It Is Well With My Soul. In the 1870’s Horatio Spafford was a successful Chicago lawyer and a close friend of evangelist Dwight L. Moody. Spafford had invested heavily in real estate, but the Chicago fire of 1871 wiped out his holdings. His son died shortly before the disaster.
Spafford and his family desperately needed a rest so in 1873 he planned a trip to Europe with his wife and four daughters. Last minute business caused Spafford to delay his departure, but he sent his wife and four daughters on the S.S. Ville Du Havre as scheduled, promising to follow in a few days. On November 22 the ship was struck by the English ship Lochearn, and the ship sank in twelve minutes. Several days later the survivors landed at Cardiff, Wales, and Mrs. Spafford cabled her husband the brief message “Saved alone”.
When Horatio Spafford made the ocean crossing to meet his grieving wife, he sailed near the place where his four daughters had sunk to the ocean depths. There, in the midst of his sorrow, he wrote the unforgettable words, which appear below, that have brought solace to so many.
The Spafford’s went on to have two more children , a girl, and a boy. The boy would later die of whooping cough.
It Is Well With My Soul – Lyrics
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 blessed assurance control,
That Christ has regarded my helpless estate,
And hath shed His own blood for my soul.
It is well, with my soul,
It is well, with my soul,
It is well, it is well, with 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!
It is well, with my soul,
It is well, with my soul,
It is well, it is well, with 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.
It is well, with my soul,
It is well, with my soul,
It is well, it is well, with my soul.
A Christmas Memory
It is late Christmas Eve.
I am a child, sitting on my bed in my chilly upstairs bedroom in our century-old home. The only sounds I hear are soft Christmas music playing on my radio and the gentle hush of snow falling against the three frost-framed windows that wrap around two sides of my bed. The room’s lone source of light—a candle on my dresser beside the radio—casts flickering shadows across the walls and ceiling. Through one window, I can see the glow of a streetlight illuminating the white blanket of snow below. Another window beautifully frames the image of snow drifting against our white picket fence, nestled between our swing sets and the neighbors’. I sit for hours, completely absorbed in those sights and sounds. I realized that this moment is Heaven. “It Is Well With My Soul”.
That was my tenth Christmas Eve and one of many memories that serve me every Christmas Eve since.
I hope your memories serve you well as you retire this Christmas Eve. All is well.
Merry Christmas to All!
