The Hymn That Was Born in the Dark

In 1871, Horatio Spafford lost nearly everything in the Great Chicago Fire. Two years later, he sent his wife and four daughters ahead on a ship to England. The vessel collided with another ship in the Atlantic, and all four of his daughters drowned. His wife survived and sent him a two-word telegram: "Saved alone."

Spafford boarded the next available ship. When the captain notified him they were passing over the spot where his daughters had perished, Spafford went to his cabin and wrote words that still echo through sanctuaries today: "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 is not denial. That is courage.

Courage is not the absence of grief. It is the decision to open your mouth and sing when every nerve in your body wants to scream. Spafford did not pretend the ocean beneath him held no horror. He looked directly into the deepest water of his suffering and declared that the Almighty was still sovereign over it.

Some of you are sailing over your own dark waters right now. The bravest thing you may ever do is not to fight, not to flee, but to say through clenched teeth and tear-filled eyes, "It is well with my soul." That is faith with its back against the wall — and it is the kind of courage that moves the heart of God.