We celebrate the birth of a child (most likely He was not born in December at all) so that we could let the world know, there is peace. He brought it. There is hope. He has it. Maybe the tragic story of Horatio Spafford could tell it a little better.
Horatio, a well-to-do lawyer in Chicago, had one son and four daughters. His only son died. Then, while on vacation with their mother, on the Villa Du Havre, his four daughters drowned when their boat collided with the English ship, Lochearn. Only his wife survived.
How is it that after all this, he was able to say it is well with my soul? These are his words.
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”
Chorus: It is well (it is well)
with my soul (with my soul)
It is well, it is well with my soul
Though Satan should buffet,
though trials should come,
Let this blessed 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!
And Lord haste the day
when the 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.
Words by Horatio Spafford
Music by Philip Bliss
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”
Chorus: It is well (it is well)
with my soul (with my soul)
It is well, it is well with my soul
Though Satan should buffet,
though trials should come,
Let this blessed 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!
And Lord haste the day
when the 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.
Words by Horatio Spafford
Music by Philip Bliss
That's the peace, I'm talking about. I hope and pray you find it this Chrismas Season. Hope is yours, peace is yours. The name is Jesus. You might have to say it out loud, for your own sake not His. Because He'll hear even your whisper.
Horatio Spafford Christmas blues hope It Is Well With My Soul peace Jesus
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