What is it that can cause a man who has lost almost every earthly blessing to pen it is well?
My most favourite hymn of all time is the haunting story of the blind-eyed faith of Horatio Spafford’s It is Well.
No doubt the story of Spafford writing it, when crossing the Atlantic, at the place where his four daughters drowned (after previously losing his young son to death, and experiencing his financial ruin in the great Chicago Fire) only enhances the significance of it’s meaning.
When I am faced with life-shaking struggles, or mountain-high obstacles that seem impossibly unmovable, or when I just cannot seem to see what is around the next corner, I am confronted with the question,
can I still sing, it is well with?
And I do sing it, sometimes with expectant joy, more often through clenched teeth, robotic.
God does not ask for me (us) to be a mannequin-like worshipper, he wants my (our) gritty heart-broken soul. He wants me (us) to understand what faith is, “the confidence of what we hope for, the assurance of what we do not see” (Hebrews 1:1).
Following this definition of faith are reminders of the those who have lived with blind-eyed faith (Noah, Abraham, Moses, Rahab etc.). The chapter ends with these words:
“These were all commended for their faith, yet none of them received what had been promised, since God had planned something better for us so that only together with us would they be made perfect.” (Hebrews 1:39-40)
If we can have the confidence in our God, that he sees and knows what we do not. If we can hold to his promises, that he has something planned that we might not even live to see. If we can trust in his love for us, then it is well, with our souls.
Though the song below is not Spafford’s version, it holds that same blind-eyed assurance of his faithfulness to us.
itsawonderfilledlife 