The Price of Victory

A Voice from Eternity: Sermon 11: The Price of Victory

By George Kulp


      "And he said, Thus saith the Lord, Make this valley full of ditches. For thus saith the Lord, Ye shall not see wind, neither shall ye see rain; yet that valley shall be filled with water, that ye may drink, both ye, and your cattle, and your beasts.

      "And this is but a slight thing in the sight of the Lord: He will deliver the Moabites also into your hand.

      "And ye shall smite every fenced city, and every choice city, and shall fell every good tree, and stop all wells of water, and mar every good piece of land with stones.

      "And it came to pass." 2 Kings 3:16-20

When Commodore Peary was ill the Arctic regions, pushing his way toward the North Pole, he supposed one day that he had made an advance of ten miles, but, in reality, he had lost two, for while he was advancing, the ice over which he was walking had floated twelve miles toward the south. He discovered his error when he looked up and scanned the heavens. Let us get our eyes off of preachers, off of folks and sur roundings, and fix them on God -- then every soul will ascertain his real relation; each one will be located, and God will be glorified in this service.

God commands history to be written that we may know the lessons He has taught in the past, and that we may learn by the experience of others. "These things were written that through patience and comfort of the Scriptures we might have hope, and they' are profitable for admonition, for exhortation, and for instruction in righteousness." The chapter from which our text is taken has in it a splendid lesson for the perfecting of the saints, that is well worthy of our study.

Ahab, the king of Israel, had conquered Moab and ruled them with an iron hand, compelling them to bring yearly tribute of an hundred thousand lambs, and an hundred thousand rams, with the wool. Upon the death of Ahab, Moab rebelled against the king of Israel, and Jehu am, the successor of Ahab, numbered Israel for battle. He also invited Jehoshaphat, the king of Judah, to go with him against Moab, who acceded to the request, saying: "My people are as thy people, and my horses as thy horses." Edom also united his forces with these, and these three armies marched, fetching a compass of a seven days' journey through the wilderness of Edom, and coming to a place where there was no water for the host, nor for the cattle that followed them.

Seeing the danger that threatened them, Israel's king asked: "Has God brought these three kings together to deliver them into the hand of Moab?" But Jehoshaphat, the pious king of Judah, inquired: "Is there not here a prophet of the Lord, that we may inquire of the Lord by him?" And one of the king of Israel's servants answered: "Here is Elisha, the son of Shaphat, which poured water on the hands of Elijah," and Jehoshaphat said: "He has the blessing; let us consult him," and these three kings in their distress went to inquire of a man who knew God, "How may we gain the victory?" Elisha believed in separation. When he saw the worldly, idolatrous king of Israel, he said: "What have I to do with thee? Get thee to the prophets of thy father, and to the prophets of thy mother. As the Lord liveth, before whom I stand, were it not that I regard the presence of Jehoshaphat, I would not look toward thee." Preachers who truckle to wealth and position, D. D.'s and LL. D.'s, might well learn a lesson from this old prophet whose only title was "a man of God."

"Thus saith the Lord," said he, "make this valley full of ditches, for thus saith the Lord, Ye shall not see wind, neither shall ye see rain, yet this valley shall be filled with water that ye may drink, both ye and your cattle and your beasts."

We desire, by the help of the Holy Spirit, to call your attention to the lessons in this chapter, for our mutual instruction and encouragement. These kings desired victory, and God gave them the terms in a command: "Make this valley full of ditches." In other words, "If you want the victory, there is something for you to do -- get to digging." God could have slain the Moabites and not used men. He is not scant in His resources, nor confined to one way of working. He could have harnessed the lightnings and as grim messengers of death have sent them on His errands, He could have thundered in the heavens, and, as aforetime, hurled great stones against Moab's ranks. He could have used the hornets and, as the Turks in after years were defeated by the bees, so Moab could have been hurried to destruction. He could have sent an angel, as He did to the hosts of Assyria when one hundred and eight-five thousand corpses strewed the plain before Jerusalem; but to teach men lessons of trust and dependence, He makes them factors in the work and says: "Make this valley full of ditches. Here are the terms of victory; get to work."

The Fourth Season

On Keeping the Heart: Chapter 6 

By John Flavel


      IV. The fourth season, requiring our utmost diligence to keep our hearts, is the time of danger and public distraction. In such times the best hearts are too apt to be surprised by slavish fear. If Syria be confederate with Ephraim, how do the hearts of the house of David shake, even as the trees of the wood which are shaken with the wind. When there are ominous signs in the heavens, or the distress of nations with perplexity, the sea and the waves roaring; then the hearts of men fail for fear, and for looking after those things which are coming on the earth. Even a Paul may sometimes complain of "fightings within, when there are fears without."

But, my brethren, these things ought not so to be; saints should be of a more elevated spirit; so was David when his heart was kept in a good frame: "The Lord is my light and my salvation, whom shall I fear? The Lord is the strength of my life, of whom shall I be afraid?" Let none but the servants of sin be the slaves of fear; let them that have delighted in evil fear evil. Let not that which God has threatened as a judgment upon the wicked, ever seize upon the hearts of the righteous. " I will send faintness into their hearts in the land of their enemies, and the sound of a shaking leaf shall chase them." What poor spirited men are those, to fly at a shaking leaf! A leaf makes a pleasant, not a terrible noise; it makes indeed a kind of natural music: but to a guilty conscience even the whistling leaves are drums and trumpets! "But God has not given us the spirit of fear, but of love and of a sound mind." A sound mind, as it stands there in opposition to fear, is an unwounded conscience not weakened by guilt: and this should make a man as bold as a lion. I know it cannot be said of a saint, as God said of leviathan, that he is made without fear; there is a natural fear in every man, and it is as impossible to remove it wholly, as to remove the body itself. Fear is perturbation of the mind, arising from the apprehension of approaching danger; and as long as dangers can approach us, we shall find some perturbations within us. It is not my purpose to commend to you a stoical apathy, nor yet to dissuade you from such a degree of cautionary preventive fear as may fit you for trouble and be serviceable to your soul. There is a provident fear that opens our eyes to foresee danger, and quickens us to a prudent and lawful use of means to prevent it: such was Jacob's fear, and such his prudence when expecting to meet his angry brother Esau. But it is the fear of diffidence, from which I would persuade you to keep your heart; that tyrannical passion which invades the heart in times of danger, distracts, weakens and unfits it for duty, drives men upon unlawful means, and brings a snare with it.

Now let us inquire how a Christian may keep his heart from distracting and tormenting fears in times of great and threatening dangers. There are several excellent rules for keeping the heart from sinful fear when imminent dangers threaten us:

1. Look upon all creatures as in the hand of God, who manages them in all their motions, limiting, restraining and determining them at his pleasure. Get this great truth well settled by faith in your heart, and it will guard you against slavish fears. The first chapter of Ezekiel contains an admirable draught of Providence: there you see the living creatures who move the wheels (that is, the great revolutions of things here below) coming unto Christ, who sits upon the throne, to receive new instructions from him. In Revelations, 6th chapter, you read of white, black, and red horses, which are but the instruments God employs in executing judgments in the world, as wars, pestilence, and death. When these horses are prancing and trampling up and down in the world, here is a consideration that may quiet our hearts; God has the reins in his hand. Wicked men are sometimes like mad horses, they would stamp the people of God under their feet, but that the bridle of Providence is in their mouths. A lion at liberty is terrible to meet, but who is afraid of a lion in the keeper's hand?

Subjected... In Hope

By T. Austin-Sparks


      "For the creation was subjected to vanity, not of its own will, but by reason of him who subjected it, in hope that the creation itself also shall be delivered from the bondage of corruption into the liberty of the glory of the children of God" (Romans 8:20,21).

'The creation was subjected to vanity... in hope...' It is impressive that, although the writer of this letter set out, in the first instance, to reveal a state of utter hopelessness, which he very thoroughly does in the first chapters, the letter itself is strewn with this word hope. Beginning with Abraham, it says: 'Who... against hope, hopefully believed' (4:18); again, 'we rejoice in hope of the glory of God' (5:2); 'patience worketh experience, and experience hope; and hope maketh not ashamed' (5:4,5) 'the creation was subjected... in hope...' (8:20); 'rejoicing in hope; patient in tribulation; continuing instant in prayer' (12:12); 'that through patience... we might have hope...' (15:4); 'Now, the God of hope fill you... that ye may abound in hope...' (15:13). The letter abounds with this word hope, although it set out to show how hopeless everything really was.

Now here is this statement: 'The creation was subjected to vanity'. If you like to change the word there, you would be quite right in changing it to 'hopelessness' - 'the creation was subjected to hopelessness'. A later version puts the word 'futility' there, which I think is a very good translation: 'the creation was subjected to futility... in hope...'; 'to hopelessness... in hope'; 'to vanity... in hope'. A deliberate act of God is this. We will gather it all up in this way: The Law of Vanity, or Futility; the Law of Hope; the Way and the End of Hope.

The Law of Futility

Why did God deliberately act - for it says '...by reason of Him who subjected it...' - why did God deliberately act to bring the whole creation under this law and reign of futility? I am not staying to enlarge upon the fact of futility or vanity; we may say something about it as we go on. But it is the fact that it is an established law; it is something in the very constitution of things, this something called 'vanity' or 'futility'. Why did God establish that law?

(a) God's Purpose for Himself

Well, His act related to three things. Firstly, it related to God's purpose for Himself: for He created all things for Himself, and, in creating all things, He had a personal object in view. All things were to derive their value and benefit from His having what His heart was set upon - it is always like that. God, then, had in view something for Himself, and that something was to have a place for Himself in honour, in pleasure, and in complete satisfaction. The Bible gathers itself entirely around that one, primary, supreme thought - God having a place for Himself in His creation, amongst men: a place where He can come; where He can walk; where He can talk; where He can be received with pleasure, and acknowledged with the heart; where, without grief, without restraint, without reserve, He can just be free to dwell with men. He made all things for that. And when He had made all things, and pronounced them very good, God walked in the garden, in the cool of the day, and we are led to believe that He came to converse, to have fellowship, to enjoy Himself, to find His pleasure there. 'The Lord God planted a garden...', and did not leave it, but came to it, to the man in it, for fellowship. That runs through the whole Bible.

But, you see what happened. God's place was given to another - a rival and a rebel. Man gave God's place to another, and God withdrew. And because that thought of God, that purpose of God, that He should have a place for Himself, as the all-governing thing in this whole creation and universe, was set aside, God said: The very object of the creation has been removed, has been ruled out, has been violated; the whole creation must be subjected to futility. It is the natural, the logical outworking: when purpose ceases, that is futility; when governing purpose is set aside, what is it but vanity? God moves in purpose, firstly for Himself, to have a place. When He no longer finds His pleasure and His satisfaction, a state of vanity and futility enters in; nothing goes right, nothing realises its destiny and its calling.

Curiosity

By Basilea Schlink


      Curiosity is different from being interested in something. Being interested is something good. Curiosity is something bad. Curious people usually look at things and listen to things that are not meant for them. Typically they read letters and notes on other people's desks, that were not meant for their eyes. Or they listen to some-thing not meant for their ears, but told confidentially to someone else. Curious people "poke their noses" into everything and make it difficult for others to live with them. They ruin community life, which is based upon trust, because they insist upon knowing everything that is going on. And they constantly seek to find out things about others. If this yearning to know things is so strong in us, there is something sinful behind it.

Curious people should ask themselves what their motives are. For instance, if they are always curious, it may be their desire for attention. Pretending to be important, they pass on their newly-gained information to others when it is not right, they talk about things in the wrong place, and they destroy the relationship of mutual confidence for the sake of being the centre of attention. If they are only curious about one person or a few people-if a mother secretly reads her daughter's diary or her children's letters about their friendships-then it probably stems from jealousy or the thirst for power. They want to pry into the secrets of others. They are hurt if they do not get to know everything and consequently they ask questions, directly or through others. They want to know everything in order to keep the other person under their control. Certainly justified concern can be one of the motives for such behaviour, but discovering things secretly is never the way to form or maintain a relationship of mutual confidence.

Sometimes mistrust is behind curiosity; or the root may be lack of discipline when confronted with sensual attractions. They are so eager to hear something new or something intimate that they overrun all ethical and moral boundaries to satisfy their curiosity. Due to this lack of discipline curious people are often driven to reading lewd literature or watching bad television programmes. If they happen to see something "by chance", they have to keep watching, just because they think they have to know what is being shown. Without their realizing it, poison can flow into their thoughts and hearts.

Because curiosity is a vice, a sin, curious people often find that God punishes them in the act. For instance, they may hear something that provokes their jealousy and then they react meanly. Or they read something that is not meant for them and do not understand the context. So they draw false conclusions, burden others unnecessarily, and spread rumours.

In all this the curious become guilty. They trespass especially against the seventh commandment. For if I have listened to or read things that do not belong to me, I have become a thief; I have stolen intellectual material, which is often much more important than material possessions. If these possessions are gained dishonestly, this can hurt others more than anything else. If someone is harmed by the curiosity of another, he sometimes finds that what he had guarded as his property is now trampled under foot by others. Curious people, therefore, are thieves, who harm others in very delicate matters, by robbing them of the possessions of their spirit and soul.

This sin is therefore against the seventh commandment. Just like every other sin against our neighbour, it will bring us Gods judgment, if we persist in it. Sin always provokes God's anger, especially when it appears in Christians who know about Jesus' sacrificial death and His redemption and still dare to live in their old sins without fighting against them. If we confront this truth soberly, we will realize that we cannot continue to live with this sin. We have to begin a real battle of faith. So when we are tempted to read shameful literature or do similar things out of curiosity, we must realize that this mania can very quickly lead us into "enemy's territory", especially in our days. Then we would be like a child who goes into a forest without protection in order to see what's there and is then attacked by wild beasts.

Furthermore we must realize that it is Satan who incites us to discover new things and to know and hear what we actually should not. If we give in to our curiosity, we have fallen into his trap and he laughs at us scornfully, because he succeeded in making us sin and become guilty towards others. We must confront curiosity as a sin and not tolerate it any more in our lives. We have to be consistent in avoiding certain places, certain books and other things that our curiosity wants to drive us to. Furthermore, if we looked at or listened to something that was not meant for us, it would be advantageous for us to confess it immediately. That will make us humble and prevent us from trying to satisfy our curiosity so quickly again, because we try to avoid humiliations.

Jesus has come to redeem us from all sin, even from the sin of curiosity. Whoever calls upon Him will be saved. So we must do that and honour Jesus by not persisting in a single sin, not even in this sin which seems so small to us, because if we do, we will be disgracing Jesus, who died to free us from our sins.

Mary and Martha

By J.G. Bellet


      Luke 10: 10: 38-42.

The little scene which closes this chapter is peculiar to Luke, serving his general purpose of instructing us in great principles of truth. The two sisters here introduced were differently minded; and, being brought to the trial of the mind of Christ, we get the judgment of God on matter of much value to us.

The house which we now enter was Martha's. The Spirit of God tells us this, as being characteristic of Martha; and into her house, with all readiness of heart, she receives the Lord, and prepares for Him the very best provision it had. His labours and fatigue called for this. Martha well knew that His ways abroad were the ways of the good Samaritan, who would go on foot that others might ride, and she loves Him too well not to observe and provide for His weariness. But Mary had no house for Him. She was, in spirit, a stranger like Himself; but she opens a sanctuary for Him, and seats Him there, the Lord of her humble temple. She takes her place at His feet, and hears His words. She knows, as well as Martha, that He was wearied: but she knows also that there was a fulness in Him that could afford to be more wearied still. Her ear and her heart, therefore, still use Him, instead of her hand or her foot ministering to Him. And in these things lay the difference between the sisters. Martha's eye saw His weariness, and would give to Him; Mary's faith apprehended His fulness underneath His weariness, and would draw from Him.

This brings out the mind of the Son of God. The Lord accepts the care of Martha as long as it is simple care and diligence about His present need; but the moment she brings her mind into competition with Mary's she learns His judgment, and is taught to know that Mary, by her faith, was refreshing Him with a far sweeter feast than all her care and the provision of her house could possibly have supplied. Mary's faith gave Jesus a sense of His own divine glory. It told Him, that though He was the wearied One, He could still feed and refresh her. She was at His feet, hearing His words. There was no temple there, or light of the sun; but the Son of God was there, and He was everything to her. This was the honour He prized, and blessedly indeed was she in His secret. When He was thirsty and tired at Jacob's well, He forgot it all in giving out other waters, which no pitcher could have held, or well beside His own supplied; and here Mary brings her soul to the same well, knowing that, in spite of all His weariness, it was as full as ever for her use.

And oh, dear brethren, what principles are here disclosed to us! Our God is asserting for Himself the place of supreme power and supreme goodness, and He will have us debtors to Him. Our sense of His fulness is more precious to Him than all the service we can render Him. Entitled, as He is, to more than all creation could give Him, yet above all things does He desire that we should use His love, and draw from His treasures. The honour which our confidence puts upon Him is His highest honour; for it is the divine glory to be still giving, still blessing, still pouring forth from unexhausted fulness. Under the law He had to receive from us, but in the gospel He is giving to us; and the words of the Lord Jesus are these: "It is more blessed to give than to receive." And this place He will fill for ever; for, "without all contradiction, the less is blessed of the better." Praise shall, it is true, arise to Him from everything that hath breath; but forth from Himself, and from the seat of His glory, shall go the constant flow of blessing, the light to cheer, the waters to refresh, and the leaves of the tree to heal; and our God shall taste His own joy, and display His own glory, in being a Giver for ever. J. G. B.

Christian Friend vol. 14, 1887, p. 191.

Self-Possession

By John Henry Jowett


      "In your patience ye shall possess your souls."--Luke xxi. 19.

To possess one's soul is an infinitely grander thing than to possess some magnificent estate. There is many a man who owns thousands of broad acres who has never owned the fair realm of his own soul. Ask him for an inventory of his estate, and he will produce one recording the contents of every nook and corner in his wide domain. Ask him for an inventory of his soul! Ask him what sacred powers he has in the world within, and what control he has of them, and whether there is peace and harmony in that mysterious Kingdom! He can record his wealth in personality; ask him what treasures he has in personality! In what measure does he possess his own soul? There is something grimly ironical in a man owning many things and yet not owning himself. He has gained the world; he has never gained his own soul.

Now the secret of self-possession is to be found in Christ. It is through Him that we discover our souls. We find ourselves in finding Him. Our wealth of being is unveiled to us in the measure in which we enter into the revelation of His glory. Our endowments troop out at the call of His communion. The deeper our communion the wealthier is the response. The finer the climate the more luxurious is the growth. We never know how much there is in us until we are discovering how much there is in Christ. Our powers remain like sleeping seeds until "the heavenly air is breathing round."

We do not come into these possessions in a day. The title-deeds may be ours in a moment. They become ours by faith in the living Christ, and they are handed to us in the moment when faith is born. But every day of faithful walking with the Lord brings us more and more into the possession of our spiritual estates, as every day we have new surprises in "the unsearchable riches in Christ." Therefore "in your patience ye shall possess your souls."

Ye are My Friends

By J.B. Stoney


      THE Lord says to His disciples, "I call you not servants; for the servant knoweth not what his lord doeth: but I have called you friends; for all things that I have heard of my Father I have made known unto you," John 15:15.

The evidence or mark, then, of being His friend, and not merely a servant, is that I know what my Lord does, and that I have received a knowledge of His mind. He is a servant who does not know his lord's mind; he is a friend who knows the mind of Christ. If the Lord communicates His mind to me, He regards me as His friend. If He does not communicate His mind to me, I am, however devoted, no higher than a servant. To be a friend to anyone, I must necessarily take an interest in his concerns. It is in the assurance that I have this interest that I can be regarded as a friend, or can care to be one.

But if the one who accepts me as his friend is greatly superior to me, it is evident that I must grow into ability and appreciation of his order of things before he can either treat me as a friend, or I myself be equal to the duties of one. The higher the duties imposed on a friend, the more unselfish he must be, and the more at liberty to give himself to these duties. For the duties are not a tax, but the pleasing activities of friendship.

No one can, then, be called by Christ 'My friend' unless he has first been befriended by Christ; unless he has been so entirely relieved and comforted in his own heart that he now finds it his duty and happiness to devote himself to the One who has afforded to his soul boundless rest and peace. If I know the rest and blessedness which He unfolds to the soul believing on Him and walking in His ways, I cannot but live Him. I elect to live what I enjoy. I must first enjoy Christ as my life before I shall in any degree bear witness of Him. Very often earnest souls begin the other way; they try to bear witness of Him in order that they may enjoy Him; but while the effort is to enjoy Him, there must be a seeking one's own things.

One's own spiritual enjoyment is before the mind and thoughts, and this circumscribes one to the limits of oneself, instead of imparting the ability to enter into the extent and fullness of Christ's heart and purposes. The things of Christ may occupy me, and yet the thought uppermost in my mind may be my own enjoyment in Christ; and though with this state there may be a good deal of interesting devotedness and zeal, yet the object is not Christ. Contrast this state with that of one who, enjoying Christ, knowing Him as the only resource for the heart, occupies himself with every interest and concern of Christ here. All his gain and all he enjoys is in Christ, who is absent.

Hence he links himself with every interest of His in this scene through which he is passing. The joy of his heart is to be a witness in it of Him who is the rest of his own heart, outside and apart from it. If the absent Christ is the rest and strength and comfort of my heart above and beyond everything in this world, surely the only suited and natural place for me -- my heart claims it of me as His love requires it - is that I should be here for Him, His interests my interest. If I live with Him outside of this scene, it is necessary and incumbent on me to live for Him while passing through it.

 John 14 unfolds to me how Christ absent is the strength and comfort of my heart. Faith and love each reach a consummation satisfying to the heart in that wondrous chapter. Here is opened out to me my present blessedness in Him. When I know Him thus -- every element of comfort and strength being supplied, my soul by the Spirit being the abode of the Father -- I have nothing to seek. I know "the love of the Christ which surpasses knowledge"; I am "filled even to all the fullness of God".

If I have nothing to seek for myself, and if Christ is the resource and strength of my heart, surely nothing can interest me here but His things. Then I truly take my place in John 15; this chapter is then my external history, as John 14 is my internal. I am here for Christ, for my heart rests in Him; and as walking here for Him according to His commandments, He calls me not servant but friend. It is a special favour connected with testimony.

The one great distinct mark of Christ's confidence in a soul is the communication to it of His mind. It is one only known to the witness. In John 14 He is my friend; He satisfies my heart in the fullness of His love and power. But as here for Him He calls me His friend, He communicates His mind to me; I am made to know what my Lord does, which a servant does not know.

The Malady of Not Wanting

 

By John Henry Jowett


      "Woe unto you that are full."--Luke vi. 25.

SOME of our Saviour's severest words were spoken to just this sort of people. The people had no sense of want. They were fully contented. Their journey was ended, and they had arrived at their goal. There was nothing alluring them which was still beyond their reach. There was no urging hunger for the beyond. Desire was dead. They were full! When they looked upon the Master they had no vision of untraversed worlds. There was no beauty that they should desire Him. They saw nothing they wanted. Now, people of this kind were the gravest problems with which our Lord had to deal. He could light the smouldering lamp of a poor publican, who, in his dejection, would not so much as lift his eyes to heaven. And he could recover some poor woman who was a sinner, and who stood before him in aching silence. But who can pour wine into a full cup? Who can place treasure in a locked hand? Who can teach those who know everything? Who can save the righteous? "Woe unto you that are full!"

"The ill of all ills is the lack of desire." So sings Faber, and we can test ourselves whether or not that greatest ill is lodged in our own life. All we have to do is to get into the Presence of Jesus Christ. Have we any sense of want when we stand before Him? Have we any sharp conviction of poverty? Is there anything in our souls which resembles the stricken feeling of utter crudeness which afflicts some amateur artist when he brings his own works among the finished works of a great master? Is there any height, or depth, or breadth which stagger us in their range? Is there any holiness glistening far above us like virgin snow on Alpine heights? Is there any love, stronger than sin, or death, or hell? Is there any grace, invincible as granite, and yet tender as the violet that nestles in a cleft of the granite? When we stand before our Saviour have we any sense of awful want? Have we any vision of unsearchable riches? Or are we full, and we want none of it? Do we say, "Soul, thou hast much goods laid up! Take thine ease?" Then our satisfaction is the ominous sign of spiritual death. Woe unto you that are full.

"Blessed are ye that hunger now!" But suppose we do not hunger, and we know we do not? Well, we can take sides against ourselves. We can set our wills against our own desireless hearts. We can force ourselves upon our knees in the Presence of the Lord whose grace and beauty we do not crave. We can tell Him we have no fire in our grate, and we know it, and that the pity is we have scarcely any desire for it. And we can say to Him, "Thou seest how great is my need of Thee!" We can present our desireless hearts for His recreating grace. And what will happen? "In the wilderness shall waters break out and streams in the desert." And some day, and perhaps very soon, the desire-less heart which is thus offered to the Lord shall break out in singing, "Whom have I in heaven but Thee, and there is none upon the earth that I desire beside Thee."