God moves in a mysterious way His wonders to perform;
He plants His footsteps in the sea and rides upon the storm.
That’s the first stanza of a poem attributed to William Cowper. Subsequent stanzas declare:
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.