History

Written in 1873 by Horatio Gates Spafford, a New York native, this hymn was conceived after a relatively short period in Spafford's life which was fraught with tragedy after tragedy. Spafford was born in Troy in 1828, and became a well-known and respected lawyer in the Chicago area. He married Anna Spafford and together they were parents to nine children.

In 1871, Spafford had just entered a season of heartbreak that he would endure for some time. He and his wife Anna had just lost their four-year-old son. Not long after, the Great Fire of Chicago broke out and reduced to ashes most of the properties in which Spafford had invested. Then in 1873 the nation suffered an economic downturn which exacerbated Spafford's difficult financial position.

It was at this time that the Spafford family decided they would take a trip to Europe to see family friend and revered pastor, Dwight L. Moody. However, as the day approached, issues arose with some of Spafford's properties, and he had to stay back. He sent his wife and children ahead of him with intentions to arrive just a few days behind them. As Anna and her children crossed the Atlantic ocean, their ship collided with another ship. The wreckage sank quickly and claimed the lives of their four daughters. Mrs. Spafford survived, was rescued from the water, and arrived in Europe nine days later. It was there that she sent a telegraph to Mr. Spafford, which read: “Saved alone. What shall I do…”

Upon receiving the telegraph, Spafford left Chicago to bring his wife home. As he was sailing across the Atlantic, the captain of the ship called for Spafford and informed him they were passing the area where his daughters had drowned. It was here that Spafford began to write the stanzas of one of the most beloved and comforting hymns of all time.

Devotion

Many are familiar with the background of this great hymn and its birth out of a moment of great grief in Spafford’s life. But what is often less known is the rest of Spafford’s life — about the great many tragedies he suffered during his life on Earth.

But the trials that Spafford faced throughout his life never overshadowed his faith in Christ. Several days after the loss of his daughters, while traveling to bring his wife back home, Spafford wrote a letter to his sister-in-law which he stated:

“On Thursday last we passed over the spot where she went down, in mid-ocean, the waters three miles deep. But I do not think of our dear ones there. They are safe, folded, the dear lambs.”

This faith closely resembles one that we see in scripture — Job.

Job was a man who had it all. He had wealth, a beautiful family, a sizable estate — but in such a short time, every bit of it was taken from him. For the duration of the book up until just the very last few verses, Job’s suffering is profound. But so too is his faith. Through it all — loss of family, loss of fortune, painful boils, insomnia — Job’s faith is never shaken. Through it all, Job continues to declare the goodness of God.

The story of suffering is not unique. Not in scripture, or in modern life. We see terrible, horrible things happen each and every day. And many times it can be truly difficult to reconcile “why?”

Why would God allow disease? Why would God allow death? Why would God allow hunger and sickness and general misery?

And none of us is a stranger to this line of inquiry. We’ve all either asked ourselves why God would allow these things, or we’ve been confronted by a non-believer regarding the existence of God, or His innate goodness as a result. And many times believers, just like non-believers, grope around in the dark, unable to find an answer to this fundamental question.

The answer, though, is simple, and one that Spafford seemed to understand as well as Job had — God is completely sovereign over all things, and His perfect will is just that, perfect. Job understood, as did Spafford that God’s will isn’t always clear to us, and it isn’t always what we’re expecting or desiring, but it is always right and perfect and exactly where you want to be.

In life it’s easy for us to see those moments and be broken by them. To spend time dwelling on the pain and suffering of this life. But as believers we have hope and a future (Jeremiah 29:11) and we can look forward to what is to come.

No matter the pain, no matter the suffering, what God has provided for us on the other side is infinitely better than any pain free life on Earth ever could be. Spafford recognized this, and it’s what gave him the comfort he needed to, in the face of tragedy, write those beautiful stanzas affirming the goodness of God.

Isaiah 40:31 tells us “They who wait on the Lord shall renew their strength; They shall mount up with wings like eagles; they shall run and not be weary; they shall walk and not faint.” So have faith, believer. The trials of this life are short and insignificant compared to the glory that awaits you on the other side. If you’re facing a season of suffering, don’t let it steal your faith. Press into God more than ever before, and rest on His perfect promises.

Scripture Reading

Job 38-41, Isaiah 40, Psalm 145:1-7

Lyrics

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 know
It is well, it is well, with my soul.

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 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 the faith shall be sight,
The clouds be rolled back as a scroll;
The trump shall resound, and the Lord shall descend,
A song in the night, oh my soul