Perfect Peace 

“You {LORD} will keep in perfect peace all who trust in You, all whose thoughts are fixed on You! Isaiah 26:3 NLT

The morning after a rain shower is so sweet. The breeze is cool and there’s still enough shade in the side yard to sit and enjoy being outside in God’s creation. We have groceries in the house, and the bills are paid; we’re all  (relatively) healthy; life is good. It is well with my soul.

But what about when it is all turned upside down? Financial struggles, health issues, losing our livelihood or our home, death…. can we be like Job? Will I be content if I lose all that is dear to me? In the past, I have lost nearly everything – home, belongings, animals, family, health. My physical body was abused and violated. I was anything but content, and I was screaming at God. If I were to face those things now, I want to say I would be like Job (read his story!) or Horatio Spafford (story below) or Fanny Crosby (blind since she was 6 weeks old) or Helen Keller (an amazing woman ), but I don’t know. I pray I never face those kinds of catastrophic loses again, but if they should occur, I pray for God’s peace to wash over me.

My Dad had all kinds of physical issues that should have left him incapacitated when he returned from WWII, but that didn’t stop him. He pastored into his 70’s and raised a family with the help of my beautiful mother (Phyllis Henry) until he became bedridden – and even then, unable to care for His own broken body, he ministered to everyone he came in contact with. I can still hear him singing this song with all of his heart…

This hymn was writ­ten af­ter two ma­jor trau­mas in [Horatio G.] Spaf­ford’s life. The first was the great Chi­ca­go Fire of Oc­to­ber 1871, which ru­ined him fi­nan­cial­ly (he had been a weal­thy bus­i­ness­man). 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, the Ho­ly Spir­it in­spired these words. They speak to the eter­nal hope that all be­liev­ers have, no mat­ter what pain and grief be­fall them on earth. (


“Praise the Lord, O my soul.” Psalm 146:1

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.


It is well, with my soul,
It is well, with my soul,
It is well, it is well, with my soul.

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.


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!


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.


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!
Blessèd hope, blessèd rest of my soul!


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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