Sunday Stuff

Greg Smalley was a guest speaker at my church today.
One of the things he was using as an illustration about how God uses us beyond the scope of our understanding, was the life of Horatio Gates Spafford. If you sort of think that sounds familiar but can’t quite pinpoint why, maybe you know a little of the story.

Horatio was a prominent lawyer in Chicago who was notorious for giving back to his city with time, money, and effort to enhance the world his five children were growing up in.
Then tragedy struck… there was a huge fire that killed over 300 of the city’s residents and left more than 100,000 homeless. Being one of the people who had so much invested in the city, he lost everything, too …his life’s savings, his home, his only son.
After working tirelessly to try to help others rebuild their lives as well as his own, he and his wife decided they should get away for awhile and visit family and friends to regroup and think about how best to move their family forward. A matter of business delayed him and not wanting to spoil the trip, he sent his wife and four daughters along first… thinking that he’d follow soon after.
Their ship never made it to the other side of the ocean. It collided with another ship and sunk in the span of 20 minutes taking several hundred lives to the bottom of the sea.
Horatio was given the news of the accident and had no way of knowing what the fate of his family was until he received a telegram from his wife containing only two grievous words: “saved alone”. He’d lost all four daughters.
Having no idea what state of mind he’d find his grieving wife in, he set off as soon as he could to join her in England.
Standing on the bow of the ship in the early morning hours, chilled to the bone by the season and the freezing ocean spray he was approached by the captain of the ship who told him, “I don’t know if you’d want to know but I feel compelled to tell you, the spot where we are right now is where the accident happened when your girls were taken.”
The outcome of the depths of his grief was the hymn that he wrote: It Is Well With My Soul

If you’re wondering what the connection between a fire in 1871 and the current day is, I’m getting there.
It turns out that a couple months ago, Mr. Smalley was giving a seminar someplace in small town USA and he was telling the audience that this song happened to be his favorite hymn. He noticed a man sitting in the front row with tears streaming down his face and just assumed he must have been touched by the story of the song’s author. After the seminar, that man sought out Mr. Smalley to shake his hand and what follows is what that man said to him:

“It’s important for me to let you know that mentioning that song was no accident today. One of the reasons I’m here today to listen to you is because of that song. I, too, lost a child and it devastated me. I didn’t deal well with my grief. I became angry and bitter and turned on everyone in my life. I lost my wife. I lost my job. I lost my home. I lost friends. I lost everything. I knew there was only one thing left to do, so I picked up my keys and got into my car. I left the garage door down as I turned over the ignition. When I did, the radio came on and what I heard was someone relating the story of this Horatio guy who had things even worse than me. When I realized that in all his pain he chose to accept God’s will and move forward, I felt incredibly selfish and knew that I wanted to be the kind of man he was instead. When they started to play the song, I recognized it. I’ve probably heard it many times and sang it in church, but this time was the first time I really *heard* it. I reached up and hit the garage door opener button to raise the door.”

I bet Horatio never thought in all his grief that God would be using him to help a man deal with his own pain well over a hundred years into the future. What legacy are you leaving? How will your walk help someone who travels your path after you?

When peace like a river attendeth my way
When sorrows like sea billows roll
What ever my lot you have taught me to say
It is well, it is well with my soul

Though the devil will ruin, though trials may come
Let this blessed assurance control
That Christ has regarded my helpless estate
And He shed His own blood for my soul

It is well, with my soul
It is well, it is well with 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, oh my soul

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

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

And Lord haste the day when my faith shall be sight
And 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

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

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