In late 1873, a heartbroken father stood on the deck of a ship gazing out to sea at the site of the disaster that had tragically claimed the lives of all four of his daughters. This was only two years after he had lost his son and his business. Now this.
Horatio Spafford was a lawyer and real estate investor who had seen great success. He had an amazing wife and beloved children. He had a lucrative business. But his successful life began to unravel in 1871 when his 4-year-old son contracted and succumbed to scarlet fever. It was a tragedy no parent should have to go through, having to bury their own son. But things would get worse. The Great Chicago Fire tore through the city, leaving large swathes of it in charred ruins. Shortly after losing his son, his successful business was quite literally up in smoke. In the face of such unimaginable loss, he could not know that even worse tragedy was on its way.
 |
| The Sinking of the Steamship Ville du Havre Currier & Ives, 1873 Hand-colored lithograph Image courtesy of Springfield Museums Used with permission |
Horatio and his wife Anna were devastated. The stress of raising children and rebuilding a business in the face of such unspeakable loss was heartrending. They decided that they needed a change of scene. A vacation to England would be just the thing. Horatio was detained by unexpected business obligations, so he saw his wife and four daughters off as they boarded the SS Ville du Havre, bound for England. He would take another ship and join them soon.
November 21, 1873 was a day that would shatter their lives, literally and figuratively. Over the Atlantic Ocean, the Ville du Havre collided with the Scottish iron-hulled ship Loch Earn. Anna Spafford gathered her four young daughters on the deck and they desperately prayed to be spared, or to be able to endure what was to come. The ship sank in 12 minutes. Over 200 lives were lost that day.
A few days later, Horatio received a telegram from Cardiff, Wales that began:
Saved alone. What shall I do?
A sailor on a small boat had spotted a woman floating on a piece of wreckage and pulled her aboard. They were then picked up by a larger boat bound for Cardiff. As soon as Anna arrived, she telegrammed her husband back in Chicago. Anna told another survivor of the Ville du Havre, "God gave me four daughters. Now they have been taken from me. Someday I will understand why."
 |
| Horatio and Anna Spafford's daughters |
Gutted, Horatio booked the next available ship to Wales. The captain was aware of Spafford's tragedy and brought him out to the deck as they reached the site of the collision. As he looked out to sea and thought about his daughters, he was filled with a mixture of grief, comfort and peace. His emotions flowed on paper as he wrote the words that came to him to comfort in this horrible tragedy:
When peace like a river, attendeth my way,
When sorrows like sea billows roll—
Whatever my lot, thou hast taught me to know,
It is well, it is well with my soul.
As the waves buffeted the ship back and forth, he wrote on:
Though Satan should buffet, though trials should come
Let this blest assurance control
That Christ hath regarded my helpless estate
And hath shed his own blood for my soul.
Some of this is speculation on my part, but having gone through tragedies of my own, I know we are often plagued by the "what ifs" of life. What if they had stayed home? What if he had gone with them and could have protected them? What if he had committed some sin God was punishing him for? At their hour of greatest need, he was miles away, helplessly and ignorantly unable to help. Rational or not, I know my mind has gone to places like that, and I'm sure his did as well, particularly in light of his poem.
My sin—oh the bliss of this glorious thought—
My sin, not in part, but the whole,
Is nailed to His cross, & I bear it no more;
Praise the Lord, praise the Lord, Oh my soul.
As he pondered, prayed, and agonized, it helped to remind himself that this was in God's hands, and God would bring him through it. Whatever sins he may have committed, whether or not they contributed to the tragedy, were forgiven and atoned on the cross. But even so, he missed his son and daughters horribly, and couldn't wait to see them again someday in heaven.
And Lord, haste the day when the faith shall be sight
The clouds be rolled back as a scroll—
The trump shall resound, & the Lord shall descend—
A song in the night, Oh my soul!
The above poem is from the original manuscript, which you can see here. A few words have been changed over the years for the hymn that we have grown up singing, but it is mostly intact. The biggest change I see is the last line. He would also write,
"On Thursday last we passed over the spot where she went down in mid-ocean, the water three miles deep. But I do not think of our dear ones there. They are safe, folded, the dear lambs, and there, before very long, shall we be too. In the meantime, thanks to God, we have an opportunity to serve and praise Him for His love and mercy to us and ours. I will praise Him while I have my being. May we each one arise, leave all, and follow Him."
.jpg){kind=spacer} |
Naufrage du paquebot transatlantique la Ville-du-Havre. L'arrière du navire est encore au-dessus des flots, et le Loch-Earn envoie ses embarcations pour sauver les naufragés. Translation: Shipwreck of the transatlantic liner the Ville du Havre. The back of the ship is still above the waves, and the Loch Earn sends its small boats to save the shipwrecked. Artwork by Évremond de Bérard in Le Monde illustré, December 13, 1873 based on information taken in Le Havre, France and a sketch by M.G. Roullet Public Domain |
After returning home, their friends rallied around them. Among those friends was Phillip Bliss, who was gifted in music and was so moved by Spafford's poem that he set it to music. It has comforted and moved generations ever since.
Following the tragedy, the Spaffords had three more children, losing another son to pneumonia. They would eventually move to Jerusalem. His "faith became sight" in 1888, when he passed away and was buried there.
This hymn has been special for me, particularly when I learned as a child that I was born on the anniversary of the shipwreck that inspired it. The first time I heard the story behind it was on the radio. We sang the song growing up, and hearing the story moved me. But now, it means more to me than ever.
In 2019, I took my parents on an errand to Bellingham, Washington, about a 2-hour drive north of us. On the way home, I could feel myself getting drowsy and pulled into a rest stop so I could get coffee and stretch my legs. But just as we were on the freeway exit into the rest stop, I dozed off momentarily. The car veered off the road into the grass, taking out a road sign as I desperately tried to regain control. The car went neatly between trees and slammed into another tree, momentarily going airborne and landing perpendicular from where it had hit the tree. (I'm hearing the crashes and feeling the shock again just typing this.) The airbags deployed. My dad found my glasses on the ground outside the passenger door. I was badly bruised. My parents were injured worse. My brother Tim, who was at work at the time, immediately left work and rushed to the hospital where we were taken. I was in the hospital a few hours, and my dad was in a bit longer. After nine days in the hospital, my mom had to spend a few weeks in rehab. I did a sleep study and CT scan to determine if there were any sleep or brain issues. (On one visit to the neurologist, I joked that I had to have my head examined.) There were no brain issues, but I was diagnosed with sleep apnea. While my glasses were thankfully intact, I got a new pair that wouldn't come off as easily. I went through terrible feelings of guilt and "what ifs"... What if I had pulled off the freeway sooner? What if I had stayed alert for five more minutes? On the other hand, what if we had been on a bridge over a river when it happened, which would have been worse? So many "what ifs"! My family and friends had to reassure me over and over that it wasn't my fault, and the feelings of guilt were not helpful. After I had worked through that, a well-meaning friend asked me if I was feeling guilt about it and offered unsolicited advice—but by that point, her efforts were a bit counterproductive as it revived it a bit. Never assume what someone is feeling when they are grieving. You could be reawakening things they've already worked through and don't need to be reminded.
In mid-November 2021, my dad was in the family room watching football. I thought it was a bit odd that he was still sitting there at midnight, which was not like him, but I told him I was going to bed. He offered to turn the TV down, but I assured him the volume was fine. About 3 and a half hours later, my mom woke me. She was in tears. My dad was still sitting in front of the TV, but the screen saver had come on, and when she asked him questions, his answers didn't make sense. I got up and went in and talked to him. Most of his answers to my questions also didn't make sense. At one point I commented that we were very worried, and he said, "I can see that." He didn't want us to call 911, because he was afraid they would ask him questions and he wouldn't know what to tell them. We finally decided to call 911 anyway, and paramedics rushed to the house. At the hospital, he was diagnosed with a hemorrhagic stroke, which involves bleeding in the brain, and eventually transferred to another hospital a bit farther away that was better equipped to help. While he was in the hospital, their COVID guidelines only allowed for one designated visitor throughout the stay. My mom was the obvious choice, so Tim and I waited in the parking lot while our mom visited him nearly daily. His condition was up and down. Due to COVID, I was working from home, so one day while I was working, Tim took my mom. They made the painful decision to move him to comfort care, as all attempts at getting food into him were failing, and the only other option had the potential of doing more harm than good. Tim called me and told me they were coming home to get me. I alerted my manager that I had to go, and once they arrived, we returned to the hospital. Since he was on comfort care, the one-guest rule didn't apply, so we went up. I had some things I needed to discuss with my dad, and I wish I could have discussed them with him when he was coherent. But I was able to tell him, clear some things up, and get some closure. He was clearly in pain, and was unable to talk right then, but I'm fairly certain he could hear me. We were hoping he would feel a bit better the following day and I might be able to talk some more. But that night, shortly after midnight, we were back home and had gone to bed. Tim got a call from the hospital. Once he had turned the phone over to our mom, he came and got me. I will never forget his next words: "Dad just died." We hurried back to the hospital. He was gone.
Once again, the "what ifs" came. What if I had realized before going to bed that something was physically wrong? What if we had called 911 sooner? Could they have saved him? With a stroke, minutes count. What if the accident in 2019 contributed to his stroke? What if I had listened to his lessons more and appreciated him more when he was alive? What if? What if? What if? I even had to work through some of the "what ifs" from the accident again.
It has been a difficult road since losing my dad. So many times I want to tell him something, ask him a question, give him a hug. While he was fighting for his life, I felt helpless. But "Christ has regarded my helpless estate and has shed His own blood for my soul." In some ways, I felt I failed as a son, and didn't honor and respect my dad as much as I should have. But "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, Oh my soul!" I miss my dad horribly, but I cling to that "peace like a river" that "attendeth my way" as "sorrows like sea billows roll." Someday the faith WILL become sight. I will see my dad again. He is completely healed. I miss him, but for his sake I don't want him to come back. So I sing with my brother in Christ Horatio Spafford:
And Lord, haste the day when the faith shall be sight
The clouds be rolled back as a scroll—
The trump shall resound, & the Lord shall descend—
A song in the night, Oh my soul!
Don't get me wrong, I plan to live for a long time yet, and I want to make an impact while I'm here, but a part of me yearns for that day when we run into each other's arms and joyfully sing Jesus' praises at His feet!
Sources:
https://www.staugustine.com/story/lifestyle/faith/2014/10/17/story-behind-song-it-well-my-soul/985525007/
https://www.thetabernaclechoir.org/articles/it-is-well-with-my-soul.html
https://www.umcdiscipleship.org/resources/history-of-hymns-it-is-well-with-my-soul
https://seelemag.com/blog/story-behind-it-is-well-with-my-soul-cportee
https://springfieldmuseums.org/collections/item/the-sinking-of-the-steamship-ville-du-havre-currier-ives/
https://www.spaffordhymn.com/
