2284) Bodies are in Danger, Souls Can be Okay

“It Can Be Well with Our Souls, Even with the Coronavirus Crisis” by Randy Alcorn, posted March 30, 2020 at:  http://www.epm.org


     This classic hymn, sung in this Age of Corona by a ‘virtual cell phone choir,’ was posted a few days ago.  It is beautiful.  It demonstrates separation but the wondrous ability to transcend it.  Technology isn’t always the answer, but in this case it is truly a gift of God.  Here is “It Is Well with My Soul” from a cell phone choir:


https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nDIJz6zzHNU&feature=youtu.be&mc_cid=923c38f276&mc_eid=7a61505e6c  )


     Either before or after you listen to the song—or maybe both, listen to it twice as I just did—consider the history behind the song “It Is Well with My Soul.” I wrote about it in my book If God Is Good:

     Horatio Spafford, a prosperous lawyer, real estate investor, and devout Presbyterian elder, lived comfortably in Chicago with his wife, Anna, and their children.

     The year of 1871 was a difficult one for the Spaffords.  Much of Horatio’s real estate investments disappeared in the great Chicago Fire.  Not long after, they lost their 4-year-old son to scarlet fever.  But worse still was to come.

     Knowing that his friend D. L. Moody would preach in England in 1873, Spafford’s family decided to vacation in Europe.  Last-minute business detained Horatio, so Anna and their four girls sailed on the ocean liner S.S. Ville du Havre.  En route, a British vessel rammed the ship, and it sank within minutes.  Rescuers picked up an unconscious Anna on a floating spar, but all four daughters drowned.  When Anna arrived in England, she sent a telegram to Horatio with the words, “Saved alone.”

     Horatio immediately left Chicago to bring his wife home.  On the Atlantic crossing, the captain called Horatio to his cabin to tell him that they had nearly reached the spot where his four daughters had perished.  As he passed over their watery grave, Spafford wrote a hymn of profound depth that has touched millions:  “It Is Well with My Soul.”

     He later wrote to Anna’s half-sister, “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 in the arms of Jesus, the dear lambs.”

     The pain was great, but God’s grace rose to the occasion.  Despite his heartbreak, Spafford could say without pretense, “It is well with my soul.”

     Only God can perform such a miracle of grace.  And that kind of miracle is available to us all.

     Knowing the story, listen to that song again, and it will be even more amazing than before.


III John 1:2  —  Beloved, I pray that all may go well with you and that you may be in health; I know that it is well with your soul.

Psalm 42:11  —  Why are you cast down, O my soul, and why are you disquieted within me?  Hope in God; for I shall again praise him, my help and my God.

Psalm 62:5-6  —  For God alone my soul waits in silence, for my hope is from him.  He only is my rock and my salvation, my fortress; I shall not be shaken.

Psalm 94:19  —  When the cares of my heart are many, thy consolations cheer my soul.

Psalm 116:7  —  Return to your rest, my soul, for the Lord has been good to you.

Psalm 131  — 

Lord, my heart is not lifted up,
    my eyes are not raised too high;
I do not occupy myself with things
    too great and too marvelous for me.

But I have calmed and quieted my soul,
    like a child quieted at its mother’s breast;
    like a child that is quieted is my soul.

O Israel, hope in the Lord
    from this time forth and for evermore.

Psalm 146:1  —  Praise the Lord.  Praise the Lord, O my soul.



By Horatio Spafford

When peace like a river, attendeth my way,
When sorrows like sea billows roll
Whatever my lot, thou hast taught me to say
REFRAIN:  It is well, it is well, with my soul
It is well, 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.  REFRAIN
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.  REFRAIN