It Is Well With My Soul
Genesis 4
Consider this: when life wounds us—when we are touched by injustice or tragedy—is God still good? Now outside the garden, Adam and Eve find themselves in a world marked by the brokenness of human depravity, and yet God is still deeply involved. Genesis 4 speaks of beauty and heartbreak—joy, love, worship, jealousy, violence, grief, and finally, hope. For the first time in human history, the consequences of sin reach into the next generation. Innocence is silenced, a life is taken, and grief enters the human story—not as an idea, but as a wound felt within a family.
After the fall, Adam and Eve step into a new world—a world that now includes pain, labor, and loss. Yet even here, within a story of pain, God’s promise is still true. Eve rejoices at the birth of her son and credits the Lord’s help, saying, “I have gotten a man with the help of the LORD” (Genesis 4:1). Perhaps she even wondered whether this child might be the promised seed who would one day crush the serpent (Genesis 3:15). But, as so often happens, God’s timing unfolds differently than human expectations (Isaiah 55:8–9).
While Cain and Abel both bring offerings to God, and although they are created in the image of God, we are reminded that not all worship of God is created equal—and not every outward act of religion reflects a heart of faith (Genesis 4:3–7). Abel offers his sacrifice “by faith, ” while Cain trusts in his own strength (Hebrews 11:4). God warns Cain that sin is “crouching at the door” and must be mastered (Genesis 4:7). God offers Cain grace before judgment—warning before violence.
What is often overlooked in this story is that before Cain ever went to Abel, God went to Cain. God warned him. God reasoned with him. God named the danger and offered a way forward. Cain was not acting in ignorance; he was acting in resistance and defiance. He could hear God’s voice, but he chose to tune it out. Only later—after sin had done its work and consequences had caught up to him—do we see Cain speaking to God again, not in repentance, but in complaint: “My punishment is more than I can bear” (Genesis 4:13). Cain was without excuse. In that sense, Cain becomes a mirror of the human heart today—how often people blame God for outcomes that followed ignored warnings, resisted truth, and hardened hearts. God speaks before sin destroys, but He does not coerce obedience. Grace warns; judgment confirms what we have already chosen.
But Cain refuses to heed God’s voice. Instead of turning toward God in repentance, he turns against his brother in resentment, leading Abel into the field—and killing him (Genesis 4:8).
Then comes one of the most haunting sounds in Scripture: “The voice of your brother’s blood is crying to Me from the ground” (Genesis 4:10). Eve—who once held Abel in her arms—now feels the grief of death. The son she may have hoped would defeat the serpent is instead swallowed by sin’s violence, leaving a mother’s heart broken beneath the weight of a fallen world.
Centuries later, another mother stands before blood-stained ground in deep sorrow. Mary watches her Son suffer on the cross, and the prophecy spoken over her is fulfilled— “a sword will pierce your own soul also” (Luke 2:35; John 19:25–27). As she stands beneath the cross and hears Jesus cry out to His Father, her heart is pierced as His blood falls to the ground. But where Abel’s blood cried out from the ground for justice, the blood of Jesus speaks a better word—the word of redemption and forgiveness.
The writer of Hebrews proclaims that Jesus is “the mediator of a new covenant, ” whose blood “speaks a better word than the blood of Abel” (Hebrews 12:24). What was broken in Abel’s story finds its fulfillment in Christ—where Abel’s death testified to sin and violence, Jesus’ death conquers sin and brings salvation. Where Cain refused to master sin, Jesus conquered it. Where jealousy birthed death, Christ’s death brought life. Where Abel’s grave testified to tragedy, an empty tomb declared victory. And so Paul proclaims, “O death, where is your sting? O grave, where is your victory?” (1 Corinthians 15:54–55). Even in grief, God’s promise is still advancing. His story is still unfolding. Redemption is already on the horizon.
I am reminded of Horatio G. Spafford, who wrote It Is Well With My Soul after the loss of his four daughters at sea in 1873. As he later crossed those same waters, he penned words born from deep sorrow—yet anchored in unshakable faith:
When peace like a river attendeth my way,
When sorrows like sea billows roll;
Whatever my lot, Thou hast taught me to say,
It is well, it is well with my soul.
Like Abel’s testimony, Spafford’s faith still speaks—reminding us that even in tragedy, God is near, He is still good, and His grace keeps us secure. And so here is the question: when life feels unjust… when sin wounds us… when sorrow weighs heavy—and when feelings fade—does our faith still say, “It is well with my soul”?