It is well with my soul

"Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles, and let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us." Hebrews 12:1

I continue to be so thankful for the godly men and women that have gone before me and on into glory. They testify through their writings, songs, journals, poems, and legacies that God is enough.

I was listening to Nancy Leigh DeMoss's radio program (Revive our Hearts...SO GOOD!) as I walked on the treadmill today and I literally found myself sobbing as I listened to a story I have heard many times before but the weight of it...the weight of his love for God above all else...always strikes right to the core of me and I find my heart crying out to God that He would help me to know Him and love Him the way Horatio Spafford did when he penned the words to the song "It is Well with My Soul".

Even if you have heard his story before...would you take a few minutes and read it again as retold by Nancy...


Most of you have probably heard this story, but I think it’s one always worth repeating. Horatio Spafford was a successful Chicago lawyer and businessman in the mid-1800s. He and his wife, Anna, were close friends and prominent supporters of the evangelist D. L. Moody.

In 1870 the Spaffords’ only son was killed by scarlet fever at the age of four. A year later, all of the Spaffords’ sizeable real estate holdings on Chicago’s lake shore (if you’ve been there, you know that’s prime property) were destroyed by the great Chicago fire.

So they had suffered two huge losses; of course, one was far greater than the other, but losing a son at the age of four, and then losing all their real estate holdings.

In 1873, after all they’d been through, Horatio decided to take his family to England for a much needed rest. They were just worn out from the whole experience, and Moody was in Britain conducting evangelistic meetings at the time.

The family planned to go meet him there and help out in the ministry. The Spaffords traveled together to New York from Chicago where they were to board a ship to cross the Atlantic.

Just before they were to set sail, a last-minute business issue came up that Horatio had to attend to. Instead of having the whole family delay their trip, he decided to send his family on ahead, as had been planned, and he would follow later after he attended to his business.

So his wife, Anna, and their four daughters set sail while Horatio went back west to Chicago to take care of the problem. Nine days later, Spafford received a telegram from his wife, who was, by this time, in Wales.

The telegram read simply, “Saved alone.” En route from New York to Europe, the ship that his wife and children were on had collided with another ship, and within 12 minutes the ship that his wife and family were on had sunk, and 226 people had lost their lives.

Anna had stood on the deck with her daughters, Anna, Maggie, and Bessie, clinging desperately to her, and then she watched as they were swept away into the sea.

Her last memory was of her baby, a little girl named Tinetta, being torn from her arms by the surging waters. Anna, too, was cast into the sea and became unconscious, but she was saved because a plank floated underneath her body and supported her until she was rescued.

When he heard the horrible news, Horatio took the next ship from New York to join his wife in Europe. At one point, while they were still in the Atlantic, the captain called Horatio to the bridge and said, “I believe this is the spot where the ship that your family was on went down.”

Horatio went back to his cabin on that ship where he wrote the words to this hymn that we’ve all sung, and it’s brought comfort to how many millions of believers in the many years since then:

When peace, like a river, attendeth my way,
When sorrows like sea billows roll,
Whatever my lot, [pleasure or pain, sun or rain, gain or loss, life or death],
Whatever my lot, Thou hast taught me to say,
"It is well; it is well with my soul."

Though Satan should buffet,
[and by the way, this is really just a variation on Habakkuk’s song],
Though Satan should buffet,
Though trials should come,
Let this blessed assurance control:
That Christ has regarded my helpless estate
And has 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!