There is a widely known Christian hymn penned by Horatio G. Spafford entitled “It is Well” or “It is Well with my Soul”.
The history behind the hymn holds epic tragedy. Horatio was a successful lawyer and real estate investor in Chicago in the 1870s. He and his wife Anna lost close to all of their real estate investments in the great Chicago fire. This came shortly after the death of their son. In efforts to recover after these painful events Anna and their 4 daughters traveled by ship to England. During the voyage their ship collided with another and all 4 daughters died.
I have heard it said that one of Anna’s last memories of the deadly incident was her baby girl being ripped from her arms by the waves.
Anna made it to England, alone.
When Horatio traveled to join her he too went by ship and it is said that when his ship came close to the spot of the crash, he was moved by the Holy Spirit to write the deeply moving lyrics of this song.
Here they are:
“When peace, like a river, attendeth my way,
When sorrows like sea billows roll;
Whatever my lot, Thou hast taught me to say,
It is well, it is well, with 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, O my soul!
And Lord haste the day when the faith shall be sight,
The clouds rolled back as a scroll;
The trump shall resound, and the Lord shall descend,
Even so, it is well with my soul.”
Months ago while working in camp we heard of an incident in which the Turkish Coast Guard purposefully capsized a boat of more than 50 refugees and watched them all drown.
Can you imagine, standing above all those men, women, and children as they screamed, thrashed and fought the waves for their lives?
We never found out what actually happened.
But I can tell you what they do.
They do flood engines. They do cut holes in the rubber sides of the rafts as the refugees cling to them. They do intercept 1,000s of people seeking freedom and drag them back to become even more desperate and destitute because they’ve already sacrificed everything. Or worse to be thrown in camps and prison. Turkey makes a lot of money by doing that.
The tragedy behind this classic hymn is real for hundreds of refugees. The sea between Turkey and Greece has become a watery grave for countless victims.
Alan Kurdi is not the only little baby to drown. He is just the only one the media saw wash up on shore. The fisherman of Lesvos pull up bodies all the time. But I’m sure you haven’t heard about that.
While I was in camp one day I heard it said, “How bad must the sharks be on land if the people are fleeing to face the ones in the sea”.
And Nathan’s words rang in my ears, “If they send us back, it would be better for us to drown in the ocean here…”
And the reality is, so many… so many of them do.
They drown, and it is not well with my soul.
In our time on the island of Lesvos we spent some days cleaning up its beaches. Rubber rafts litter them all over.
Why? Because that is how the refugees come. And these boats cover the beaches, deflated.
Why? Because the smugglers who take thousands of dollars to pile refugees on them are sure to tell them one last thing before they brave the 6 miles of rough sea across.
(Sound like a short trip? Glue a piece of wood to the bottom of an inner tube and try to sit on the edge of it over 6 miles of open ocean).
The refugees are told to slash a hole in their “boats” when they near land and swim in, because if they land on shore with a functioning vessel the coast guard can send them right back. This is of course after they take extra money from them to sell them fake life vests, not ever meant for the ocean or to protect someone’s life. They’ve often filled with cheap batting or old furniture cushions.
Just one of the multitude of injustices they suffer.
Here is a glimpse of the “life-vest graveyard” :
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mSW1tlF7Jdk
So many of those who perish remain unknown because they came alone, going ahead to secure the way. Or they are so far from anyone who ever knew them. Or everyone who knew them have already been killed.
Could I go through what they have been through and write a hymn like Horatio Spafford?
When I hear their stories in the camp, it is not well with my soul.
But I know that we serve a just God. One that seethes with anger when humans suffer. One who loves each and every single one of us more than our minds can comprehend.
A God who knows exactly what it means to sacrifice everything and be willing to die for freedom.
A God who in His righteousness has given us free will and the power of choice.
So I am going to keep using mine to give voice to the untold facts. To create platforms for the unheard stories and tell you what I have seen. To take action and fight, for the unsettling injustices and heartbreak. Striving to love with the same kind of love that drove Jesus to die for us all. Because we are all His beloved people, and all of us have that choice.
And I am going to continue to walk with Him, in the hope that someday I will have the faith to write the kind of hymn He deserves.
And to know it is well with my soul.
