Sunday Grace

"When peace like a river attendeth my way

When sorrows like sea billows roll

What ever my lot you have taught me to say

It is well, it is well with my soul

Though the devil will ruin, though trials may come

Let this blessed assurance control

That Christ has regarded my helpless estate

And He shed His own blood for my soul

It is well, with my soul

It is well, it is well with my soul

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

It is well, with my soul

It is well, it is well with my soul

It is well with my soul

It is well, it is well with my soul

And Lord haste the day when my faith shall be sight

And 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

It is well with my soul

It is well, it is well with my soul

It is well with my soul

It is well, it is well with my soul"

- Words by Horatio G. Spafford, 1873

- Music by Philip P. Bliss, 1876

The words to this hymn was written after two major traumas in Spafford's life. The first was the Great Chicago Fire of October 1871, which ruined him financially. Shortly after, while crossing the Atlantic, all four of Spafford's daughters died in a collision with another ship. Spafford's wife Anna survived and sent him the now famous telegram: "SAVED ALONE." Several weeks later, as Spafford's own ship passed near the spot where his daughters died, he was inspired to write these words.