The performance omits the fifth verse
| God moves in a mysterious way His wonders to perform; He plants His footsteps in the sea And rides upon the storm. | Judge not the Lord by feeble sense, But trust Him for His grace; Behind a frowning providence He hides a smiling face. |
| Deep in unfathomable mines Of never failing skill He treasures up His bright designs And works His gracious will. | His purposes will ripen fast, Unfolding every hour; The bud may have a bitter taste, But sweet will be the flow’r. |
| Ye fearful saints, fresh courage take; The clouds ye so much dread Are big with mercy and shall break In blessings on your head. | Blind unbelief is sure to err And scan His work in vain; God is His own interpreter, And He will make it plain. |
How beautiful. Fear not, friends. For as the storms rage all around us, God's mighty hands are steadying us. I trust the Lord. I trust His plans.
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