Thursday, January 18, 2007

It Is Well With My Soul

The beloved hymn "It Is Well With My Soul" was written in 1873 by Horatio Spafford after two tragic events in his life. In 1871, the Great Chicago Fire destroyed much of the vast wealth of Spafford. Shortly after, his four daughters were killed when their ship collided with another ship in the Atlantic. Spafford's wife, Anna, was the only surviving family member, sending Spafford a telegram stating "Saved Alone". The devastation in his life was horrendous. While traveling across the Atlantic sometime later, Spafford was moved by the power of the Holy Spirit to pen the text that we know as this great hymn. That inspiration came as they sailed near the site of the accident.

Philip Bliss put these wonderful words to music just three years after they were written. But the story of tragedy associated with this hymn continues as Bliss dies in a train accident shortly after completing the hymn.

Take a closer look at the text of the hymn below. You know it well and have sung it many times. It is all about the trials of life and something else. I remember a funeral for a co-worker which included this hymn. Afterwards, while speaking with other co-workers, someone mentioned that horrible song that spoke of the terrible things that happen in life. I thought maybe I had missed something but upon further investigation, she was speaking of "It Is Well with My Soul". Apparently she had missed all of the comfort that is delicately woven into the text. Woven in but missed by someone who did not share these beliefs.

What comfort can be found in these great words for those who are God's people! I pray that the text would be a blessing to you today.

It Is Well with My Soul. Text by Horatio Spafford. Music by Philip Bliss
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.
Refrain
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.
Refrain
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!
Refrain
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.
Refrain
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!
Refrain
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.
Refrain

Blessings

Mark

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