A man I will call Thomas came to me about six months after his wife’s death. He had been a deeply religious person his entire adult life — a churchgoer, a prayer, a man who had built his understanding of the world on a foundation of faith. He sat across from me in our first session and said, with a flatness that told me how long he had been carrying this: ‘I don’t believe anymore. And I don’t know who I am without it.’
Thomas was not asking me to restore his faith. He had tried that. The prayers felt hollow. The rituals felt performative. The community that had sustained him felt, in the aftermath of his grief, like people speaking a language he no longer understood. What he needed was someone to sit with him in the silence where his faith used to be — and to help him discover that the silence was not the end of meaning. It was the beginning of a different kind of it.
A spiritual crisis is not a sign that your faith was false. It is often a sign that it was real enough to be truly shaken.
What Is a Spiritual Crisis?
A spiritual crisis — what I refer to in clinical terms as spiritual distress — occurs when the beliefs that have given our life meaning, structure, and a sense of safety are suddenly no longer adequate to hold what we are experiencing. It is the moment when ‘everything happens for a reason’ runs directly into a reason you cannot accept. When ‘God is good’ collides with a diagnosis, a death, or a suffering that seems to have no redeeming purpose whatsoever.
This kind of crisis is not limited to traditionally religious people. It can happen to anyone whose sense of meaning — whether rooted in faith, in a worldview, in a life philosophy, or simply in the assumption that life is fundamentally fair — is disrupted by an experience of profound suffering.
The suffering that results from a spiritual crisis is among the most isolating I encounter in my clinical work. Because it is often unacknowledged, even by the person experiencing it. We are willing to say ‘I am sick’ or ‘I am grieving’ far more readily than ‘I no longer know what I believe’ or ‘I am furious at God.’ The latter feels dangerous. Shameful, even. And so it goes underground, where it compounds.
The Beliefs That Deepen Spiritual Suffering
In my work drawing on the Trinity Model that I developed— which brings together beliefs, suffering, and spirituality as interconnected dimensions of human experience — I have identified beliefs that consistently deepen spiritual suffering when illness or loss strikes.
‘I should not be angry at God — it means I have failed as a person of faith.’ This belief silences the very emotion that most needs expression. Anger at God is ancient and well-documented in every major spiritual tradition. Suppressing it does not make it holy. It makes it toxic.
‘If I had prayed harder or lived better, this would not have happened.’ This belief transforms suffering into punishment — a transaction gone wrong. It is perhaps the most common and most damaging spiritual belief I encounter, and it is almost universally false.
‘If my faith was real, it would not have broken.’ This belief mistakes faith for certainty. Real faith, in my experience, has been tested. It has been broken and rebuilt in a different shape. The breaking is not the opposite of faith. In many spiritual traditions, it is a prerequisite for the deepest kind.
What Can Be Found in the Silence
I want to be careful here not to offer Thomas — or anyone reading this — a tidy resolution. Spiritual crises are not solved. They are lived through, and in the living, something new sometimes emerges. I do not know what that something will be for you. Neither does anyone else.
What I can say, from 45 years of sitting with people in their most profound suffering, is this: the search for meaning in the midst of suffering is one of the most fundamentally human acts there is. It does not require certainty. It does not require a return to previous beliefs. It requires only the willingness to keep asking the question — even when the question feels like it might break you.
Thomas eventually found his way to something he called ‘a faith without a ceiling.’ He still attended his church. But he no longer needed it to explain his wife’s death. He needed it to hold him while he carried it. That shift — from explanation to accompaniment — is, in my experience, one of the most quietly profound transformations a person can make.
We do not always need our faith to explain our suffering. Sometimes we need it to accompany us through it.
This Is Not About Religion
I want to be clear that spiritual distress counselling, as I practice it, has nothing to do with any particular religious tradition — and everything to do with the human need for meaning. I have sat with devout Catholics and committed atheists, with Buddhists and agnostics and people who have never set foot in a place of worship. What they share is not a theology. It is the experience of a meaning-making system disrupted by suffering — and the need for a space to explore that disruption without judgment.
My role is not to restore your previous beliefs or to guide you toward any particular set of new ones. It is to create enough safety that the questions you have been afraid to ask can finally be asked. And in my experience, the asking itself is where the healing begins.
An invitation
If you have arrived at a place where the beliefs that once sustained you no longer hold — where you are carrying questions that feel too large, too dangerous, or too lonely to speak aloud — you do not have to carry them alone. A healing conversation can hold those questions with you without rushing to answer them or asking you to believe anything you do not yet believe.
Thomas ended our last session with something that has stayed with me. He said: ‘I came in here thinking I had lost my faith. I think what I actually lost was my idea of what faith was supposed to look like.’ That distinction — between faith and its expected form — is one that many people never get the chance to make. I would be honoured to help you make it.
To book a spiritual distress counselling session with Dr. Lorraine M. Wright:
Frequently Asked Questions
A spiritual crisis occurs when the beliefs that give our life meaning — whether rooted in religion, philosophy, or a personal worldview — are no longer adequate to hold, explain, or align with what we are experiencing. It often accompanies serious illness, loss, or trauma, and produces profound suffering, isolation, and a sense of lost identity.
Yes, entirely. Anger at God, or at the universe, is one of the most universal and underacknowledged responses to suffering. Every major spiritual tradition has a tradition of lament. Suppressing this anger does not resolve it — it compounds it. A safe, judgment-free space to express and explore this anger is often where healing begins.
Not at all. Dr. Wright’s approach to spiritual distress counselling is free from religious doctrine and appropriate for people of all faiths and none. What matters is not your theology but your experience — the disruption of your sense of meaning, purpose, or connection caused by suffering or loss.
Spiritual distress and depression can overlap, and it is important to distinguish between them. Spiritual distress is specifically related to a loss of meaning, belief, or spiritual connection. It is possible to experience spiritual distress without clinical depression, and vice versa. Dr. Wright works sensitively with both, and will always recommend appropriate additional support if needed.
The goal of spiritual distress counselling is not to restore a previous belief system but to help you explore what meaning, purpose, and connection look like for you now. In some cases, this process deepens or transforms an existing faith. In others, it opens a different kind of meaning-making. The destination is not predetermined — and that, for many people, is both the most frightening and the most liberating aspect of the work.
Visit lorrainewright.com/counselling-about-spiritual-distress-or-faith-crisis/ to learn more, or use the contact form at lorrainewright.com/contact/. Sessions are available online for clients in Canada and internationally.