Media Monday: (Not) Well With My Soul
In church this past Sunday we sang, “It Is Well With My Soul,” by Horatio Spafford. It was penned during his long journey across the Atlantic to reunite with the only member left of his family – after a fire, the unfortunate economic downturn of the 1870’s, and a sunken ship containing his daughters – took nearly all he held dear, minus his Jesus and his wife.
And . . . .
I. Am. Not. There.
When I ponder this song, and its words . . . I find myself seriously struggling to embrace the contentment and the validity of the words in this powerful song by this steadfast man. He’s a rock.
It Is Well With My Soul
When peace like a river, attendeth my way,
When sorrows like sea billows roll;
Whatever my lot, Thou hast taught me to know,
It is well, it is well, with my soul.
It is well, (it is well),
With my soul, (with my soul)
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!
For me, be it Christ, be it Christ hence to live:
If Jordan above me shall roll,
No pang shall be mine, for in death as in life,
Thou wilt whisper Thy peace to my soul.
But Lord, ’tis for Thee, for Thy coming we wait,
The sky, not the grave, is our goal;
Oh, trump of the angel! Oh, voice of the Lord!
Blessed hope, blessed rest of 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,
A song in the night, oh my soul!
I challenge you to truly reflect on it now. (Once again, if you do not see the YouTube video, please click here to watch it on YouTube – but you better come back to keep reading. Because if you have been missing my realness, I’m about to unload.)
Is it well with your soul? Are you doing the boot-scooting-buggy about your sins being taken away and the loud band playing? Does your soul have a peace . . . a joy?
I have been very quiet. Sure I have spoken about a new book, shared my thoughts on various products, but that Jodi – that girl who used to barf all over the blog – she hasn’t shown up in awhile.
Because it’s hard to. Vulnerability has a cost.
I have no desire to share all the gritty details with what is going on within the walls of our home, but I will say — I am beginning to be acquainted with altered plans. With being on the receiving end of help, instead of helping others. Bumping elbows with disappointment and humility. Being confronted with the stark reality that while I thought I knew a lot about health, there are others who know more.
As Thanksgiving and Christmas draw near, for the first time . . . I find myself dragging my feet. For the first time in years, I am pre-baby weight, but I long to stay at home where it is easy. Yet, when I am forced to stay at home (like this Thanksgiving), it also feels like I have punched in the gut. Locked up in a jail cell.
Illness can make you feel like a leper. Disease can make you feel like the annoying nerd with dirty glasses, with her polo buttoned to the collar.
I have found myself angry . . . so angry with the Lord.
I have avoided my Bible study.
Yet my favorite pens draw me in. And so I go back to the one thing that I know. The Word.
I write. I #writetheword. Because it is true.
I have set my will. I’m going to embrace the story of the birth of my Savior. I’m going to leave a Christmas legacy with writing out the birth of Jesus.
Even though Christmas is an arbitrary day – certainly NOT the exact day that Jesus was born, I want to take this rather un-Christian holiday and make it into something meaningful, contemplative, and life changing for my children.
For myself. For the Engineer.
I desperately want to experience the Christmas Miracle. Not feel it. But know that I know that I know that I know. . . HIM.
Jesus. Messiah. Emmanuel. God with us.