The Melody of my Grief

In fragile grief moments, I find it best to be alone.

To weep. To think. To remember. To pray. To just “be”.

And when nothing else seems to release the emotional pressure building up inside my heart, the Lord sends a song. Music is the safety valve to my sadness. While I don’t understand the mystery that connects a sound wave to my soul, I know it’s real because I’ve experienced it.

Where words fail, music speaks. But take a profound word joined with a beautiful melody and it creates really extra powerful stuff.

One song in particular that has been a lifeline for me is an old hymn by a gentleman named Horatio Spafford, titled “When Peace Like A River”, though it’s more widely recognized as “It Is Well”. The abridged story behind the song goes like this:

He lost many of his investments in the Great Chicago Fire of 1871.
His wife’s health took a turn for the worse, so he thought a European cruise would be therapeutic for their family.
He arranged for his beloved Anna and their four children to travel to England to connect with their dear friend Dwight L. Moody, but a last minute business situation came up, so he sent them on ahead, planning to join them a little later.
Disaster struck again when the ship encountered a terrible storm, dragging all 307 passengers into the water. Anna was one of the 81 survivors. All four of their children drowned.
When Horatio heard news of the unthinkable tragedy, he immediately boarded a ship to reunite with Anna. As he was passing over the ocean at the site of the wreck, the words to this hymn flowed into his heart and mind.

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.”

Though Satan should buffet,
Though trials should come,
Lest this blest assurance control:
That Christ has regarded my helpless estate,
And has shed his own blood for my soul.

My sin, O 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 my 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.

These beautiful melodic words are salve to my hurting heart. They draw my attention to Jesus, the One for whom these lyrics were written. They remind me that whatever my circumstances hold, I can declare that my soul is well, because Jesus has ultimately and forever rescued me. So now, even in my deep sadness, I can have hope. And peace. And reassurance that one day all things will be made well.

It’s also sobering to think that some day my children will face trials of their own. It’s my earnest prayer that they will know the great love and peace and hope that Jesus gives in our suffering.

At nighttime when we sing before bed, Caleb’s most requested song has become “It Is Well”. It’s nearly impossible to keep my composure when I hear his squeaky, off-key, two-year-old voice sing these words back to God. And, oh, how I pray that he hides this song in his heart and one day truly understands and believes its significance. (This video was taken while singing in the dark before bedtime. Sorry not sorry. May need to turn the volume up just a bit.)