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Jan 4, 2024

Anne Steele

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Anne Steele (1717-1778) may be the greatest hymn writer in history, but unfortunately, not many know of her.  She published in 1760, under the pen name Theodosia, a collection of one hundred forty-four hymns she had composed, the first of its kind in Baptist circles. Until Anne came along, the only songs sung in Baptist churches were slow, plodding metrical Psalms.

Her hymns address all manner of everyday concerns, including suffering, given how Anne was personally acquainted with suffering. Her mother died when she was three, and Anne struggled with chronic malaria, with its accompanying side effects of anemia, fatigue, and a weakened immune system. When she was twenty, a potential suitor drowned in a tragic accident.

I admire her candor in praying about suffering. She isn’t shy about bringing her wrestling to God in prayer.

One of her remarkable hymns, “Dear Refuge of my Weary Soul,” follows here. Right from the outset, she simultaneously acknowledges God as her refuge and her weary soul: “When sorrows rise” and “trouble rolls,” she clings to God in hope. She acknowledges in verse 3 that when “gloomy doubts prevail” and “springs of comfort seem to fail,” she struggles to call upon God. In verse 5, she is bold to pray, “Hast Thou not bidden me to seek Thy face?”  She follows it with a second plaintiff question, “Can the ear of sovereign God be deaf when I complain?”

Her hymn closes with the assurance that God will somehow prevail over her afflictions. In the end, God will be enough. She can endure whatever providence brings so long as she is assured that God is with her and will save her in the end. Fortunately for us, this hymn is back in circulation.

I commend to you Keith and Kristyn Getty’s modern rendition of this remarkable hymn:

“Dear Refuge of my weary soul,
On thee when sorrows rise:
On thee, when waves of trouble roll,
My fainting hope relies.

To thee, I tell each rising grief,
For thou alone canst heal;
Thy can bring a sweet relief,
For every pain I feel.

But oh’ when gloomy doubts prevail,
I fear to call thee mine;
The springs of comfort seem to fail,
And all my hope declines.

Yet gracious God, where shall I flee?
Thou art my only truth,
And still my soul would cleave to thee,
Though prostate in the dust.

Hast thou not bidst me seek thy face?
And shall I seek in vain?
And can the ear of sovereign grace
Be deaf when I complain?

No, still the ear of sovereign grace
Attends the mourner’s prayer;
O may I ever find access,
To breathe thy sorrows there.

Thy mercy-seat is open still,
Here let my soul retreat,
With humble hope attend thy will,
And wait beneath my feet.”

Chris Fenner, Hymnology Archives, “Dear Refuge of My Weary Soul.”

Rev. Dr. Peter James served 42 years as the senior of Vienna Presbyterian Church in Vienna, VA — 21 years in the 20th century and 21 years in the 21st century. He retired in 2021 and now serves as Pastor-in-Residence at Gordon-Conwell Theological Seminary.

Even as a pastor, prayer came slowly to Pete. Read Pete’s story.