Lyrics
I am trusting Thee, Lord Jesus,
Trusting only Thee;
Trusting Thee for full salvation,
Great and free.
I am trusting Thee for pardon;
At Thy feet I bow;
For Thy grace and tender mercy,
Trusting now.
I am trusting Thee for cleansing
In the crimson flood;
Trusting Thee to make me holy
By Thy blood.
I am trusting Thee to guide me;
Thou alone shalt lead;
Every day and hour supplying
All my need.
I am trusting Thee for power,
Thine can never fail;
Words which Thou Thyself shalt give me
Must prevail.
I am trusting Thee, Lord Jesus;
Never let me fall;
I am trusting Thee forever,
And for all.
Public domain hymn text and tune (written 1874).
The Story Behind the Hymn
Frances Ridley Havergal wrote "I Am Trusting Thee, Lord Jesus" in September 1874 while staying at Ormont Dessous in Switzerland. It was later published in her collections Loyal Responses (1878) and Life Chords (1880). Havergal, known among her contemporaries as "the consecration poet" for the way her hymns consistently turned toward complete surrender to Christ, wrote prolifically throughout a life cut short by illness at age forty-two.
Of everything she wrote, this hymn held a singular place in her own life. By later accounts, it was her personal favorite among all her compositions — and after her death, a copy of it was found tucked inside her pocket Bible, evidence of how closely she kept its words with her to the end.
The hymn's structure is built almost entirely on a single repeated phrase — "I am trusting Thee" — applied in turn to pardon, cleansing, guidance, power, and finally to the whole of life, "forever, and for all." It reads less like an argument for trust than a demonstration of it: six short stanzas, each naming one more thing handed over, without embellishment or extended reflection.
Havergal originally composed her own tune for the hymn, called Urbane, though it has since been set most often to Ethelbert W. Bullinger's tune from the same year. Given how plainly the hymn states its case — trust, repeated and specified, stanza after stanza — it is easy to see why a woman known throughout her short life for exactly that kind of unadorned surrender would have kept it closest of all.
