It Is Well

A couple weeks ago, a good friend and I set off on a day-trip to my favorite town in Michigan, in search of rest and just getting away and glad to be pursuing a day like that together.  It was an absolutely lovely trip (I mean, there was that one part where we left our umbrellas in the car during a torrential downpour – but even that part of the adventure turned out to be fun, if a bit…wet).

At one point in the day, we were window-shopping in jb and me, and I found a necklace that completely captivated me.  I found myself wandering back around to look at it again and again, finally checked the price tag, and regretfully told myself no.

But I’ve been thinking about that necklace on and off for the past few days, and I’ve decided that when I drive back up this weekend with some other friends for our annual apple-picking road trip: if it’s still there, I’m going to splurge.

background photo courtesy of ©Depositphotos.com / tolokonov

It was nothing fancy.  Just a simple piece of metal on a pretty chain – but the words engraved on it spoke deep.

“It is well with my soul.”

It is well with my soul.

Horatio Spafford penned those words in the late 1800s in the midst of enormous personal tragedy.  His grief was great – but even in the midst of it, he held to a truth that was greater than his grief: it was well with his soul.  Everything was going wrong – but his soul was all right.  No matter what happened – he would be in heaven with Jesus on the far end of all of it.  That was what really mattered.

Oh, to have that kind of faith and hope and confidence in the midst of dark days.  Not just before them and after them, but in them.  It is well with my soul.

There are a lot of changes and a lot of unknowns coming my way over the next few months.  It would be easy to freak out prematurely about not knowing the answers or the next steps to take – but there is no need for that.  It is well.  It is well.

It is well with my soul.

And while that’s true eternally, there are things I can do here and now to make sure it is found true in the present:

I can keep my eyes on Jesus instead of circumstances outside my control.  I can let my life speak (and learn to listen to it).  I can slow down when I need to, choosing wiser rhythms of work and rest.  I can breathe.  Be calm.  Wait.  Be still.  Listen.

It’s just a piece of jewelry, and I probably can’t really afford it.  But sometimes we just need an icon – something to remind us, to point us back, to the truths we already know.

It is well with my soul.

That is something worth splurging to remember.