It Is Well With My Soul (Repost)

(From a handout at Bible Study…)

In 1871, tragedy struck Chicago as fire ravaged the city. When it was all over, 300 people were dead and 100,000 were homeless. Horatio Spafford was one of those who tried to help the people of the city get back on their feet. A lawyer who had invested much of his money into the downtown Chicago real estate, had lost a great deal to the Chicago fire. Still, for two years Spafford…who was a friend of evangelist Dwight Moody…assisted the homeless, impoverished and grief-stricken ruined by the fire.

After about two years of such work, Spafford and his family decided to take a vacation. They were to go to England to join Moody and Ira Sankey on one of their evangelistic crusades, then travel in Europe. Horatio Spafford was delayed by some business, but sent his family on ahead. He would catch up to them on the other side of the Atlantic.

The ship his wife and daughters traveled on, the Ville de Havre, never made it. Off Newfoundland, it collided with an English sailing ship and sank within 20 minutes. Though Horatio’s wife, Anna, was able to cling to a piece of floating wreckage, their four daughters were killed. Horatio received a horrible telegram from his wife, only two words long…”Saved Alone.”

After receiving Anna’s telegram, Horatio immediately left Chicago to bring his wife home. On the Atlantic crossing, the captain of his ship called Horatio to his cabin to tell him that they were passing over the spot where his four daughters had perished. He wrote to Rachel, his wife’s half-sister, “On Thursday last we passed over the spot where she went down, in mid-ocean, the waters three miles deep. But I do not think of our dear ones there. They are safe, folded, the dear lambs in the Lord’s hands.” Horatio wrote the hymn below, still sung today, as he passed over their watery grave.

PEACE LIKE A RIVER

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.

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 hath regarded my helpless estate,
And hath shed His own blood for my soul.

It is well…with my soul… It is well, it is well, with my soul…

He lives–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, Oh my soul.

It is well…with my soul… It is well, it is well, with my soul…

And, Lord, haste the day when our faith shall be sight
The clouds be rolled back as a scroll,
The trumpet shall sound, and the Lord shall descend;
Even so, it is well with my soul…

It is well…with my soul… It is well, it is well, with my soul…

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