The Believer is a silly sheep. What a precious thing is a shepherd and how precious are green pastures and still waters! The Believer is like a desolate woman. What a precious thing is a husband who shall provide for her and shall console and cherish her. The Believer is a pilgrim and the hot sun beats on him. What a precious thing is the shadow of a great rock in a weary land. The Believer is a bond-slave by nature. What a precious thing is the trumpet of jubilee and the ransom price that sets him free. The Believer, by nature, is a sinking, drowning man. How precious to him is that plank of Free Grace, the Cross of Christ, on which he puts his poor trembling hands and secures Glory! But what more shall I say? Time would fail me to tell of all the needs of the Believer and of the all-abounding and ever-flowing streams of love that flow from Christ, the Fountain who fills the Believer to the brim! O say, you children of God, is He not while you are in these lowlands of need and suffering, inconceivably, unutterably, superlatively precious to you?

– Charles Spurgeon –