Mother's favourite- God Works in a Mysterious Way
Yesterday in one of our several car journeys, my mother turned up the volume on the CD playing and said "Araba listen". Then along with the choristers blaring through the car's speakers, she sang with motherly bliss:
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 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.
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 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.
The profundity in each verse left me thinking deeply into how William Cowper came to compose this song, whereas the vulnerability of each word inadvertently broke my heart. It broke my heart for several reasons.
I'm currently in a season of silence with God. Not quiet, silence. Brent Baker states that:
'Quiet is the whispering wind; silence is the muggy absence of it. Quiet often creates peace; silence creates anxiety. Quiet requires seeking and discovering; silence requires waiting and surrender. Silence is empty. Silence is worrying. Silence is uncontrollable. Silence is a vacuous. Silence suggests a noise or voice is desired and expected but isn’t coming. Silence suggests the absence of something capable of responding. A desire unmet. An invitation unrequited. There is a relational feel (or absence) to silence. Silence is difficult.
And I couldn't agree more. I confess trying to fill the void of silence with several things to my detriment, because silence is difficult. Impatience is engulfing when there is no answer. When all joy is stripped away one looks for it all places even the darkest of places and boy have I looked hard, but still there is silence. And each deafening day of silence is one day more i can't hear anything but the shattering of my heart.
I asked my mother for the name of the hymn and she gave it to me - GOD WORKS IN MYSTERIOUS WAYS. I thought, cliché. So I looked up the hymn and read on William Cowper. Turns out all joy was stripped from him also and he sought to find it at the bottom of the Thames River till God did indeed work in a mysterious way and saved his life. This was his last hymn and one he wrote having experienced the darkest of times.
That gives me hope. So with trembling voice and broken heart, I sing this song in hope to hear, my Father's voice soon and near. For God alone my soul waits in silence, from him comes my salvation. He alone is my rock and my salvation, my fortress; I shall not be greatly shaken. - Psalm 62:1-2
And may I be constantly reminded of his words in John 13:7- 'What I am doing you do not understand now, but you will know after this.'