It is well

There have been times where I have been sitting with my friends, and it felt like time was moving so slow. I don't know how else to describe it. It's as if the whole world were slowing down in order for us to enjoy the moment. It was really quite amazing. I didn't want the moment to end. 

We were talking about so many things from politics to sports to religion to anything and everything. It was so organic and natural and unforced. We didn't have to pry or try too hard to get a conversation going. It just flowed.

Those are the moments that I really love. Deep conversations and quality time with friends.

Then we got to this one question that I've kind of held on to for a while: "What song would you want played at your funeral?"

As morbid as that question is, it's more of a question of how do you want people to remember you after you go? Or how do you want people to be comforted? Or what's your theme song?

I remember hearing It is Well for the first time, and I thought about how musically beautiful it was. There was so much going on, and it's probably one of the best songs I've ever heard. And then I found out about the backstory behind the writing of the song. If you haven't read it before, you can look at it here: background story. Once I had heard the story of this song, I loved it even more. There is so much passion and lament and pain and suffering, but it's a song of redemption. That even though all this stuff had happened to him, he could still find it in his heart to say to God and not about God that it was well.

I want my life to be like that.

I've had my share of heartache, trials, and tribulations, but nowhere near what Spafford experienced. It's so easy to throw in the towel when things get hard. To get frustrated at God. To get frustrated at people. To get frustrated with the system. Whatever. When things hit the fan, people normally get confused, upset, and disoriented, and rightfully so. I'm not ever going to say that we should neglect our emotions and reactions to bad situations. Those are part of the human condition. Something awful happens, and we react. There's nothing necessarily wrong with that, but it's when the reaction goes too far. Where the pain turns to callous, hurt turns to cynicism, and wounds turn into perpetual wounds. There has to be a point where the cut becomes a scar. It can't just stay a cut. It has to eventually heal.

If I were to play a song at my funeral, it would be It is Well because I think that I'm at a place where I'm no longer mad at God, people or myself. I had a reason to be upset, but I couldn't just wallow away in self-pity. That's not healthy. It's part of the process to grief, but there has to be a light at the end of the tunnel.

I would never trade my life experiences for anything else. It's gotten me to where I am today. I don't know how I would respond if I were in Spafford's situation, but I know that I can be assured that it is well. That God is bigger than my problems. That my soul is restless until it finds its rest in Thee.