How Sweet the Sound
week 3: It Is Well
“Any great calamity in the natural world, death, disease, bereavement, will awaken a man when nothing else would, and is never again the same. We would never know the treasures of darkness if we were always in the place of placid security.” -- Oswald Chambers
IT IS WELL WITH MY SOUL.
The Lord is close to the brokenhearted; he rescues those whose spirits are crushed.
When peace, like a river, attendith my way
When sorrows like sea billows roll.
Whatever my lot, though has taught me to say it is well.
It is well with my soul.
WE WOULD NEVER KNOW THE TREASURES OF DARKNESS if we were always in the place of placid security.
My God, my God, why have you forsaken me? Why are you so far from saving me, so far from my cries of anguish? My God I cry out by day.
All who see me mock me; they hurl insults, shaking their heads. “He trusts in the Lord,” they say, “let the Lord rescue him. Let him deliver him, since he delights in him.”
Do not be far from me for trouble is near and there is no one to help me.
My mouth is dried up like a clay and my tongue sticks to the roof of my mouth. You lay me in the dust of death. Dogs surround me, a pack of villains encircles me, they pierce my hands and my feet. All of my bones are on display, people stare and gloat over me. They divide my clothes among them, they cast lots for my garments.
But you Lord, do not be far from me. You are my strength, come quickly to help me.
I will declare your name to my people in the assembly I will praise you.
For he has not despised or scorned the suffering of the afflicted one, he has not hidden his face from him, but he has listened to his cry for help.
All the ends of the Earth will remember and turn to the Lord and all of the families of the nations will bow down before Him, for dominion belongs to the Lord and He rules over the nations.
Future generations will serve Him, future generations will be told about the Lord. They will proclaim his righteousness declaring to a people yet unborn, He has done it.
My sin, o the bliss of this glorious thought.
My sin not in part by the whole,
Is nailed to the cross, I bear it no more.
Praise the Lord, praise the Lord, o my soul!
It is well with my soul
It is well it is well with my soul