It is well

    

When peace like a river attendeth my way. 

When sorrows like sea billows roll.

Whatever my lot, thou hast my taught me to say,

 it is well, it is well with my soul

I grew up in a very old school traditional way church wise. When my peers were learning songs by Maranatha music and even Hillsong I was singing song number 231 in the hymnal. It gave me an opportunity to learn a different depth of worship. People criticize both old and new worship music for various reasons. But I love it all (I admit there are a few songs I will turn off. I'm not perfect lol) This particular song though always makes me feel some deep emotions. As a child I learned the story behind the writing of the song and I didn't have the tiniest understanding of what the author felt when he wrote it. Now, I have the benefit of experience and I feel this song in my bones. 

The author Horatio Spafford had lost his 4 year old son and was ruined financially by the great Chicago fire in the same year. 2 years later his family decided to join D.L. Moody in England for an evangelistic campaign. He was supposed to sail with his family but was held up due to an issue with his business. The ship that his family sailed on sank and his 4 daughters died. His wife sent him a famous telegram with the words "Saved alone." Soon after Mr. Spafford sailed to meet his wife in England and as he passed by the place his daughters had drowned he wrote this song. Maybe it's because I know that background that I'm in awe when I hear it. I don't know. But this year I have prayed this song. 

We are all going through a hard season. It's unusual that the entire world go through a difficult time simultaneously. There are so many things that break my heart right now as I know many others are experiencing. But I am repeating this song every day as a reminder to myself. In the good when there is peace, It is well. When things are bad and I am suffering or watching people I love suffer. It is well. Because in the end Jesus Shed his blood for 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!
Blessed hope, blessed rest of my soul.

And Lord, haste the day when the 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.