it is about becoming increasingly able to bring our whole selves into the light—knowing that we are already fully known and deeply loved by God.

Meet the Author Nada Appleby
Hi, I'm Nada. I am a Christian Counsellor with Hope Christian Counselling. I love working with individuals across the life span helping them to safely explore their inner worlds so as to connect with God more fully and get to know the gifts and strengths he has given them in service to others. I try to bring into every session a glimpse of the compassion, love and acceptance that God has so freely given me. Visit Nada's page to learn more





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