God moves in a mysterious way
His wonders to perform
He plants His footsteps in the sea
And rides upon the storm
Ye fearful saints, fresh courage take
The clouds ye so much dread
Are big with mercy, and shall break
In blessings on your head
Judge not the Lord by feeble sense
But trust Him for His grace
Behind a frowning providence
He hides a smiling face
His purposes will ripen fast
Unfolding every hour
The bud may have a bitter taste
But sweet will be the flower
Blind unbelief is sure to err
And scan His work in vain
God is His own interpreter
And He will make it plain
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Click HERE to read the story of the writing on this hymn.
I see its been over three years since I last blogged here. My other blog on which I post photos gets more of my attention, but I haven't entirely forgotten about this one.
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