It is Well

It rained most of today...the first day of March.  And even 6 years later, the mention of today's date still makes me cringe a little because it marked the end of something big in my life.  The end of hearing Jeremiah's voice, the end of anticipating his home-coming from so many months away, the end of his animated laughing and whooping. 

As this date approached this year, I found myself thinking about it--about him--a lot more than I usually do. The car rides, tea parties, game nights, and river swims that will never happen together again feel like only a moment ago...and yet also like a thousand years in the past. I imagined my 7 year-old self jumping off the arm of the couch into his arms when he finally returned home or being carried off to bed by him when I'd fallen asleep during the family evening reading...again.  I remember him coming into my room late at night and waking me up so that I could see him as soon as he got back from months in Iraq.
Even though it's been 6 years, tears still meet me on this day and everything seems to go back to March 1, 2012.  My mind replays every detail it can remember from that day and the ones to follow.  They are moments that cut with hurt, but ones that I never want to forget.  It was then that I began to love Iraq a little like Jeremiah had.  Through the hurt, I could never have been more proud of my brother and the calling he fulfilled so well.

It's Thursday...just like March 1st 6 years ago.  On that Thursday morning, I didn't expect to wake up to "Jeremiah's been shot."  I was barely 14, and my life was already turning upside down.  And 6 years ago today, my mind turned to the words of "It is Well" over and over.  In this moment, how could I ever say that all was well with my soul?  The hymn played in my head again and again and I thought "I can't say that.  My soul is not at peace."  I didn't want to let go, and I didn't want to admit that this is what the Christian calling was really about.  I stare through the tears, and I just see God patiently loving me enough for all this hurt.  And sometimes I have to convince myself to be at peace in my very soul because that is the only fitting response to God's purposes in my life.

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 has shed his own blood for 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!

O Lord, haste the day when my faith shall be sight,
the clouds be rolled back as a scroll;
the trump shall resound and the Lord shall descend;
even so, it is well with my soul.