whatever my lot, thou has taught me to say
“even so, it is well with my soul.”
these words are heavy. they’re a bold statement. whatever happens, whatever comes my way i choose to say that it is STILL well.
it isn’t easy, it is heavy. sometimes i can barely stir my heart to think of these words, sometimes i can’t even imagine how i could possibly say that it is well.
how could i possibly say that it is well with me when my heart is broken and mourning the loss of life? how could i possibly proclaim this when i am weighed down with the hurts of the world and the human brokenness that relationships often remind us of.
whatever my lot…whatever comes my way. whatever. whether it be loss. whether it be heartbreak. whether it be failure. whether it be trial or tragedy or triumph or turmoil.
whatever my lot.
i’m not sure about what you carry through life or the things that you’ve had to live through. but often times i feel as though i’m given more trial than triumph… my faith has been stretches and torn and mended together and stretched some more. i can point you to the stitches on my heart where i’ve had to have it sewn back together after storms have torn it apart.
friends, what i am saying is that i know the difficulty to say that it is well. there are lots that we are given that make it seemingly impossible to say that it is well. i’ve certainly felt the weight of situations that crush the positivity out of my life. i’ve been weakened to the point where i can do is cry out and ask God why… why me? Why must i carry this? Why must we be given this sorrow to wade through?
sometimes life can feel so unkind,
but sorrow won’t define me, so it just reminds my soul
that my eyes are open, my heart is beating.
my lungs are full and my body’s breathing.
over a year ago i stood in a tiny venue underneath a city I love, listening to a band that my friends and i had recently learned to love. this was barely a few weeks before my life would be changed by the loss of my best friend. the band was made up of the sons of a popular Christian artists of the early 2000s – Steven Curtis Chapman. I found that their songs were so real, so raw. The words felt so full of truth and full of experience. These sons and their family had suffered through the loss of their youngest sibling. They had experienced tragedy of God taking away. And yet they could bring their hearts to sing about the heavy things. to sing “it is well” in their own ways.
That night, I sang along to these words, “sorrow won’t define me…” Little did I know i would face my own type of sorrow in just a few weeks. at that moment, i could never imagine that this song would become my anthem through the trials and the pain.
the pain of loss has made my heart sting, but that pain also reminds me that i am alive. my heart still works. even though it is hard to breathe, my lungs still work. even though it is hard to speak, my voice is still there.
we are still here, we are still alive. our hearts are still beating and our lungs are still working. perhaps it is hard, perhaps it hurts. but we are still here, we still have stories yet to tell and songs yet to sing and storms yet to wade through and mountains yet to climb.
whatever my lot, whatever comes my way.
it is well.
whatever You take away, whatever You give
it is well.
whatever storms rise, whatever mountains i have to climb
it is well.
whatever breaks my heart, whatever i carry
it is well.
i do not understand why things happen. i still don’t understand why death exists. i still don’t understand why good people are given such terrible loads to carry. i still don’t understand it all.
but what i know for sure is that these trials that we suffer through are not for nothing. what we deal with during our time here are achieving eternal glories and bidding others to see Christ in a way that perhaps that have not seen before. Our ability to find strength and truth and light in the dark days of trials points others who Christ. The scars on our hearts show others that there is a great Healer who promises to mend every wound, no matter how messy it might be. Even though we might not be able to utter the words “it is well,” our trust that Christ will one day make it all well with us is what changes people. It is our weaknesses that declare He is our strength.
O Lord haste the day when my faith shall be sight,
the clouds be rolled back as a scroll and the trump shall resound
and the Lord shall descend,
even so, it is well with my soul.