Monday, March 14, 2011

God Is With Us In Storms of Sorrow

I think I'm too stunned by the earthquake and tsunami in Japan to post much of anything today. Ecclesiastes says there's a time for everything, and to me, this is a time to be silent. Respect. Yes, respect for the many losses, respect for man's frailty, respect for the overwhelming power of nature that snaps skyscrapers like toothpicks and washes away boats and cars like ping pong balls. Reverance for God . . .
The poem below is a favorite that I go to when things happen which I don't understand. Sometimes I'll include it in a sympathy card. It seems appropriate for today, so I hope it'll become one of your favorites, too.

by: William Cowper (1731-1800)

GOD moves in a mysterious way,
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 sov'reign 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.

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 ev'ry hour;
The bud may have a bitter taste,
But sweet will be the flow'r.

Blind unbelief is sure to err,
And scan his work in vain;
God is his own interpreter,
And he will make it plain.


  1. The poem for today is a favorite hymn in our Methodist Hymnal. It is a beautiful poem and you chose well for such a situation. Thank you for your pieces each day. They bring comfort and encouragement.

  2. The bud may have baiter taste,but sweet will be the flower.
    These words were given to me many years ago when someone who I thought I loved was tragically taken away.It is only now that this came to mind,how the flower was so sweet,when God brought Jake into my life.Who knows what will become of the 'bud' I now look at.Thanks for this reminder.

  3. Happenings in Japan are truly overwhelming. The Cowper poem you post here is one of my favorite comforts.


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