God Moves in a Mysterious Way
God moves in a mys-ter-ious way
His won-ders to per-form;
He plants His foot-steps in the sea
And rides up-on the storm.
Deep in un-fa-thom-ab-le mines
Of nev-er fail-ing skill
He trea-sures up His bright de-signs
And works His sov-ereign will.
Ye fear-ful saints, fresh cour-age take;
The clouds ye so much dread
Are big with mer-cy and shall break
In bles-sings on your head.
Judge not the Lord by fee-ble sense,
But trust Him for His grace;
Be-hind a frown-ing prov-i-dence
He hides a smil-ing face.
His pur-pos-es will rip-en fast,
Un-fold-ing ev-ery hour;
The bud may have a bit-ter taste,
But sweet will be the flower.
Blind un-be-lief is sure to err
And scan His work in vain;
God is His own in-ter-pre-ter,
And He will make it plain.