It is Well

Two years. It's hard to believe it's been two years today since my mom passed away. It's one of those things that feels like it happened a million years ago, and yesterday, at the same time. I still miss her. Just the other night I was driving back to my house and I suddenly had the urge to pick up the phone and call her. Whenever I was in the car it was a good time to call mom and catch up, but I can't do that anymore, and it's strange when that hits me. I'm still learning this new "normal."

I spent some time this morning reflecting on how I feel and all the work God has done in my heart over the past two (plus) years, and I was reminded of a hymn. "It is Well with My Soul" was written by Horatio Spafford after he experienced tremendous loss in his life. He and his wife had five children: one son and four daughters. At the age of four, his only son developed scarlet fever and passed away. A year later, Spafford lost all of his estate and life savings in the great Chicago Fire. Two years following these trials, he and his wife and four daughters planned to take a holiday in Europe. Spafford was detained for a few days by business, but sent his family ahead of him. While at sea, there was an accident and the boat that Mrs. Spafford and her daughters were on sank quickly, leaving her as the lone survivor among her family. On his way to Europe to bring his wife home, Spafford passed over the very spot where the accident occurred, and where his four daughters died. It was here at sea that he wrote the words to this hymn:

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.

What an incredible loss; another Job of sorts. He wrote those words from a heart full of grief, but also full of hope in Christ. I can understand Spafford's broken heart, but I haven't always been able to understand how he could say those words. This hymn has a history in my story as well. Two and a half years ago, my mom was diagnosed with cancer and underwent a major operation (called the Whipple procedure) to remove the cancerous part of her pancreas. While she was in the hospital, it was my responsibility to check in on my grandma who lived 5 minutes down the road. She was a very independent and spunky woman (and still is!), but my mom was concerned that she wouldn't handle her being in the hospital very well.

Two days after the surgery, I went over to pick my grandmother up to take her to visit my mom at the hospital. I knocked on the door, but no one answered. I called her phone, and she didn't pick up. Right away I knew something was wrong, so I ran around to her bedroom window and peeked inside to see her stumbling around confused, hair disheveled, with one shoe missing. I had no key to her house with me, and yelled for her to go to the front door and let me in. And then I called 911. The paramedics arrived and we finally got into the house. They could tell me right away that my grandmother suffered a stroke and needed to be rushed to the emergency room. I told them that my mom was already in the hospital and to take her there, and I would follow behind. But they told me there was no room for her at that hospital, and they needed to take her to another one.

So here I was alone in Ft. Myers with my mom in the ICU of one hospital and my grandmother in the ICU of another. My mom was unconscious and my grandmother drifting in and out. I spent the night (and the next 3 weeks) driving from one hospital to the other. I have never felt so alone and so small as I did that first night.

After what seemed like the longest day and night of my entire life, I left the hospital to return to an empty house. "Empty" doesn't even begin to describe what it felt like. It must have been midnight as I lay crying on the floor, literally crying my heart out. I received a phone call, and as this person tried to console and comfort my broken heart, he reminded me of this hymn. I remember how much those words hurt in that moment, because I couldn't honestly say them. I yelled, "But it is NOT well with my soul!" And it wasn't.

I looked back in my journal today of what I recorded the following morning. I cried out to God, "I can't spend much time with you now, though I need it. My soul needs you...It's not well with my soul right now. Be my strength, because I have none. Let it be well with my soul, Lord."

So much has happened since I wrote those words. A lot of hard and painful things. It has taken years to reach a point in my life where I am able to say, though most often with tears, that it is well with my soul. What I've learned is that circumstances don't have to be agreeable, life doesn't have to be easy, in order to be able to say with confidence, "It is well with my soul." Why? because Christ "hath shed His own blood for my soul." That fact always remains true. No matter what the circumstances may be, Christ never changes. My soul rejoices; not because things are 'all better,' because they aren't. I still very much miss my mom and have many things to work through. But the hope I have, I have in Christ. And today, because of this, I can say It is well with my soul.