It Is Well: Lost at Sea

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."

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/

Dad

"Passing bells and sculpted angels, cold and monumental, seem for you the wrong companions. You were warm and gentle."

I'm "working through the unimaginable," to quote Hamilton.

When I was a kid living in the Philippines, my brother Tim introduced me to Broadway musicals. I particularly remember us listening to The Phantom of the Opera on repeat. Sometimes we had to take the cassettes out of the tape recorder and wind the film back into the cassette because it got tangled in the tape recorder. They played "Good Morning" from Singin' in the Rain every morning on the radio, and we taped it, along with other songs like "Put on a Happy Face" from Bye Bye Birdie. We listened to Broadway and Christian music all the time. (My mom got tired of the screams in Phantom of the Opera.)

Through it all, my dad, an avid sports fan, who once dreamed of raising a softball team, encouraged his two sons in our love of music. Neither of us were particularly into sports as he had hoped, but he didn't press us to do something we wouldn't like. (Though we have enjoyed attending baseball games together, and Tim and I have attended a lot of rugby games since the Seattle Seawolves started a couple years ago.) My dad paid attention to our interests and encouraged them. He enjoyed Phantom and other musicals with us. We watched the classic movie musicals as a family. I lost count of how many times we watched The Sound of Music, Fiddler on the Roof, and others. Someone gave us the animated musical of Gulliver's Travels ("Aaaalll's well! It's a hap-hap-happy day!") and we watched that video many times. So many happy memories. 

Every play, musical and concert in school, my dad was there rooting us on. Tim played Captain Corcoran in HMS Pinafore in high school. I would later be in a Disney revue and Oklahoma! when I was in high school. In college, Tim was in a community theatre production of Carousel, and I would later be in South Pacific in a different community theatre group. We both were in Oliver! Tim was in a lot more community theatre shows than I was. I was also in several plays, such as Arsenic & Old Lace, The Curious Savage, You Can't Take it with You, and others. My dad cheered us on and constantly encouraged us. My parents enthusiastically joined our church choir when my brother joined, and when Tim later started directing it. I also participated.

My dad and I also enjoyed watching adventure movies together, such as Lord of the Rings, Pirates of the Caribbean, Master and Commander, Star Wars, and others. We enjoyed discussing them.

For Tim's 30th birthday, my parents treated us to a nearly-lifelong dream of watching The Phantom of the Opera in its national tour when it came through Seattle. Years later, on my 40th birthday, they told me I could name the musical and we would go. It took nearly a year for the right musical to come through Seattle, but we went to Come from Away as a family. We couldn't know it would be the last show we would see together as a family of four.

Last month, my dad was watching football when he had a stroke. We called 911, and he was rushed to the hospital, then transferred to another one a little further away. A week and a half ago, he was put on comfort care, and we rushed to the hospital, where Tim and I both got to talk to him individually and thank him for being a truly amazing father. The next morning, he was gone. We got the call in the middle of the night and rushed back to the hospital. He had been gone nearly an hour when we arrived.

It seems unreal. Just a month ago, he was relatively healthy. Now, he's gone. It's hard to take in. The past week and a half we have been involved in arrangements and so much other stuff involved in losing him. While I'm currently doing better than I would have expected, the grief has been up and down. I'm sure it will intensify as the burial makes it more real.

My mom commented he will have a better Christmas than we will. I rest in the assurance that he is in a better place, with no more pain, completely healed. That is a big help. But I find myself "wishing [he] were somehow here again." I regularly think of a question to ask him or want to share something with him that he would enjoy, only to realize that can't happen. As of a couple weeks ago, he was the only person I had bought Christmas presents for so far.

I remember the amazing man he was, and I think of how much I took for granted when he was with us. So many times I have heard people who have lost a loved one beg their friends to treasure their loved ones while they are here. That never really sank in for me until the past few weeks. I've always appreciated him, but I do now more than ever, and I wish I could tell him.

Several songs have resonated with me in ways they haven't in the past. Josh Groban's rendition of "To Where You Are" has helped. "Here Comes the Sun" by the Beatles. Several hymns, such as "It Is Well" (which was written by a father who had just lost his daughters in a shipwreck). The worship song "We Will Dance". My friend Clay Crosse's rendition of "Time to Believe". "Wishing You Were Somehow Here Again" from The Phantom of the Opera. "Bring Him Home" and "Empty Chairs at Empty Tables" from Les Mis (another cast recording my brother and I played over and over in the 80s and 90s). Multiple songs from Come from Away. "Proud of Your Boy" from Aladdin. "Endless Night" and "He Lives in You" from The Lion King. "All the Wasted Time" from Parade. "It's Quiet Uptown" from Hamilton. "The Honor of Your Name" from The Civil War. Multiple others.

Thank you to everyone who has been so supportive, even not knowing what was going on. You have been a major encouragement to us.

"That's My Boy!"

An angel appeared to Zechariah and told him that his wife, who was too old to have a child, would get pregnant, and they should name him John. When Zechariah had trouble believing that, he couldn’t talk until a little after John was born, and it came time to give the baby a name! Meanwhile, a few months after Gabriel appeared to Zechariah, he appeared to Mary and told her she would have a child and she should name him Jesus. First John was born, then Jesus a few months later. Angels joyfully announced Jesus’ birth to a group of shepherds.

Thirty years had passed since then, and John had grown up and moved into the wilderness. After returning from Egypt, Jesus and his parents had gone to Nazareth, where he grew up. Aside from that journey and an incident after Jesus’ bar mitzvah (a ceremony that Jewish boys go through when they turn 12), we don’t know a lot about his childhood. By the time Jesus was 30, John had been preaching and baptizing for a while. Just as the prophets had foretold, John was preparing the way for his cousin the Messiah. He wore clothes made of camel hair and a leather belt, and he ate locusts and honey. That doesn’t sound very appetizing, but I hope John liked it!

John seems to have been pretty well known. People came from miles around to hear him preach and be baptized. People admitted their sins and asked forgiveness from God, and then John baptized them.

The Pharisees and Sadducees were two groups of religious experts of the time. They didn’t always agree with each other, and they were both wrong about a lot. When John saw some of them coming to the area where he was baptizing, he called to them, “You snakes! Who warned you to run away from God’s anger that is coming? Ask forgiveness for your sins and turn away from them! Don’t tell yourselves, ‘Abraham is our ancestor,’ because God can turn the stones into Abraham’s descendants! I’m baptizing people with water to symbolize what happens when people turn from their sins and choose to follow God. But pretty soon, someone will come who is stronger than I am. I’m not even worthy to carry or untie his sandals.” (At that time, slaves sometimes took care of their masters’ sandals.) “He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and with fire!”

Meanwhile, Jesus was in Galilee. He went to the Jordan River where John was baptizing. When Jesus arrived, John said, “Wait a minute, Jesus. You should be the one baptizing me! Why do you want me to baptize you?”

Jesus replied, “Let’s do this now. It’s the right thing to do to fulfill all righteousness.” So John baptized his relative. No sooner had Jesus come up out of the water, than the Holy Spirit came out of heaven in the form of a dove and landed on Jesus. A loud voice from heaven boomed, “This is my Son! I love him, and I’m so proud of him!”

The next day, John was talking to his friends, and he saw Jesus headed his way. He said, “Look! It’s the Lamb of God who takes away the world’s sins! That’s him, the one I told you about who’s greater than me!”

The day after that, John was talking to two of his disciples when he saw Jesus again. He said, “Hey look! It’s the Lamb of God!” John’s disciples started to follow Jesus, and they hung out with him for a while. One of those disciples was named Andrew. He was so impressed that he ran home and told his brother Simon about what had happened. The brothers came to Jesus, and Jesus said to Simon, “You’re Simon son of John. I’ll call you Cephas” (which is Aramaic for Peter, or Rock).

Jesus then called Philip, who found his friend Nathanael and introduced him to Jesus. So Jesus’ ministry began, and He continued recruiting more disciples.

Jesus' Baptism

Today's Sunday school lesson, from Luke 1-3 (with bits of Matthew thrown in)...


The big day came! Mary and Joseph had gone on a difficult journey with a donkey and their supplies to Bethlehem for a census, only to find no place available to stay. So they found a stable, and their bouncing baby was born. It was a big deal. On a tip from some angels, a group of shepherds visited them. Pretty soon, people started leaving after the census, and Mary and Joseph were able to find a house to raise their new son Jesus. A couple years later, some rich wise men came and brought expensive gifts. But on their way, they stopped by the palace in Jerusalem and talked to King Herod. Herod wasn’t too happy about this new King of the Jews, and he secretly plotted to kill Jesus. But an angel warned Joseph about it in a dream, and the family got up and fled to Africa. Maybe you know the country in Africa where they went? It’s called Egypt. They lived in Egypt until Herod died and it was safe to go back home. So after returning from Egypt, Jesus grew up in Joseph’s hometown of Nazareth. Many years passed, and Jesus turned 30.

Back up a little more than 30 years.

Mary was pregnant and scared. She went to her cousin Elizabeth’s house for a while because she heard that Elizabeth, who was too old to have children, was also pregnant. An angel had appeared to her husband Zechariah and told him they would have a son, and they should name him John. Zechariah didn’t believe the angel at first, so God made him unable to speak, until one day when his neighbors were having a discussion about John’s name, and he wrote on a tablet, “His name is John.” Zechariah prophesied that John would be a prophet, and that he would prepare the way for the promised Messiah that Israel had been awaiting for centuries.

The big day came! Elizabeth gave birth to a son, and they named him John. He was born a few months before Jesus, and when John grew up, he lived in the desert. There wasn’t much to eat there, except maybe some delicious locusts and honey. Yum!!

John became a preacher and prophet, just like his dad had prophesied. He often preached and baptized by the Jordan River, and he had an interesting message. He called the people snakes! He told them they needed to change how they acted. They needed to ask God to forgive their sins. They should share their food and their clothes. Tax collectors should only collect as much in taxes as they were required to collect. Soldiers shouldn’t ask for bribes or accuse people falsely. “Oh, and there’s this guy coming. I’m baptizing you with water, but He’ll baptize you with fire and the Holy Spirit.* I’m not even worthy to untie his sandals,” something that slaves normally did. Pretty soon, 30-year-old Jesus came to His cousin John to be baptized. John was a little reluctant at first since he thought Jesus should be the one baptizing him, but Jesus convinced him to do it.

When Jesus came out of the water, something amazing happened. Heaven opened, and the Holy Spirit came down in the form of a dove! A loud voice from heaven boomed, “You are My Son. I love You, and I’m so proud of You!”

Jordan River, near a location where people are often baptized. 

I did not show this picture in class, but it shows a place 

where it's likely this happened.

So that was how Jesus began His ministry. He got baptized by His cousin John, and He showed publicly that He was different from anyone else.

I showed this picture of a shamrock before the lesson, as 

St. Patrick's explanation of the Trinity is the best I've heard.

We serve one God, who has three parts. That's confusing,

even for adults. As St. Patrick explained it, a shamrock

has three leaves, but it is still one shamrock. That's similar

to how the Trinity is three parts: the Father, the Son and the 

Holy Spirit, but only one God. All three parts showed up at 

Jesus' baptism.

* The prophecy about Jesus baptizing them with the Holy Spirit and fire came true 3 years later in the book of Acts.

All pictures are in the public domain, and I got them from Wikimedia Commons.