My bark is wafted to the strand
By breath Divine;
And on the helm there rests a hand
Other than mine.
O, lonely tomb in Moab's land,
O, dark Bethpeor's hill,
Speak to these curious hearts of ours,
And teach them to be still!
God hath His mysteries of grace—
Ways that we cannot tell;
He hides them deep, like the secret sleep,
Of him He loved so well.
Let us always remember that God has never promised to supply our wishes, but only our wants, and these only as they arise from day to day.
The sentences in the book of providence are sometimes long, and you must read a great way before you understand their meaning.
Sometimes providences, like Hebrew letters, must be read backwards.
God works in a mysterious way in grace as well as in nature, concealing His operations under an imperceptible succession of events, and thus keeps us always in the darkness of faith.
