Saturday, June 27, 2009

June 27, 2009 When Peace Like A River...

I made this papercut for a cousin who just opened a store not far from our home. This was her "Grand Opening" gift, which happened to match PERFECTLY with the colors of her new shop. Yay!

Auguri, G ed A!!!

This cut is called When Peace Like A River. For some reason, I have often found myself feeling close to God in the embrace of the nature He created. While trying to decide on a title for this one, I sat observing the bench, wishing I could be in it, just observing, soaking in the peace. So, that is how the title came about.

I was reminded of the old hymn with the same words in it. May they speak to your soul, and comfort you and bring you peace. May your heart be open to drawing closer to God, so that He can draw closer to you. :-)

"This hymn was writ­ten af­ter two ma­jor trau­mas in Spaf­ford’s life. The first was the great Chi­ca­go Fire of Oc­to­ber 1871, which ru­ined him fi­nan­cial­ly (he had been a weal­thy bus­i­ness­man). Short­ly af­ter, while cross­ing the At­lan­tic, all four of Spaf­ford’s daugh­ters died in a col­li­sion with an­o­ther ship. Spaf­ford’s wife Anna sur­vived and sent him the now fa­mous tel­e­gram, “Saved alone.” Sev­er­al weeks lat­er, as Spaf­ford’s own ship passed near the spot where his daugh­ters died, the Ho­ly Spir­it in­spired these words. They speak to the eter­nal hope that all be­liev­ers have, no mat­ter what pain and grief be­fall them on earth."

It Is Well With My Soul

When peace, like a river, attendeth my way,
When sorrows like sea billows roll;
Whatever my lot, Thou has taught me to say,
It is well, it is well, with my soul.


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.


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!


For me, be it Christ, be it Christ hence to live:
If Jordan above me shall roll,
No pang shall be mine, for in death as in life
Thou wilt whisper Thy peace to my soul.


But, Lord, ‘tis for Thee, for Thy coming we wait,
The sky, not the grave, is our goal;
Oh trump of the angel! Oh voice of the Lord!
Blessèd hope, blessèd rest of my soul!


And 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.



LJ said...

have you heard the music history program on you would likely be very intereted.

perilloparodies said...

LJ, thank you so much for passing along the info. it sounds fascinating, and I will look into it. :-) Thank you for stopping by.

have a great day...

出張ホスト said...
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