Sunday, July 22

It is well with my soul

Often, we sing a song, but never really care to know what is the meaning behind those words, who and why were they composed. Songs, are often taken for granted in the sense that words are just sung without emotions, without reason, without passion, without purpose. We sang this hymn at church this morning, and when the pastor gave a brief history on the song, it touches me deeply and I began to appreciate the song more and sung it with my heart, something which I've never done before.
"A beautiful hymn of peace and praise, incredibly, this song was penned from grief borne in the midst of the most tragic of circumstances"~Cathy Sheridan
"It Is Well with My Soul" is a very influential hymn penned by hymnist Horatio Spafford and composed by Phillip Bliss. This hymn was writ­ten af­ter several trau­matic events in Spaf­ford’s life. The first was the death of his only son in 1871, shortly followed by the great Chi­ca­go Fire which ru­ined him fi­nan­cial­ly (he had been a weal­thy bus­i­ness­man). Then in 1873, he had planned to travel to Europe with his family on the S. S. Ville Du Havre, but sent the family ahead while he was delayed on business. While cross­ing the At­lan­tic, the ship sank rapidly after a collision with an­o­ther ship, and all four of Spaf­ford’s daugh­ters died. Spaf­ford’s wife Anna sur­vived and sent him the now fa­mous tel­e­gram, “Saved alone.” Shortly afterwards, as Spaf­ford traveled to meet his grieving wife, he was inspired to write these words as his ship passed near where his daugh­ters had died~ Wikipedia
For full story, click here
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, 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.
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.

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