On Monday, I mentioned that in church we had sung, “It is well with my soul,” and I didn’t have time to tell the story behind that song for me. Here is a brief version:
Peggy and I became friends in a small group couples’ Bible study. Since her husband often travelled, and my husband, a resident, worked many Sundays, we often sat together in church. I loved standing next to Peggy, tall, lovely songbird, listening to her strong high voice. She told me, “It is well” was her favorite hymn, though I can’t remember why.

Then, one day, Peggy was murdered. In her driveway, one night after coming home from work. It made no sense. Everyone loved Peggy. Her murderers didn’t even know her. Our pastor preached a powerful sermon that has helped me through other inexplicably bizarre stories. He said, “The question is not ‘why’ but ‘who’.”

Back to the hymn. In that season, I listened to this song over and over. I could hear Peggy singing it in my head. I never came to understand Peggy’s death. But I did come slowly, slowly to be able to say, “Whatever my lot, thou hast taught me to say, ‘It is well with my soul.'”

Sunday began a week of praying and waiting for stories of major trials in three people whom I dearly love. When we sang, “It is well,” I knew it was God’s way of reminding me of his steadfast goodness. When we sang the chorus, the men led out, “It is well,” and the women sweetly echoed, “it is well….” In that lovely chorus of women’s voices, I thought I could just hear Peggy’s, singing from heaven, telling me, “It is truly well with my soul.” 

I’ve copied the words below for you to read and consider. May you know God’s love in the midst of difficult circumstances today.

1. 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.
   • Refrain:
     It is well, with my soul,
     It is well, it is well, with my soul.
2. 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.
3. 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!
4. 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.
5. 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!
6. 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.