There was once a wealthy woman who lived in Shunem. She noticed that there was an old man who constantly passed her house on his journey.

The old man appeared to be a prophet or a physician because he was constantly going back and forth from one village to the next as if he was always being called on an assignment.

It so happened that one day as the elderly man was passing the lady’s house, she felt this urgent desire to invite him into her home to have supper with her family.

The elderly man gratefully consented to her request. Being the generous person that she was, the lady made a special effort to be hospitable to the stranger whenever he was in her village.

The Shunammite woman even encouraged her husband to build a room onto their house where the gentleman, whom she perceived to be a holy man of God, could spend the night comfortable so that he would be refreshed for his journey the following morning.

This was indeed a very lavish deed. However, this kind compassionate lady did not know that she was storing up treasures in heaven that she would later withdraw from.

The lady did not know that she was sowing good seeds and she would later reap a bountiful harvest.

Years later when calamity struck and her son died suddenly, the Shunamite woman realized that she had a source of help and a rock of strength.

And so, when friends and family thought that she would keel over in despair she said,

“it is well.”

When I am cast out into the deep and the murky waters encompass me, my spirit cries out,

“it is well.”

When the depth closed around me and the weeds of terror wrapped around my head, my soul cries out, “it is well.”

When I fell to the bottom of the pit and all friends abandoned me, yet I cried,

“it is well!”

When sickness loomed its ugly head and the doctors are perplexed, my soul said:

“it is well!”

Is it well with you? Is it well with your family?

It may not be a new moon and it may not be your sabbath, but it shall be well.

Saddle your horse! Move forward!

Run without delay because it shall be well.

Push your way through the crowd and reach for the hem of His garment because it is well.

References: 2 Kings 4; Jonah 2.

The hymn It is well with my soul was written by Horatio G. Spafford (1828-1888), a Presbyterian layman from Chicago, from a place of tremendous tragedies.

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

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

It is well (it is well)
With my soul (with my soul)
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. (Horatio G. Spafford)