It Is Well With My Soul

Within this journey I have, so far, been on in my hymn research quest there have been a handful of “my favorites”. Of course, almost any epic story of loss, and tragedy I will probably somehow label “my favorite”. This time it’s a little different though, it’s hard to describe in a short paragraph how much meaning this story holds to my soul... shall I say “It is well” with my soul? For some reason I feel there’s so much more depth than that, but I will let Horatio Spafford’s story speak for itself....

In Eighteen Seventy One the great Chicago fire consumed much of the Windy City, leaving Horatio Spafford at a great financial deficit as he was heavily invested in much of the real estate. Had Horatio only known the storms to come, this minor tragedy would hardly even seem worth noting in his life...It was within that same time that he lost his four-year-old son to scarlet fever, and because of that had drowned himself in the cause of rebuilding Chicago, helping the nearly one hundred thousand who had been left homeless.

After a long, and rough journey Horatio decided to take his wife, and four daughters on a vacation to Europe. When urgent work matters kept him detained in New York he went ahead, and sent his wife and daughters on to Europe without him. He settled them into a cabin aboard the VILLE DU HAVRE - with an unsettled feeling that he ignored.

Upon that trip his unsettled feelings confirmed themselves; the VILLE DU HAVRE collided with an iron sailing vessel, which sent it plummeting to the ocean floor. Two hundred and twenty six lives were lost that night, and among them were all four of Horatio’s daughters; Bessie, Maggie, Tanetta, and Annie Spafford.

Horatio’s wife Anna was found barely alive, afloat upon a piece of wreckage. She was rescued, and brought to Wales where she cabled her husband two words; “Saved Alone”.

It was said that when Anna Spafford was pulled from the wreckage the first words from her lips were “I lost all of my children, and someday the Lord will help me understand why.” Horatio left immediately to receive his wife, and while sailing over the very place his daughters had drowned he curled up in his cabin, and whispered to himself “It is well: The Lord’s will has been done”. How beautifully close does that sound to the words Jesus said himself on the cross? Just a side note in my head...

Never the less, these famous words, as we all know, were later penned into the famous hymn we know today.

How does one attain such a faith that gives the strength to trust in the will of Christ when all five of your children have been taken from you? I pray that myself, nor anyone I know has to find that out. I believe Horatio set a standard in faith for many of us though. How often do we find the strength to say to ourselves “It is well with my soul” when we suffer loss? When we can’t pay the bills? When we lose our self respect? We will even curse the air we breathe after stubbing our toe, or burning dinner. Perhaps this week I will focus more on what it would mean to let “it” be well with my soul. Whatever the “it” is that comes up this week. We all have an “it”. I would encourage you to do the same. Whatever your lot, He has taught us to say.... Well, you know the rest.

When “It is well with my soul” was written it was Phillip Paul Bliss, close friend of Horatio’s, and author of “I will sing of my redeemer”, that wrote the music to it which he entitled “VILLE DU HAVRE.” As you may recall, Phillip died shortly after writing “I will sing...” trying to save his wife from a horrible train wreck... Funny how all of our stories seem to intertwine... coincidence? Probably not.

What A Friend We Have In Jesus

It was a poem to begin with. A poem in which Joseph Scriven, a blue eyed, eccentric irishman, intended for his mother as a bit of comfort in times of crisis. A poem that once landing in the right hands... became one of the most well known hymns we hear today.

Joseph sent words of comfort to his mother... “What needless pain we bear all because we do not carry everything to God in Prayer...”

Powerful words considering the life Joseph had run away from in Dublin Ireland. At the time Joseph wrote his poem to his mother he was living in Canada, which is where he sailed to after his bride-to-be had drowned the day before their wedding when Joseph was twenty-five years old.

It wasn’t until nearly ten years later in Canada that Joseph fell in love again with a woman named Eliza Catherine Roche. Until... once again tragedy struck, and he lost his fiance to illness.

I don’t know much about losing a loved one, especially one I intended to marry...twice...but, what I can only try to imagine is enough to get slightly choked up while spending time contemplating this story. It is enough to validly assume that after so much trauma Joseph would be furious at God, and turn away from his faith. But, if anything stands out while researching the life of Joseph Scriven, it is that he was spoken of as a man who would give the shirt off his back to those in need. That his time was mainly spent lending a hand to the poor, and giving freely of what money he had.

In fact, many didn’t even know of his poetic talents until closer to the end of his life. “What a Friend We Have In Jesus” was published anonymously in Eighteen Fifty Five, and Joseph did not receive credit for it until the Nineteen Eighties. I have a feeling Joseph preferred it this way... In fact, when Joseph was asked about the hymn, and whether or not he’d written it his response was “The Lord and I did it between us”.

In Eighteen Ninety Six Joseph became ill to the point of delirium that caused him to run into a creek... where he drowned himself.

When Joseph was buried it was arranged so that his feet would be placed opposite Eliza’s. So that when he was resurrected he, and Eliza would be sure to arise facing each other.

Upon Joseph’s grave was built an obelisk in honor of him by those who loved his hymn. Among the engraving it is written “Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God”.

Maybe it is just the celtic music I have playing on my computer as I write this story that stirs up the emotions, or maybe it is just that beautiful... But, I don’t think there could have been a better phrase to place in honor of a man so humble as Joseph Scriven.