Years ago a luxury liner left New York harbor for a European port with a full complement of passengers. Among these was Mrs. H.S. Spafford, the wife of a lawyer in Chicago, and with her were her four little girls.
The long voyage was almost over and the shores of England lay just ahead when a terrible catastrophe occurred. In the darkness a vessel collided with the Atlantic liner, opening a great hole in her side. Immediately the mighty ocean poured in and the steamer began to sink.
As the water rose higher and higher, Mrs. Spafford gathered the children around her, and commended them to her God and Father. One of the little ones, seeing her mother's tears, sought to comfort her. "Mother," she said, "it is as easy to go to the Lord Jesus from the sea as from our home in America.”
Within 12 minutes the great liner was completely inundated, and as it slid beneath the ocean the agonized mother sought vainly to hold her little brood. One by one the precious children were swept from her grasp, perishing before the mother's eyes. She was, however, mercifully preserved, though swept in the current from the rapidly sinking ship. She was picked up several hours later and taken safely to England.
Knowing that the news of the disaster would soon be flashed across the ocean, Mrs. Spafford on reaching shore dispatched a cablegram to her husband. Tidings of the loss of the steamer with many of the passengers had indeed reached him, but, as yet, he did not know the fate of his dear ones. With fearful heart and trembling hand he broke open the envelope. The message was short, only two words. His eye caught the word "Saved," and his heart was filled with rapturous delight. Glancing a second time at the cablegram he perceived the other word, "ALONE," and a tremendous revulsion of feeling ensued. The one moment he was filled with ineffable joy, and the next he was overwhelmed with grief. He could, however, thank God that his beloved wife was saved, though he mourned the loss of his four darlings.
In this dark hour of sorrow his resource was the God of all comfort, and through His sustaining grace he was enabled to compose a hymn which has brought like comfort to many broken hearts:
"When peace like a river attendeth my way;
When sorrows like sea billows roll:
Whatever my lot, Thou halt taught me to say,
`It is well, it is well with my soul.'”