A Cell-Phone Choir Sings "It Is Well With My Soul"

I didn't think I'd be so moved by this, but I was.  Check out this cell-phone choir sing "It Is Well With My Soul" during this time of coronavirus chaos and social-distancing.  Not only is it a beautiful a cappella rendition of the song, but it's a great reminder that the church can survive times of crisis, social distancing, and isolation.  There are always ways to pull together and encourage each other, even at times like this.  

Because Church isn't a building; it's a people.  

And this song isn't just a bunch of empty words about convincing yourself you're at peace during times of great trial and heartache.  It wasn't written by someone who doesn't understand, by someone offering lame Christian platitudes or pathetic pat answers for pain.  For anyone who doesn't know the story behind this song, the tragic events that led Horatio Spafford to write it, click here.  This song was written from a heart that understands.  

We don't get to choose what our future holds or which tragedies we face in life, but we can choose how we react to them.  

We can choose to push the Lord away when we're in pain or we can choose to draw near to Him.  

We can choose despair or we can choose to have faith that He is with us through the pain and will work good out of the bad.  

We can choose to say "Everything is terrible and there's no hope" or we can choose to say "It is well with my soul."



A post of mine from years ago (edited a bit) called "Genuine Faith is Messy" (it's long and rambly, but that's the way I write):


You know, if there’s one thing I’ve learned over these past depressing years of my life, it’s that faith is messy sometimes.  Faith hurts sometimes.  It’s not as easy and predictable and “magic-wandy” as I used to think it was. 

And I think a critical part of strengthening and purifying our faith – of learning humility - is learning to praise Him regardless of what's going on in our lives, even when we're facing painful trials.


Because it’s in the messy, painful trials that we learn most about who God really is and who we really are.  It’s where we learn most about His love, grace, faithfulness, forgiveness, all-sufficiency, etc.  It’s where our faith grows (oftentimes after a lot of confusion and pain) and where our trust in Him is purified.  




I think many of us have faith in God at first because we think it will fix every problem, or because it’s fun and gives us an emotional high, or because our friends or family are doing it, or because we think it will get us what we want.  And when things are going good, we sail through life, giving little thought to spiritual matters, to our perceptions of God and faith.

But then we hit a bump.  A huge or lingering trial.  Something we can't do anything about.  A long time of waiting on God, and yet still nothing happens.  A "no" from Him when we really wanted a "yes."  

And we begin questioning God and our faith, wondering what kind of God He is, what prayer is about, what it means to "have faith," what God really thinks of us and how He interacts with us, etc.  

The trials and pain and “unanswered” prayers force us to "get real," to dig down deep into ourselves to figure out what we really think of God and of ourselves and why we have faith in Him to begin with.  

"Is God really real?  Is He worth putting my faith in?  If I don't get what I want, can I still believe in Him and trust Him?  Is He really enough for me and is His grace really sufficient, even when everything else falls apart?  Will I still cling to Him and praise Him, even when I'm hurting and when He's confusing, trusting that He is still a good, loving Father who is watching out for me and who will work good out of bad?"



Painful trials and unanswered prayers are lines in the sand, separating the men from the boys, the faithful followers from the wishy-washy imposters.  They are the moments when God challenges us: "Which side do you choose to stand on?  Why are you choosing it?  And will you still stand with Me, even if I don’t do what you want Me to do?  Am I still real to you, even when you're not getting your way?"   


If He's only real to us when we're getting our way, then He's not really real to us at all.  If we only have faith in Him when life's going good, then we never really had real faith in Him to begin with. 





Trials have a way of purifying our faith in God, of revealing where our faith really is and how genuine it is.  

Faith doesn't grow stronger when we're pampered and spoiled and self-confident and in-control and focused on ourselves.  

Faith grows stronger when our world is shaken, when our comfort and self-confidence are stripped away, when we suddenly find ourselves out-of-control, and when we turn our full attention to Him.  

Because when this happens, we begin to examine our views of ourselves and of God.  We begin to realize how small and helpless we really are, and how much we really need Him.  We begin to see the difference between our misconceptions of God versus how He really is as revealed in His Word.  

And when we begin to see Him as He really is, we have to decide to either reject Him or to fully embrace Him for the God that He is, as God of our whole life, even the painful parts.  And if we choose to fully embrace Him, no matter what, then we'll find our faith in Him purified and strengthened.  And when our faith in Him is purified and strengthened - when it's no longer blown about by the circumstances of life - we'll reach a deeper level of trust in Him, one that isn't shaken when life is falling apart.

Painful trials have a way of revealing what's really in our hearts and where our faith really is.  And they challenge us to put our faith solidly in Him.     




It’s easy to “have faith” when life is going good and we're getting what we want.  But that’s not really faith, now is it?  It’s gratitude that life is good.  It’s happiness because we're getting what we want.  And many times it’s idolatry in disguise: focusing on what God gives us instead of on God Himself, relating to Him as we want Him to be instead of as He really is, taking gifts from Him while withholding our hearts from Him, taking Him for granted while not giving anything back.

I mean, how many times do you hear that someone has left Christianity or turned their back on God because it “didn’t work”?  Maybe they were going through a hard time or needed some answers or were looking for something more, and so they decided to “try” God.  But then when it “didn’t work” the way they expected, they gave it up and decided that it’s all just a fantasy anyway, that they're better off on their own.  (Recently I read about why a celebrity left the faith she grew up in ... and it all had to do with the fact that it wasn't working for her, that it didn't fit what she wanted.  And so she decided to redefine it for herself, for what works for her and fits her desires and personality.  But a God who is defined by us is no god at all!)

Painful trials force us to decide if we really believe that God is real, that is He who He says He is, that faith really does matter, that God's still good enough and faithful enough and real enough to keep clinging to, even when life is hard, and that there is more to life than what we see.

Trials force us to decide who we really want on the throne in our lives.




And that’s the scary part.  It’s why many people turn from God.  

If we sit on the throne ourselves, then we get to (I would say "have to") handle things our own way and we feel like we don't have to answer to anyone.  And we like that power.  It makes us feel capable and secure.


But if God sits on the throne, then we have to relate to Him as He really is, to humble ourselves before Him, and to accept His answers to our prayers, in His timing and in His way, even if it means He says "no."


And that's a very hard thing to accept when we're in pain, that we're not as in control of our lives and futures as we like to think we are, that things don't always go our way.  It causes us to doubt Him and His love and ourselves and our faith.  It causes us to wrestle with the hard things in life, even with God Himself.  And many of us just don't have the heart or energy to wrestle that deeply.  We don't have the patience to wait on Him.  We don't have the humility to let the Lord have control and to accept His answers to our prayers.  

But that's the way it has to be - the way it is - when God is on the throne.  We can ask what we want in prayer, but He decides when and how to answer.  And if we don't like His timing or His answer, then we have to decide if we're going to turn our backs on Him in frustration and despair, going our own way ... or if we will bow down humbly before Him, honoring Him as God over all areas of our lives, nestling into His arms and trusting that He is still a good, loving, faithful Father, even when life is going crazy and we don't understand Him.




I think that to make it through the painful trials with our faith intact, we have to take inventory of what our expectations and misconceptions are of God and of ourselves and of faith and of life.  We need to get rid of our wayward, unfair, unrealistic expectations and misconceptions of how life "should be" and how we think God "should be" and what He "should" give us and do for us … and we need to replace them with biblical expectations, based on what the Word says about who He is and how He acts.  (Check out "Through The Refining Fire: Your 'Sweetly Broken' Journey" for more on this.)

Oftentimes, it’s not God who lets us down.  It’s our misconceptions and expectations that let us down.  If we base our views of God and faith on what we wish was true and what we expect to be true – instead of on what the Bible says in true – then we will be let down when the trials come.  Because we will think that God failed us and that He can’t be trusted.

And if we base our view of God and our belief in Him on our circumstances and on how He answers our prayers – instead of getting to know Him as He really is in the Word – then it’s just a matter of time before we decide that faith “didn’t work,” and we turn our backs on Him in bitterness and go our own way.

Because He wasn’t who we thought He "should be".

But once again, it isn’t God who lets us down.  It’s our own views – our expectations and misconceptions – that ruined our faith because we were building our faith around them.



And I think this is sometimes why God allows the hard trials, the deepest heartaches.  They cause us to take a good, long look at what we believe about Him, about faith, about life, about ourselves.


And if we are wise, we will evaluate our beliefs and toss out the bad ones and replace them with godly, biblical truths.  (But if we are unwise, we will simply grow bitter and turn our backs on Him.)

And as we begin to understand deeper biblical truths and to see God for who He really is and ourselves for who we really are, our faith will grow and our trust in Him will become more pure.  It will move from a “what’s in it for me” faith to an “I will trust You regardless of what happens in my life because I know You too well to turn my back on You” faith.  And we will be humbled before Him, as children at the feet of the Father.  And we will be able to praise Him for who He is, even when life hurts.

Real faith is about not letting the darkness, pain, and confusion pull you away from God, but letting it draw you nearer to God, propelling you into His arms.   




[And trust me, I know the pain of life, the kind of pain that drives one to despair, to panic attacks and constant anxiety attacks, to fear and despair the moment you realize you're awake and have to face another day, to thinking that you just don't want to be here anymore.  I've been there before.  And it's not fun.  And I didn't know if I'd make it through.  But I did, slowly but surely.  And I'm still here.  And my faith is stronger for it.  I guess when you get to the point of realizing that you'll still believe in Jesus even if everything falls apart, that you'd be willing to die with the name of Jesus on your lips, then you get to the point where the bad circumstances of life have no power to shake your faith anymore.  They might shake your life and your feelings, but they don't shake your faith.  And your faith becomes a very solid place to stand.  And that's a good thing.  A very good thing!]    




In the trials and the pain, we say “I have faith in You that You can do what I am asking You to do.” 

But God might just be saying, “Yes, but will you still have faith in Me if I don’t do what you’re asking Me to do?”


Because that is what real faith looks like!




Genuine faith in God is not one that says, “I asked for such-and-such, and I believe You can do it, so I’m claiming in faith that You’ll do it.”  (Unless it is in reference to a clear biblical promise God has given us, like for wisdom.)  That’s being presumptuous about what God wants and how He should answer.  That's us trying to lead Him, not follow Him.  That's us trying to manipulate Him with our "great faith," telling Him what He has to do for us if He wants us to keep believing in Him. 

Faith that's based on getting what we want from God is not really faith in God at all.  It's faith in ourselves, in our ability to use our prayers or good behavior to manipulate God, to get what we want.  It's faith in our faith, but it's not faith in God.  


Because a genuine faith in God is a faith that says, “I can’t see what’s ahead and I may not get what I want and my heart is hurting and I'm really scared ... but I still believe in You.  I know You are real.  I know You are listening to my prayers.  And I believe that You can do what I am asking You to do.  But even if You don’t, I know that You are good, that You still love me, and that You will work all things out in Your way and in Your timing and into something good, even the pain I'm going through.  You are God and I am not.  Your will be done.  Blessed be the name of the Lord.” 


This is putting our faith in God.  This is humility.  


And to be honest, it's a very difficult journey, getting to this point of faith.  Because it involves letting go of the control we love to have (the perceived "control").  It involves being stripped of our self-confidence so that we can find our confidence in Him.  It involves putting His plans and desires and goals over our own.   

But when we have learned to trust Him no matter what's going on in our lives, when we have learned to want Him more than what He can give us or do for us, then we will find a deeper level of peace, contentment, and joy, even in the hard times.  Because our faith will be in Him, not in our misconceptions of Him or in the ever-shifting circumstances of this wishy-washy life or in whether or not we get what we want.



If we can’t say “Blessed be Your name” during the hardest trials then we don’t really mean it during the easier times either.

If we won’t follow Him in the hard times – if we turn our backs on Him when the going gets tough or when we don’t get what we want – then we were never really following Him to begin with.



The genuineness of our faith isn’t tested and proved by how well we handle the successes, how many earthly “blessings” we have, how much we serve at church, or how polished our words and prayers are.

The genuineness of our faith is tested and proved by how well we shoulder the crosses placed on our backs, how well we handle the trials, and if we continue to follow Him and praise Him, even when times are hard and our hearts hurt. 





As I laid there one night thinking about everything I’ve been through (in the post "Where I'm Coming From"), I asked myself if I really wished I was one of those people who has “the good life”?  Who has it easy?  Do I wish that my life was one of smooth sailing?  


Well, of course, yes.  That sounds great.



But honestly . . . no, I don’t.


While life sucks sometimes and the burdens are heavy, I wouldn’t trade them for “the easy road.” 

I’d rather struggle with deep loneliness, feelings of failure, and unfulfilled dreams than struggle with how big of a television to buy. 


I’d rather desperately desire more of the Lord’s presence than desperately desire the newest upgrade for my phone. 


I’d rather know deep pain well enough so that I can sense it in others and try to help them than know such incredibly self-centered happiness that I fail to notice and have sympathy for those who hurt. 


I’d rather know brokenness so that I could feel His grace so that I could pass it onto others than have so much self-confidence and self-sufficiency that I don’t need the Lord’s grace and, therefore, don’t know how to extend it to others. 


I’d rather spend my days struggling with deep, meaningful ache than fritter away my days on meaningless pursuits. 


I’d rather struggle with a confusing faith and a mysterious God than have simplistic pat answers about how faith works and have a shrunken, easily-manipulated God that I keep tucked away in a little box until I want Him to do something for me.


I'd rather cling to a tiny bit of eternal grace than a whole bunch of temporary toys.  





It is in the struggle and the longing and the pain that I have learned just how sufficient God’s grace is, even if life still hurts. 

I have learned that God truly is enough, because nothing else in life really satisfies.  Nothing else in life is that firm of a foundation.  Nothing else will last eternally.  


I have learned to keep my eyes on eternity and to work for eternity, because this life holds very little for me and it will all pass away soon. 


I have learned that God is so much greater and more mysterious than I ever imagined, and I’m learning to be okay with that ... because that’s what makes Him the God that He is and not a god of my own imagination (which would be no god at all). 


I have learned to sense pain in others and to desire to speak a word of encouragement or eternal hope to them, because I know how a broken heart and broken spirit feels. 


And I know that these trials are building something in my spirit and my faith that will come to fruition and fullness in eternity.  And so I can bear with them for now.  For they are temporary.  But they are building a character and faith and trust which will reap rewards that are eternal.


And so I can call the hard times “blessings in disguise” and thank Him for the good He brings out of the pain.



            James 1:2-4:  “Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance.  Perseverance must finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything.”



          2 Corinthians 4:16-18: “Therefore we do not lose heart.  Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day.  For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all,  So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen.  For what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal.”



          Matthew 6:19-21:  “Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy, and where thieves break in and steal.  But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where moth and rust do not destroy, and where thieves do not break in a steal.  For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.”





My hope is not in anything this world has to offer.  My hope is in the Lord alone, in the fact that He walks with me through the hard times, that He will make something good out of all the bad, that I will see the rewards for my faithfulness in eternity, that He will eventually make all wrongs right again, and that all of this struggle will be worth it when I hear, “Well done, good and faithful servant.” 


And until then, I am learning to praise Him – just because of who He is.  When my mind is muddled and my heart is hurting and I can't think of anything else to be thankful for, I am learning to say "Thank You for You.  For being real.  For being a God who cares, who listens, and who can handle the things I can't."  And I am learning to trust Him, no matter what happens, because He has proven Himself to be a good, faithful Father time and time again. 


It is because of - not in spite of - the painful trials that my faith has grown.  It has grown from a pat-answer, self-assured, “gimme” faith in a god of my own imagination ... to a real, hard-won, lasting, sustaining faith in God as He is.  


A God who is mysterious but good.  Who can’t be manipulated by us but still listens to us.  Who has His own plans and timing, but who never forgets about us or abandons us.  A God who doesn't always give us what we want but gives us what we need.  Who doesn't always make sense, but who promises to work for our good and to make all things right again someday.  And a God who hurts when we hurt, who walks with us through the pain, and who loves us immensely, enough to leave heaven and come to earth in a human body so that He could die the death that we deserve, so that we can have eternal life with Him.

That is a God worth clinging to!  

And that is the reason, even when there's tears in our eyes, that we can say "It is well with my soul."

Two of my favorite, most encouraging songs: Oh, What Love! and Sweetly Broken.

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