This morning I simply offer you a hymn text to ponder. We sing this text at Hope CBC, and, as can happen when you become familar with a hymn tune, you can sometimes tune out the depth of the meaning of the text. Therefore, I would ask you to make this text a part of your devotional life this week. We will sing it on Sunday as part of our worship to God.
Some background on "God Moves in a Mysterious Way" by William Cowper from Cyberhymnal.org:
Words: William Cowper, in Twenty-six Letters on Religious Subjects, by John Newton,
1774. It is reportedly the last hymn Cowper ever wrote, with a
fascinating (though unsubstantiated) story behind it.
Cowper often struggled with depression and doubt. One night he
decided to commit suicide by drowning himself. He called a cab
and told the driver to take him to the Thames River. However, thick
fog came down and prevented them from finding the river (another
version of the story has the driver getting lost deliberately).
After driving around lost for a while, the cabby finally stopped and
let Cowper out. To Cowper’s surprise, he found himself on his own
doorstep: God had sent the fog to keep him from killing himself. Even
in our blackest moments, God watches over us.
God Moves in a Mysterious Way
God moves in a mysterious way
His wonders to perform;
He plants His footsteps in the sea
And rides upon the storm.
His wonders to perform;
He plants His footsteps in the sea
And rides upon the storm.
Deep in unfathomable mines
Of never failing skill
He treasures up His bright designs
And works His sovereign will.
Of never failing skill
He treasures up His bright designs
And works His sovereign will.
Ye fearful saints, fresh courage take;
The clouds ye so much dread
Are big with mercy and shall break
In blessings on your head.
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.
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.
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.
And scan His work in vain;
God is His own interpreter,
And He will make it plain.
No comments:
Post a Comment