George Matheson was a Scotish minister and hymn writer. Early on he was told by doctors that he was going blind and that there was nothing that could be done to stop the blindness. Despite that grim prognosis, he resolved to press on with his ministerial studies. Engaged to be married at the time, his fiancee determined that she couldn't go through with the marriage. She simply didn't want to be married to a blind man. George's sister became his primary helper at that point - and his sister helped him complete his studies and begin his ministry.
Some years later, his sister got married. When that happened, George felt that he was all alone. On the evening before his sister's wedding, he wrote a hymn that we still sing today. The hymn is called O Love That Wilt Not Let Me Go. The hymn celebrates God's sure and steady love. Matheson claimed later that he wrote the hymn in about five minutes. He couldn't explain precisely how it happened, but he said that the hymn was simply there in his mind and heart. The hymn grew out of a time of deep grief.
The third verse of the hymn is my favorite:
O Joy that seekest me through pain,
I cannot close my heart to thee;
I trace the rainbow through the rain,
and feel the promise is not vain
that morn shall tearless be.
What I love most about those words is the acknowledgement of both the rain and the rainbow. By all accounts, George Matheson lived a hard life - and he was quite honest about his pain. He knew all about rain. But he was just as certain about the presence of rainbows. With spiritual sight alone, he could trace the rainbow and look forward to a tearless morning. He knew what it was to trust God's promises on the mountaintops and in the valleys. And his hymn is a testimony to a strong and abiding faith.
I'm often amazed when I read about the lives of great hymn writers - and discover that they typically lived with deep pain.
And their pain gives birth to words that still encourage us today.
I'm not all that drawn to people who don't know about the rain. But give me somebody who knows about rain - and can still talk about rainbows! I'll listen to that person all day long . . .
I'm often amazed when I read about the lives of great hymn writers - and discover that they typically lived with deep pain.
And their pain gives birth to words that still encourage us today.
I'm not all that drawn to people who don't know about the rain. But give me somebody who knows about rain - and can still talk about rainbows! I'll listen to that person all day long . . .