Monday, 29 August 2011

• Tragedy and Faith: It is Well

  For those of you who do not already know:

  Horatio G. Spafford had a real string of tragedies in his life. Things started well, you'd think. It was the 1860's, he was a Chicago lawyer with a wife, one son and four daughters, good friends with D.L. Moody and well known in their community. It all seems to have gone downhill starting in 1870. His four year old son dies this year of scarlet fever. The following year, the Chicago fire took out real estate he had invested heavily in on the shores of Lake Michigan. 

  The family decided they needed a break and scheduled a trip to England. They went off to New York where they were to catch the French  steamer 'Ville de Havre' across the Atlantic. However, business came up and so he convinced his wife and four daughters to go ahead without him, he'd join them later. He went back to Chicago where nine days later, he received a telegram: "Saved alone".

  The 'Ville de Havre' had collided with 'The Lochearn', an English vessel, on November 2nd, 1873.The ship sank in only 12 minutes, with his wife and four daughters standing on the deck together. His wife Anna said her last memory was of her baby being torn from her by the violent waves. As soon as Horatio found out, he left for England. At one point, the captain informed him that they were right over the very spot where his four daughters had died, and that the water was three miles deep.  He went down to his cabin, and it was there that he wrote the following words:

  When peace, like a river, attendeth my way,
  When sorrows like sea billows roll;
  Whatever my lot, Thou has taught me to say,
  It is well, it is well, with my soul.
  
  It is well, with my soul,
  It is well, with my soul,
  It is well, it is well, with my soul.
  
  Though Satan should buffet, though trials should come,
  Let this blest assurance control,
  That Christ has regarded my helpless estate,
  And hath shed His own blood for my soul.
  
  My sin, oh, the bliss of this glorious thought!
  My sin, not in part but the whole,
  Is nailed to the cross, and I bear it no more,
  Praise the Lord, praise the Lord, O my soul!
  
  For me, be it Christ, be it Christ hence to live:
  If Jordan above me shall roll,
  No pang shall be mine, for in death as in life
  Thou wilt whisper Thy peace to my soul.
  
  But, Lord, ‘tis for Thee, for Thy coming we wait,
  The sky, not the grave, is our goal;
  Oh trump of the angel! Oh voice of the Lord!
  Blessèd hope, blessèd rest of my soul!
  
  And Lord, haste the day when my faith shall be sight,
  The clouds be rolled back as a scroll;
  The trump shall resound, and the Lord shall descend,
  Even so, it is well with my soul.

  What do you think of this story? What songs have touched you during a difficult time?

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