Music Monday ~ "It is well with my soul" by Horatio Spafford {sung by Selah}

His 4 year old boy died from scarlet fever in 1871. Shortly after he and his family suffered great financial loss during the Chicago fire.
In 1873 Horatio Spafford his wife Anna and his 4 daughters decided to travel to Europe. Horatio, discovering that he would be delayed due to some business that he had to deal with, decided to send his wife and daughters on ahead of him.
A few days later he received a devistating telegram from Anna that said "saved alone".
This ship that Horatio's family was traveling on had collided with another ship in the heavy fog and had sunk. Only his wife was saved alive.
Later as Horatio made the trip across the ocean to be reunited with Anna, someone informed him that they were approaching the area where his daughters has been lost.
He went up on deck and wrote the words that later became the famous hymn, "It is well with my soul".

I think it is so amazing that even though this man had lost nearly everything on this earth, he still was able to say "It is well with my soul".
He understood that even though he may have been having deep sorrows and trouble here on the earth, it was still well with his soul, because he had his sins forgiven, he had a God that loved him and he had a heavenly home to look forward to.

And this has inspired me to say for myself.
"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!"

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.


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!
Blessed hope, blessed 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.


Horatio Spafford