just keep swimming

I'm up all night tonight. I have to take care of my roommate who has mysteriously fallen ill after waking up from an afternoon nap. It's her birthday today. Christmas songs resound from her laptop. I feel the night breeze sweeping in from our window.

I remember last Sunday's service. I wore all black for a certain reason. :)

I was just reminded of my humbled and helpless estate through a hymn which we sang in church. It would be difficult to say, "It is well with my soul" after experiencing sudden turn of events such as what had happened to the hymn's composer, Mr. Horatio Spafford. He was a businessman. When fire broke out in Chicago in 1871, his businesses turned to ashes. As he tried to save whatever was left, he sent his wife and daughters to England. The ship they boarded sank. Only his wife survived. She sent him a telegram, "Saved alone." When Mr. Spafford boarded his own ship and reached the site where the ship sank, the loneliness was transformed into a hymn. God's grace.

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.

Refrain

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!

Refrain

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.

Refrain

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!

Refrain

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.

Refrain

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