I love you, Lord; you are my strength (Psalm 18:1; NLT).
I love you, Lord,
And worship you,
For every word you speak
Is true,
And though I feel
So far from you –
You’re near.
I’ll bear my cross,
And follow you,
Although my heart and soul
Are blue,
For though I feel
So far from you –
You’re here.
Be sure of this: I am with you always, even to the end of the age (Matthew 28:20; NLT).
The Lord gives and the Lord takes away. Blessed be the name of the Lord (Job 1:21; CSB).
My Father, my Mother,
My Sister, my Brother,
My Shepherd, my Lover –
I praise you.
My Saviour, my Maker,
My only Creator,
My Giver, my Taker –
I trust you.
My Word, and my Temple,
My Guide, and my Counsel,
My God: transcendental –
I love you.
You have allowed me to suffer much hardship, but you will restore me to life again (Psalm 71:20; NLT).
Every day is full of pain.
Every day I search in vain.
Will I see your face again,
My Saviour?
My poor heart is empty, Lord.
Still and dark, without a word
Of comfort, for no voice is heard,
My Shepherd.
Send your light, I humbly pray.
Guide me to your narrow way,
And show me, Jesus, what to say
To others.
Last Saturday evening I took my last dose of the drug which has made prayer and writing impossible for me. The effects had become intolerable. Today I heard the faint return of God’s voice, so I wanted to share it with you straight away, my friends.
With love from Ruth xxx.
Don’t stress, don’t strain –
Just love the Lord.
Say yes to pain –
And no to sin.
In life, in death,
With every breath,
Whatever comes,
We share with Him.
Hello at all readers. Thank you for still visiting here, despite my long absence. I last posted here on the 22nd of May, the day I started taking an additional antidepressant and anxiolytic to help me cope with my persistent, severe dread.
This problem dates back to my earliest childhood. I understand it well, and have worked for years to gain insight into it. I have had massive amounts of therapy of every possible kind that might help, including, most recently, clinical hypnotherapy. However, nothing has ever enabled me to overcome my emotions, or to live with them more comfortably.
When I realised I could go on no longer, I accepted the additional drug my doctor prescribed. For the first few weeks this drug was quite helpful. However, as soon as I started taking it, I lost all ability to pray, to hear God’s voice, and to write.
To begin with, of course, I did not know that these losses would continue, but that is, in fact, the case. Slowly, I am learning to rely on much-loved prayers I memorised long ago. Now I am trying to build a new life without the easy sense of oneness with God which sustained me for so many years, and without the daily inspiration which generated all the resources on this website.
In the last couple of weeks I have also started to face a new issue. As my body and mind grow accustomed to the new drug, anxiety and depression are creeping back. This means that the dose may soon need to be increased. Tomorrow I am due to report back to my GP, so it will be interesting to see what she advises.
All this leaves the future of Take Heart still unsettled. Last week a longstanding follower very kindly wrote to me. His letter prompted me to post this message here today, and to think more clearly about the future. One possibility is that my blog could resume in a new form, perhaps as an honest spiritual and mental health journal. Meanwhile, I continue to inhabit and explore my new spiritual territory – a life without any of the easy closeness to Christ I used to love so much.
Do let me know if you think this might be helpful to you.
With much love, from Ruth xxx
Hello to everyone who visits this page. Some of you will know that I have been struggling with severe anxiety, dread, and depression over recent months. This has been going on ever since my childhood dread was re-triggered by something which happened on Facebook.
Today I finally saw my doctor, who is starting me on a new, extra medication. She has also referred me for consultant-level help. She and I will speak again in two weeks, unless I need urgent help before that. The new medication will take at least 4-6 weeks to start having an effect, so it’s essential that I also start learning to be gentler and kinder to myself.
Accordingly, I’m pressing “pause” on my regular writing and daily posting here, so I can focus on my own recovery by giving my body, mind, heart, and soul the rest I desperately need.
Meanwhile, all the existing posts will stay right here, in case anything in the archives is helpful to others while I’m quiet for a while.
✝️ With much love, and many blessings to you all,
From Ruth xxx
You will live in constant suspense, filled with dread both night and day, never sure of your life (Deuteronomy 28:66; NIV).
I’m burnt out by anxiety,
My strength consumed by dread,
For stress has been my closest friend,
And fear my daily bread.
I’m damaged by abuse, Lord,
Though I’ve fought hard to repair
The consequence: no self-esteem,
Depression, and despair.
Despite my agoraphobia
I’ve done the best I could.
This life has been a challenge,
Though I’ve tried to do some good.
In spite of sickness, pain, and loss,
I’ve tackled each ordeal –
Now I’m worn down by suffering,
But you will come to heal.
Darkness is my closest friend (Psalm 88:18; NLT).
He will heal us (Hosea 6:1; NLT).
My generalised anxiety disorder (GAD) is very bad. It’s been like this ever since it was thoroughly re-triggered a few months ago when a stranger criticised me online. When I was praying yesterday, this blog came into my mind and heart. It shares how I am now learning to talk to my emotionally abused and damaged inner child.
This part of me was formed by how I was spoken to, screamed at, and treated in my family of origin. My aim is become as gentle, kind, supportive, patient, and loving to my inner child as Jesus was to the children brought to him.
This kind of prayerful reflection is often called “inner child work”, and involves imagining how we can gently care for the younger, perhaps wounded, parts of ourselves.
One day some parents brought their children to Jesus so he could touch and bless them. But the disciples scolded the parents for bothering him. When Jesus saw what was happening, he was angry with his disciples. He said to them, “Let the children come to me. Don’t stop them! For the Kingdom of God belongs to those who are like these children …
Little Ruth, you are very small and vulnerable, but I am 73 and have had lots of experience of life. Even if you never feel any less anxious and depressed than you do at present, I will still be here all the time to take care of you. What is more, I share this task with Jesus, who looks after us both.
I am here to help you with all your physical and emotional needs by:
… I tell you the truth, anyone who doesn’t receive the Kingdom of God like a child will never enter it.” Then he took the children in his arms and placed his hands on their heads and blessed them (Mark 10:13-16; NLT).
As I write to Little Ruth, perhaps you can also picture the younger, more vulnerable part of yourself – the one who learned to be anxious, afraid, or on guard, so early in life. You might like to imagine Jesus welcoming that child, just as he welcomed the children brought to him, then gently joining him in offering them warmth, safety and love.
If you wish, you could even write your own letter, promising to stay with that child in their fear, and to speak to them with the kindness and patience you may never have received.
My prayer is that as we learn to care for these small, wounded, frightened parts of ourselves with Jesus, we will discover a little more of the tenderness of God’s Kingdom, which belongs to such as these.
Blessed are those who have regard for the weak; the LORD delivers them in times of trouble (Psalm 41:1; NIV).
The Holy Spirit produces this kind of fruit in our lives: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control (Galatians 5:22-3; NLT).
Today’s prayer comes from a place of a really bad patch of migraines, anxiety, sadness and long‑standing wounds. As I offer my scars and fears to Jesus, I pray it may help you bring your own pain to him as well.
Jesus told him, “I am the way, the truth, and the life” (John 14:6; NLT).
I offer my past –
It’s an angry scar –
To you: my way,
And my guiding star.
I offer the dread
Of my darkest night –
To you: my truth,
And my shining light.
I offer my cross,
And my bitter pain –
To you: the Christ,
Who rose again.
I offer my thoughts,
My heart, and soul –
To you: my Lord,
My life, and my goal.
“My Lord and my God!” Thomas exclaimed (John 20:28; NLT).
I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus (Philippians 3:14; NIV).
This prayer came to me today at 6am, as I prepared to try a new church, with the (probably forlorn), hope of being welcome there, and perhaps even fitting in. Hope springs eternal! I am struggling – please pray for me, just as I pray for all of you each day.
Love the stranger (Deuteronomy 10:19; NKJV).
Will I be seen, Lord?
Will I be heard?
Will I be welcome,
Or will I be judged?
Will I be wanted?
Will I be sad?
Will I be lonely,
Or will I be loved?
Show love to foreigners (Deuteronomy 10:19; NLT).
Love your neighbor as yourself (Mark 12:31; NLT).