It Is Well...

It's already been a week... and... it's only been a week since we lost Grandma. It's hard to wrap my mind around that. It is easy for me to kind of ignore the emotions, because Grandma wasn't part of our daily life. I can teach the kids, clean the house, make supper and live in ignorance. But Grandpa walks into his condo, and looks at her empty bed. Grandpa can sit next to that bed, but there is no hand to hold, no arm to rub. He doesn't have to try and get her to eat, he can't listen to her quietly breath as she sleeps, the quietness is deafening.

Most of us are not immune to heartache. All of us have experienced pain and trials in our life. Some pain we saw coming, like Grandma's death, and some pain blindsides us. It is how we live through those trials and pain that intrigue me.

Some of us walk gracefully though life's trials, like Grandma. Grandma has been in pain for years, and I honestly don't remember a time that she complained about it. She has been pretty much in bed or laying on the couch for the last several years, but I never heard her say that she wished she could get up and walk on her own again. She lost a lot of her eyesight and I did hear her say she wished she could see again, but that was when she was trying to see one of her great-grandchildren. She had a faith that no matter what came her way she would say "it is well with my soul."

A faith like that is a gift from God. Some of us can really struggle to see God's hand in the hard times of life. Some of us have a harder time being at peace when storms are ripping your life apart. But even though Grandma would struggle with those storms it was easier for her to go from... I don't understand this God, to, I will trust you even in this. It was a beautiful gift to have.

There was another man who had this great gift. His name was Horatio Spafford. He was a lawyer in Chicago. He had 4 daughters and a son. His son died. He invested heavily in real estate along the lakeshore in Chicago. Then the great fire of 1871 happened and he lost most of his holdings. Two years later he, his wife, and 4 daughters were going to take a trip to Europe. Last minute business dealings kept him in town, but he sent his wife and daughters on without him. He would travel a few days later and meet up with them. The ship his family was on was struck by and English vessel and it sunk within minutes of the crash. He received a cable from his wife, "saved alone." He boarded a ship on his way to where his beloved four daughters had drowned, as he neared the spot, the Holy Spirit impressed on him to pen his grief, he started to write... "When sorrows like sea billows roll..." Thus the hymn "It is Well with My Soul" was born.

We sang it at Grandma's funeral. I should say others sang it at Grandma's funeral. I had a hard time squeaking out anything that even remotely sounded like music. Like Horatio, Grandma didn't choose to dwell on the sorrow of life, but said...

When peace, like a river, attendeth my way, when sorrows like sea billows roll; Whatever my lot, thou has taught me to say, 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!

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.

amen...