Horatio Spafford: It Is Well With My Soul (The True Story)

A man stands at the railing of a ship in the middle of the Atlantic late at night. A few weeks ago he had four daughters, Annie, Margaret, Bessie, and little Tanetta who was only two. Now the captain has come to find him with the words no father should ever have to hear. "Sir, this is the place. We are passing over the spot where your daughters went down."

This is the story of Horatio Spafford, a Chicago lawyer who had already lost a son and a fortune, whose wife Anna sent the telegram from Wales that read simply "Saved alone." Crossing the ocean to reach her, he reached for a pen above the dark water and wrote not a complaint but a song. It is well with my soul.

"The Lord is near to those who have a broken heart, and saves such as have a contrite spirit.", Psalm 34:18

Whatever you are carrying today, whatever loss has left you standing at the railing in the dark, He is closer than your next breath. One day He will make it well.

And that, friend, is how God lifts up your day.

- Pastor Rodney Coe

Transcript

0:00

A man stands at the railing of a ship in the middle of the Atlantic. Late at night, the cold spray stinging his face. A few weeks ago he had four daughters, Annie, Margaret, Bessie, and little Tanetta, who was only two years old. Now the captain has come to find him with quiet words no father should ever have to hear. Sir, this is the place. We are passing over the spot where your daughters went down. The man does not collapse, he does not shake his fist at the sky, he stands there above the dark water where his little girls are sleeping, and he reaches for a pen. Stay with me. You'll want to hear how this one ends. Welcome to Lift Up Your Day, a daily five-minute devotional, short stories with a biblical heartbeat. I'm Rodney Coe, and today A Grieving Father, a Midnight Ocean, and the song he wrote in the worst hour of his life. His name was Horatio Spafford, a successful lawyer in Chicago, a devoted believer, and a close friend of the great evangelist D.O. Moody. By every measure he was a man who had it all, and then piece by piece, he lost nearly all of it. First his young son died, then the great Chicago fire of 1871 swept through the city and wiped out almost everything Horatio had invested. In the fall of 1873, weary and grieving, the family planned a trip to Europe to rest and to help Moody with a coming campaign. At the last minute a business matter held Horatio back, so he sent his wife Anna and their four daughters on ahead, promising to follow in just a few days. He kissed them goodbye at the dock and watched their ship sail east. In the dark, early hours of november the twenty second, far out on the Atlantic Ocean, their ship collided with another vessel. In only twelve minutes it slipped beneath the waves. More than two hundred people drowned that night. Anna was pulled from the water alive. All four of their little girls were gone. When Anna reached land in whales, she sent her husband a telegram, just two words saved alone. Horatio boarded the very next ship to go to her, and somewhere in the middle of that crossing the captain called him over and told him as gently as he could that they were now passing near the place where the ship had gone down, the place where his daughters were sleeping beneath the sea. It was there, in the worst hour of his life, that Horatio Spafford took out a pen and began to write. Not a complaint, not a curse. He wrote about a peace that can still flow like a river, even when sorrow rolls in like the waves of the ocean. And he wrote the words that would outlast his grief and travel all the way around the world. It is well with my soul. That song born over the water that had taken his children has been sung at more funerals and more bedsides than almost any hymn ever written. A heartbroken father wrote a lullaby of peace over the place where his daughter slept, and the church has never once stopped singing it. How does this man write the words it is well while sailing over his own children's grave? There is only one way. He was not pretending the wound did not hurt. He was leaning on a God who was right there in the water with him. A psalmist promised it long ago, the Lord is near to those who have a broken heart, and saves such as have a contrite spirit. Near, not distant, not standing back waiting for you to pull yourself together near, especially when your heart is in pieces. So whatever you are carrying today, whatever losses left you standing at the railing in the dark, hear this. He is closer than your next breath, and one day he will make it well. Until that day, you do not have to grieve alone. And that, friend, is how God lifts up your day.