The Hymn That Cost Everything

In 1873, Horatio Spafford stood on the deck of a ship crossing the Atlantic, passing over the very waters where his four daughters had drowned just days earlier. His wife Anna had survived the shipwreck of the SS Ville du Havre and sent him a telegram with two devastating words: "Saved alone." As Spafford sailed to meet her, the captain notified him when they reached the spot where the ship had gone down. Standing at the rail, gazing into the waves that had swallowed his children, Spafford reached for a pen and wrote words that have carried grieving believers for over a century: "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."

That hymn was not written from comfort. It was written from the deepest sacrifice a parent can know — the surrender of his children and, harder still, the surrender of his own understanding of why God allowed it.

Spafford did not say it felt good. He said it was well. There is a difference. Sacrifice rarely feels right in the moment. Abraham climbing Moriah did not feel peace. Jesus in Gethsemane sweat blood. But each one laid down what they treasured most and trusted the Almighty with what they could not see.

The sacrifices God asks of us may never become hymns. But every time we release what we grip most tightly, we join a chorus that has been singing since Abraham — the chorus of those who trust that the Lord gives, the Lord takes away, and He remains worthy of our praise.