March 29, 2012

Dealing With Grief

I've been gone for a while, but with good reason. I've got an awful lot going on in my life lately, on both spectrums- some really fantastic things and then some things that are incredibly hard to deal with. One of these hard things happened this week when my dear, dear Grandpa passed away. I've never had to deal with grief before of someone so close to me. My Grandpa lived a fantastic life and devoted his life to following Christ. He was an example to so many in his hard work and generosity. I have so many memories which make this all the harder...but I can't help but praise God for these memories and the life that he lived. The words of the old hymn, "It Is Well", are running through my head this morning. The writer of the song, Horatio Spafford, dealt with an incredible amount of grief in his life, yet this beautiful song came out of his mourning. I would like to share the words with you on this rainy morning. I think that the last verse, in particular, is most powerful. I am at peace knowing I will see my Grandpa again which is a joyous thing.

  1. It Is Well With My Soul
  2. Horatio G. Spafford

  3. When peace, like a river, attendeth my way,
    When sorrows like sea billows roll;
    Whatever my lot, Thou has taught me to say,
    It is well, it is well, with my soul.
    • Refrain:
      It is well, with my soul,
      It is well, it is well, with my soul.
  4. Though Satan should buffet, though trials should come,
    Let this blest assurance control,
    That Christ has regarded my helpless estate,
    And hath shed His own blood for my soul.
  5. 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, O my soul!
  6. For me, be it Christ, be it Christ hence to live:
    If Jordan above me shall roll,
    No pang shall be mine, for in death as in life
    Thou wilt whisper Thy peace to my soul.
  7. But, Lord, ’tis for Thee, for Thy coming we wait,
    The sky, not the grave, is our goal;
    Oh, trump of the angel! Oh, voice of the Lord!
    Blessed hope, blessed rest of my soul!
  8. And Lord, haste the day when my faith shall be sight,
    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.

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