You've heard it. Probably in a dusty church basement with a flickering fluorescent light or at a funeral where the air felt too heavy to breathe. The song is "What a Friend We Have in Jesus," but everyone searches for it by the hook: take it to the lord in prayer lyrics. It’s one of those hymns that feels like it has just always existed, like gravity or the smell of old hymnals. But the story behind those words isn't some polite, stained-glass fairy tale. It’s actually kind of a wreck.
Joseph Scriven wrote the words in 1855. He wasn't trying to win a Dove Award or get featured on a worship playlist. Honestly, he was just trying to keep his mother from falling apart. He was in Canada, she was back in Ireland, and she was going through a "time of special sorrow." We don't know the exact details of her crisis, but Scriven's life was already defined by tragedy. Imagine this: the day before his wedding, his fiancée drowned. He literally saw her body pulled from the water. That kind of trauma doesn't just go away. It stays in the marrow.
The Raw Truth Inside the Take It to the Lord in Prayer Lyrics
When you actually sit down and read the take it to the lord in prayer lyrics, they aren't just happy thoughts. They are survival instructions. Scriven wrote them as a poem first. He didn't even want credit for them. He lived a life of extreme poverty, giving away his clothes and his money to the point where people in Port Hope, Ontario, thought he was a bit eccentric, or maybe just a saint.
The first stanza starts with a list of things we all deal with. Sins. Griefs. It’s a heavy opening. But the pivot happens immediately. "What a privilege to carry / Everything to God in prayer!" That word "privilege" is doing a lot of heavy lifting there. Scriven wasn't saying it’s a chore. He was saying it's a relief. Most people think prayer is this formal, "Thou Art" kind of performance. But Scriven’s lyrics suggest it’s more like a pressure release valve for a soul that’s about to pop.
Why We Get the Second Verse Wrong
"Have we trials and temptations? / Is there trouble anywhere?"
These aren't rhetorical questions. For Scriven, trouble was a constant companion. After his first fiancée died, he moved to Canada to start over. He fell in love again. Her name was Eliza Roche. They were set to marry. Then, she got sick. She died before they could wed. Two times. Two women. Two lives cut short. When you know that, the line "Can we find a friend so faithful / Who will all our sorrows share?" feels less like a cliché and more like a desperate, hard-won conviction. He wasn't writing from a place of easy peace. He was writing from the trenches.
It’s easy to sing these songs on a Sunday morning when everything is fine. It’s a whole different thing to sing them when you’ve lost everything. Scriven knew that Jesus knows our every weakness. That's a specific kind of empathy. It's not a "fix it" kind of empathy; it's a "sit in the dirt with you" kind of empathy.
The Melody That Changed Everything
Scriven’s poem might have stayed in a private letter if it hadn't been for Charles Crozat Converse. He’s the guy who wrote the tune we all know in 1868. Music is weird like that. You can have the most profound words in the world, but if the melody doesn't catch, they vanish. Converse gave it a simple, repetitive structure that makes it impossible to forget. It’s a folk-style tune. It’s humble.
Interestingly, Scriven didn't even know his poem had been published for a long time. It was released anonymously. A neighbor saw it and asked him about it. Scriven basically said, "The Lord and I wrote it together." That’s a very Scriven thing to say. He wasn't interested in the "author" brand. He was interested in the utility of the message.
Does it still work in 2026?
People are lonely. We have 5,000 digital friends and nobody to call when the car breaks down at 2 AM. The take it to the lord in prayer lyrics hit differently in a world of high-speed anxiety. The song tells you to "forfeit peace" if you don't pray. That's a bold claim. It suggests that peace is the default state we're supposed to have, but we lose it because we insist on carrying the weight ourselves.
Psychologically, there's something to this. Internalizing stress—"all because we do not carry / everything to God in prayer"—is a recipe for burnout. Whether you view it through a theological lens or a purely meditative one, the act of "unloading" or "casting" burdens is a recognized coping mechanism. Scriven just happened to find a way to make it rhyme.
Common Misconceptions About the Hymn
One big mistake people make is thinking this song is about asking for things. It’s not a "Dear Santa" prayer. Look at the lyrics again. It’s about companionship. "In His arms He’ll take and shield thee / Thou wilt find a solace there."
- The "Friendship" aspect: In the 1800s, "friend" was a deeply significant term. It wasn't a casual Facebook friend. It was someone you were bound to.
- The "Weakness" aspect: The lyrics acknowledge that we are "weak and heavy laden." It’s an invitation to stop pretending.
- The "Despised" aspect: One line mentions being "despised, forsaken." Scriven was often mocked for his lifestyle. He lived it.
The song doesn't promise that the "trials and temptations" will go away. It doesn't say the "trouble" will vanish. It says you don't have to carry it alone. That’s a massive distinction that a lot of modern "self-help" spirituality misses.
The Practicality of Scriven’s Faith
Scriven was a member of the Plymouth Brethren. They were big on simplicity and direct access to God. No middleman. No fancy robes. This is why the take it to the lord in prayer lyrics feel so accessible. They don't require a degree in theology. They require a burden. If you've got a burden, you're qualified to sing the song.
There’s a story—maybe apocryphal, but it fits the man—that Scriven was seen walking down the street carrying a saw. A wealthy man tried to hire him to cut wood. Scriven refused. He said he only cut wood for people who couldn't pay for it. That’s the guy who wrote these lyrics. He wasn't looking for a paycheck; he was looking to serve.
How to Use These Lyrics for Personal Reflection
If you’re looking up these lyrics because you’re going through it right now, don't just read them. Internalize the cadence. The structure is designed to move from the problem to the solution in every single verse.
- Identify the "Needle": What is the specific grief or thorn?
- The Transfer: Physically or mentally "take it" to a higher power.
- The Result: Solace, not necessarily a solution.
Sometimes a solution isn't possible. Some things can't be fixed. But according to Scriven, everything can be shared.
The ending of the hymn is particularly poignant. "Soon in glory bright, unclouded / There will be no need for prayer." It looks forward. It acknowledges that prayer is a tool for the "now," for the messy, broken, confusing present. It’s a temporary bridge.
Actionable Steps for Connecting with the Hymn
To truly get the most out of the take it to the lord in prayer lyrics, try these steps:
- Read the full original text: Many modern hymnals cut out verses. Find the full version of Joseph Scriven's 1855 poem to see the nuances he included for his mother.
- Listen to different versions: From Aretha Franklin’s soul-stirring rendition to Alan Jackson’s simple country version, the way the lyrics are delivered can change your emotional response to them.
- Practice "The Great Exchange": When you hit a moment of "anxious care," use the chorus as a mental cue to stop and verbally or silently articulate what you are handing over.
- Study the life of Joseph Scriven: Understanding that these words came from a man who lost two wives and lived in poverty adds a layer of "street cred" to the lyrics that you won't get from a surface-level reading.
The power of this song isn't in its complexity. It’s in its honesty. It admits that life is hard, people are weak, and sorrows are real. But it also insists that no one has to walk through the fire alone. That’s why we’re still searching for these lyrics nearly 170 years later.