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.
(Verse 1 of hymn “It Is Well with My Soul”, written by Horatio G. Spafford, 1873)
This is the first verse to the hymn It Is Well with My Soul, which was sung at my father’s funeral service on Saturday. It has always been a favorite of mine, as it was also my father’s. I have been reflecting on the words to the various verses of this great hymn since Saturday. There is a lot of theology wrapped into each verse! Curious about the author of such a hymn, I looked up his bio on Wikipedia. Not surprisingly, he was a man of horrific tragedy. Horatio suffered great financial losses during the Great Chicago Fire of 1871, and afterward experienced the unspeakable loss of four daughters who drowned at sea during a failed voyage to Europe. He also lost his only son to scarlet fever at age four. Any one of these experiences would put a person in permanent PTSD and depression for life!
As I reflected on this first verse over the weekend, I’ve struggled a bit with the words. The first two lines sit beautifully with me, but the third and fourth lines about being taught to say “it is well” no matter my circumstances, are a bridge too far for me right now. It is not always well with my soul! As we’ve traveled through my father’s Parkinson’s journey, as I’ve witnessed the toll it’s taken on my mother, as I’ve struggled with guilt at not being very present for my husband – it has most definitely not been well with my soul. Some days were handled with grace and love, others I handled with frustration and a lack of control. No, my soul has not been well many a day. This morning, the image of Jesus sweating droplets of blood in the garden, as he contemplated his pending fate, reminded me that Jesus himself was not always well with his own soul. His humanity trumped his divinity as he knew the pain and suffering that were just hours away. That realization was a comfort to me.
What has, indeed, brought comfort to my soul were the many cards, visitations at my father’s viewing and service, and thoughtful texts and messages that I received from friends and acquaintances. The presence of others truly soothes the soul. It reminds one that we all journey together, and that journey was never meant to be taken alone. My faith has truly been a comfort to me, as I see God’s hand in so many happenings of the past weeks. Those divine reminders have been a comfort to my soul. But right up there with the divine, is the very human comfort of others who were present in word, thought, prayer, and deed. My prayer for myself, going forward, is that I be ever aware of the hurts of those around me. May I be their comfort when it is most definitely not well with their own soul.
Love to all,
Diana
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