All Is Well, All Is Well

 

Good morning, Dear Reader,

Over the past few days, I have been immersed in the Book of Psalms as I prepare for a lesson I will teach during the first week of September.

The book of Psalms is arranged in five separate books. Across its 150 psalms we encounter recurring themes of Torah and Messiah, lament and praise, faith and hope. Again and again, the writers speak honestly about fear, grief, uncertainty, gratitude, worship, and their trust in God.

One psalm that has caught my attention is Psalm 23:

“Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me.”

Here David gives us a beautiful message: the valley is real. The danger is real. But so is God’s presence.

Likewise, Psalm 46 offers reassurance in the midst of trouble:

“God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble.”

“Be still, and know that I am God.”

As I continued reading, I began to notice a recurring movement scattered throughout the Psalms: from pain toward trust, from lament toward praise, and from fear toward hope. That movement reminded me of a familiar hymn in the Latter-day Saint hymnal, “Come, Come, Ye Saints,” with its repeated assurance: “All is well! All is well!”

The hymn was written by William Clayton in 1846 during the westward journey of the Latter-day Saints. It was born in a time of uncertainty and hardship, shortly after Clayton received joyful news that his wife had safely given birth to their son. The Saints were still traveling an uncertain road, surrounded by mud, storms, illness, separation, and the unknown. Yet from within that difficult journey came the declaration: “All is well.”

That is the beauty of “All is well.” It is not a declaration that the world is calm. It is a declaration that God remains steady.

Psalm 121 and Psalm 34:18 reinforce that same confidence:

“I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills, from whence cometh my help.”

“The Lord is nigh unto them that are of a broken heart.”

Many of us hear the words “all is well” and imagine that they must describe a life without struggle. The Psalms teach otherwise. They were often written out of trouble, tears, fear, loneliness, and uncertainty. Their writers cried out to God honestly. They questioned. They grieved. They waited. Yet again and again, they returned to trust.

In much the same way, “Come, Come, Ye Saints” was born out of hardship, not comfort. Its repeated phrase “All is well” is not a denial of suffering. It is a declaration of faith made while the road is still difficult.

Faith does not always allow us to say, “Everything is well.” Sometimes faith simply allows us to say, “All will be well because God is with me.”

As I reflect on my own recovery from drugs and alcohol, I identify with many of the laments found in the Psalms:

·    some days are confusing

·    some prayers feel unanswered

·    some burdens do not leave quickly

·    some healing takes time

Yet through recovery I have found:

·    I can still take the next step

·    I can still trust God today

·    I can still believe I am being carried

·    I can still say, in hope, “All is well.”

Recovery has not taught me that every day will be easy. The Psalms do not promise that either. What both have taught me is that I do not have to walk through difficulty alone. God can be present in the valley, near to the broken heart, and steady when everything around me seems uncertain.

So, as I end this message, I find refuge in the Psalms because they remind us that we can cry out honestly in our pain, continue walking in faith, and discover that peace is not always the absence of trouble. Sometimes peace is simply knowing that God is with us in the middle of it.

And because He is with us, we can continue our journey saying, “All is well. All is well.”

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