When I was in church today I was thinking about the people I interact with here in this forum and started realizing how hopeless atheism really is. The pastor talked about how they had buried his baby sister, who only lived 40 days, when he was just 10. He then talked about an old hymn called "It is well."
This hymn was written after several traumatic events in Spafford’s life. The first was the death of his only son in 1871 at the age of four, shortly followed by the great Chicago Fire which ruined him financially (he had been a successful lawyer). Then in 1873, he had planned to travel to Europe with his family on the SS Ville du Havre, but sent the family ahead while he was delayed on business concerning zoning problems following the Great Chicago Fire. While crossing the Atlantic, the ship sank rapidly after a collision with a sea vessel, the Loch Earn, and all four of Spafford's daughters died. His wife Anna survived and sent him the now famous telegram, "Saved alone . . .". Shortly afterwards, as Spafford traveled to meet his grieving wife, he was inspired to write these words as his ship passed near where his daughters had died.
A few of the lyrics:
When peace like a river, attendeth my way,
When sorrows like sea billows roll;
Whatever my lot, Thou hast taught me to say,
It is well, it is well, with my soul.
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!
I was thinking about my mom today too. Her birthday would have been two days ago. She struggled with Alzheimers for 10 years to the point she was bed ridden and couldn't even feed herself. She passed away 3 years ago and I was able to spend the last few days with her by her bed until Friday morning at 5 am when she took her last breath and finally rested.
Her death sent me into a year long mid life crisis. I will define a mid life crisis as the full HEART realization that life isn't forever. You see, we all have the HEAD knowledge that life is finite, but most of us can spend our entire life without the FULL HEART realization that there will be an end. As a cop for 10-years I had seen many people die, young and old. I'd seen the aftermath of a young man who ended the desparation with a 30/30 rifle inserted into his mouth. What a mess. I had seen the drug addict, who out of consideration of the people who would find her, had slit her wrist in the bath tub of a flea bag hotel on Apache Blvd. These were tragedies, but they weren't real to me. They were just strangers, unfortunate casualties of the desperate times we live in. With my mother's death, death became really real, and I began to question some aspects of my faith. Then I wound up going through a 12-week series called the Truth Project. I wound up becoming very interested in the ID movement, and on that path, had my faith restored. I look at world around me in a whole new light.
I relate this little story because after my mother's death, I really questioned what was really the point of this whole mess. My mother had a very hard child hood, belonging to a very poor family of farmers in Boaz, Alabama. Her mom and dad were alcoholics. Somehow she and my straight laced "Bible-thumping" dad fell in love and got married. I know she enjoyed her adult life, raised three kids, and had many very close friends in our church, only to be SLOWLY robbed of all her life and memories which started at age 63 by a very cruel disease.
I remember one night close to the end when I was getting ready to come back to Phoenix after visiting her in the hospital. It was late and I had taken my dad home to get some rest and stopped back into the hospital before making the 100 mile drive home. There was a male nurse trying to clean her up after she had a messed herself. The disease had progressed to where she no longer had control of her bowels. She was so scared and really didn't know what was happening to her. She was trembling and didn't understand what this strange man was doing to her. I could just see the terror in her eyes and all I could do was just hold her hand and tell her it was going to be okay. I hope she found comfort in my voice, even though consciously she no longer even knew who I was.
For some of you, during times of suffering, the question becomes "How could God let this happen?" For me it was just the opposite. I questioned, "How can I make sense of all this in the absence of God?" If God isn't real, what a cruel joke life is. What cruel chance is our presence here.
What a joy it is to have my faith in Christ restored. I know that I am just a pilgrim on a journey through this life but this isn't all there is. My hope remains in Christ, even in death. I know deep in my heart I will see my mother again, with her memories fully restored. You may think I believe in a fairy tell. But for me that confidence is unwavering.
I just can't even imagine how hopeless life would be without that hope. Natural Selection is cruel. Why do some get to live to 100 but others die before the age of two months. Why are some lives even ended before their tiny lungs ever even fill with air?
And what of your loved ones who have died? They were just here a little while and now done forever. Only their memory remains in you and with your demise, those too will be gone and it will be like their life never even happened.
But for me, no matter what comes my way, it is well with my soul.