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It is well with my soul
Tuesday, October 16, 2007 at 11:24PM Sometimes when sleep eludes me, I contemplate the many twists and turns of the last six months. It troubles me to feel so ungrounded, so unsure, so unstable. Without a doubt we live in a precarious world, at the mercy of the actions and decisions of people we'll never even meet. What then do we hold on to when all around us is chaos? Not to mention the inner chaos of living with a mental disorder which makes everyday life such a trial?
Since the age of five I've leaned on that "love, that will not let me go . . ." I learned early to respond to this eternal love, but my response was that of a young child who has yet to learn the spurious nature of happiness. Because I was loved (by my father), it was no big stretch to believe in and accept an even greater love: a divine love given freely with no strings attached and no expectations to live up to. I was loved, I knew I was loved, and I took it for granted, much in the manner of all children who unselfconsciously bask in being the apple of someone's eye.
Things are not so simple now; they haven't been since I reached the ripe old age of seven. Somehow, everything in my world went askew with no explanation from any source of love, mortal or divine. My only consistency in the face of tribulations has been to cling, however weakly. I've clung and hidden ("He hideth my soul in the cleft of the Rock...") when storms have blasted me, withering my soul and chilling me to the bone.
When tempted to complain and lament my circumstances, my thoughts have started out as, "But..." But, "I thought You loved me. I thought You would always protect me." What I thought, what I really meant was that I expected God to shield me from evil all the days of my life. Didn't we have an unspoken agreement? For the pleasure and privilege of being part of my life, He would in turn not allow anything unpleasant (much less harmful!) to touch me.
Oh, the misconceptions we fall victim to by assuming we know how God will and should act! The arrogance of it, really. While he is busily at work refining our characters, making of them something more valuable than gold--something of eternal value--we fret and fidget and throw our entire wills and energies into avoiding the very things he allows for our ultimate good.
I say this with all seriousness, knowing where such statements will lead. I say this knowing that in doing so, I condemn my own recent pinings and desiccated faith.
Am I to love and trust him, then, only when things go my way? How deplorable is such a trait in a small child! We see the behaviors resulting from the petulant demand that one's will is never crossed, and immediately the phrase spoiled brat comes to mind.
Have I been like that? Have I been kicking and throwing tantrums because of developments in my world which are not to my liking? Oh, immediately all kinds of defenses go up; I cry out, Oh, but who would want their son brain injured, incapable of living a normal life? Who would desire to move and move and move, and move yet again, seven times total in six months?
Yes, oh yes, I think these things (whether or not I vocalize them.) And they are human and at the same time, so beside the point. Deeper than these indignant protests there resonates a truth I seldom face: the fact that I respect God for not giving into my little snits, for doing what's best for me even when it hurts. I like the fact that he trusts me enough to lead me through the fire (even if I go kicking and screaming), that he doesn't always choose for me the easiest, most pleasant pathways.
I love him for this.
I know he doesn't act out of coldness, or in an arbitrary manner. My sorrows do not please him, nor do they fail to rouse compassion in his breast. To everything there is a season; that's all this is, a season. Seasons pass, nothing stays the same. Was it Job who said, "Should we accept good at the hands of God, and not evil?"
This is not meant to be a sermon-- or if it is, it's meant for me:
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.
That's the kind of hymn I learned by heart, with piercingly honest lyrics that can leave you gasping like the shock of skin caught in a zipper, or cold water thrown in your face.
God is not above being that zipper that pinches my skin, or the water thrown in my face if need be. He has nothing to prove, no need to defend himself. He can take it if I misunderstand and for a time forget that sorrow doesn't mean I've been forsaken.
In writing this I've discovered (rediscovered) that it 
When sorrows like sea billows roll . . .really is well with my soul. All's not well with my world, but it is well with my soul. As I type these words, a hot flash scorches me, reminding me all over again that no, everything really isn't well with my world. I have to laugh at the timing of my hot flash.
Hmm, all is not well with my world but all is well with my soul. I like that; let me cling to this conclusion when once again the billows roll and I am swept up like a twig in a raging river.
Let me cling, let me cling.
Sometimes clinging is the most courageous act of faith of all.
Reader Comments (11)
Wow! What a thought provoking post. You've come a long way in learning to accept that. I don't think many people ever do. I like the "it is not well with my world, but it is well with my soul" - very well put. Thanks for sharing.
I have been working on learning how God has deep compassion for me even when I am throwing a tantrum. When I am willful, he does not merely grit his teeth and bend his will against mine, sure to win the battle -- he says, like he did to Paul, "oh, it's hard for you to kick against the goads, isn't it?" Firm AND gentle. I hope he will keep working in me to help me be thus firm and gentle with my little one.
I came upon your site from blogrush....and I am glad that I did.
Beautifully written and extremely touching blog.
I will be back!
: )
Dear Beautifuldreamer
poignant, touching, soulful, we thank you. we have struggled with the "why us God?" and the "how could you let them?" in our one sided debates with us doing all the talking and He listening, and He ends up Winning!! Well so do we, He just lets us rant and rave until we come back to Him.
peace and blessings
Keepers
I love "All is not well with my world, but it is well with my soul"
Clinging is the most courageous act of faith I have ever seen. It is hard....but oh, so worth it! In that moment, that clinging, there is hope. And you will make it through!
Tracie,
I'm always reminded of the verse which talks about putting your hand to the plow and not looking back. I seem to waver between looking back, and setting my face like a flint.
It's a wonderful thing though to arrive at a season in life when you realize that all can be well with your soul even when all is not well with your world.
I found you through the Blogo carnival against Child abuse. I Love this. I too have often cried out to God. Psalm 91 became my healing point from anxiety attacks adn overwhelming fears. I would love to follow you but have no clue how to do that.. HELP
I like what you said about clinging being a courageous act of faith. I agree. I'm so glad you're back to blogging, Beauty, and really glad you joined us this month for The Blog Carnival Against Child Abuse. I've always thought you have so much to say and such an eloquent way of saying it.
What a beautiful post. That is one of my favorite spiritual songs. I love the line that says, "It is well, it is well with my soul." Even more beautiful when sung. Thank you for sharing this with the Blog Carnival Against Child Abuse May 2010.
Thanks for the kind words Marj. I'm glad to be blogging again; I missed it more than I thought I would!
Patricia,
Thanks for stopping by and leaving a comment. I'm glad to hear you enjoyed the post.