Mtr Mary Trainor
Whatever my lot, thou hast taught me to say
It is well, it is well, with my soul...
Dear friend,
When Horatio Spafford boarded a ship for England in 1873, it was not a joyous occasion. Crossing the Atlantic was still fraught with risk. And didn’t he know it. Spafford was on his way to meet his wife, but under different circumstances than planned. Anna and their four daughters had gone ahead of him, but their ship wrecked. More than 200 people died, including all four daughters.
Upon arrival in England, Anna sent a telegram: “Saved alone. What shall I do?”
Spafford set out immediately. At one point in the voyage, the ship’s captain summoned him as they passed over the spot where the shipwreck had occurred and his four daughters perished.
As he looked out on the roiling sea, Spafford found the peace that passes understanding. Words flooded his heart and he wrote them down. They became the well-loved hymn, “It is Well With My Soul.”*
When peace like a river, attendeth my way,
When sorrows like sea billows roll…
I am reminded of a different father, one we find in our Gospel passage today from Mark (9:14-29.) This father is desperate for his son to be healed. Jesus has just returned from the mountaintop transfiguration, when a bickering crowd spots him and heads his way. A man cries out, hoping Jesus can cast out the demon that possesses his son.
Though Satan should buffet, though trials should come,
Let this blest assurance control...
“All things can be done for the one who believes,” Jesus tells the father, who responds, “I believe; help my unbelief!” Jesus rids the boy of the demon.
I believe. Help my unbelief. These words, for me, are the yin and yang of prayer, the two-sided coin of my own faith, maybe yours. But I have come to trust that God’s love overcomes a back-and-forth faith, for even as the father cries out, “Help my unbelief,” Jesus is at work.
For me, be it Christ, be it Christ hence to live: If Jordan above me shall roll,
No pain shall be mine, for in death as in life Thou wilt whisper Thy peace to my soul...
I suspect Horatio Spafford knew all about the question of unbelief in the context of horrific loss. Losing four daughters was staggering, but it wasn’t the only loss Spafford endured in a short period of time. He had already endured the loss of a son to scarlet fever, and near-financial devastation resulting from the 1871 Great Chicago Fire.
Thankfully, loss wasn’t all he knew. Looking out over the mighty Atlantic, even at the place where his daughters had died, Spafford grasped a sense of the eternal. Perhaps, even, a glimpse of God.
Whatever my lot, thou hast taught me to say
It is well, it is well, with my soul...
Mtr. Mary
* I was inspired this week by a Facebook post in which a group of Nashville studio singers performed this moving hymn, each on their cell phone. The voices were sent to a producer, who put them all together. Here it is. Enjoy.