If this man, Horatio G. Spafford could still have faith after such a tragedy- losing all of his children, then Lord, please grant me the same faith in my small simple life.
After his four daughters drowned he wrote this beautiful hymn- one of my favorites.
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, tho 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 tho't:
My sin not in part, but the whole
Is nail'd to the cross and I bear it no more,
Praise the Lord, praise the Lord, O my soul!
And, Lord, haste the day when the faith shall be sight,
The clouds be roll'd back as a scroll,
The trump shall re-sound 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.
Horatio's Story
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