Friday, July 25, 2008


I remember going to church while growing up and I loved singing the hymns. It was my favorite part. I loved listening to our pastor tell us who wrote the song and why they wrote it. I loved learning the background behind every song realizing that it may have been written at a most painful time in someones life. Out of that pain came a blessing that God is still using to reach people today.

Maybe the song was written based on a life experience or one person learning to have complete dependence on God. They had to let go of everything they held dear in this world, and they had to give it up to God. They had to trust Him with every ounce of their being.

I remember thinking about one song in particular. The song is "It Is Well with My Soul" written by H.G. Spafford. The words were inspired as he passed near the spot where his daughters were lost at sea after a collision with another boat. His wife was the only survivor. To be able to write these amazing words at a time in your life when you've lost your beloved children is only because of God.

I would like to share the words to this hymn. I sing this every night while putting my children to bed as a reminder that they are HIS children. He has blessed Mike and I, for a time, by allowing us to raise them. It is an honor to teach them about God's love and mercy and to raise them they way He wants us to. I pray that we never forget what a privilege it is to lead them, teach them and train them in a godly manner. I also pray for God to bless us with a many, many years with our children. So that we may see them grow.

It Is Well with My Soul

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 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!
Blessèd hope, blessèd rest of 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.

No comments: