Thursday, March 06, 2008

• It Is Well...

  On Sunday we were singing this hymn in church  - It Is Well With My Soul.  I remember learning this hymn on an ancient music program that our Apple II computer used to have.  For some reason this song became a favorite of mine (I was 10, what did I know about sorrow?) and I memorized all the words and sang my little heart out right along with the computer.
  
  So - on Sunday while we were singing this song, I looked at some people around me.  People who have experienced really real grief.  I was behind the family of a man who died suddenly.  His death has been really tough for his wife to recover from because he was a pillar for her.  I saw her wipe her eyes during this song, watched her granddaughter give her a side hug, watched as they joined together to sing "Lord, whatever my lot, Thou hast taught me to say, even so, it is well, with my soul."
  
  Yesterday I got the word that the husband of one of my best friends from high school died tragically on his motorcycle.  They have a son, and another on the way.  I called her - not to comfort her, how could i?  I called her and cried with her because the grief is too much to bear by ourselves.  I'm praying for hope in her life - that she not be overwhelmed with the pain.  I'm praying that people come around her and love on her and her son.
  
  Truth is - when life hurts this bad - it's hard to understand how to say that "it is well with my soul".  It's hard to trust that a loving God is in control when he allows painful things to happen to people we love.  The comfort in this?  That God is there in our pain with us...that we aren't alone in this crazy pain filled world....that there is more than this life.
  
  

  It Is Well With My Soul
  

  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.
  

  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.
  

  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!
  

  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.
  

  Horatio Spafford

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  

  
  (In memory of Eddie Eagan)
  

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