Nineteenth-century preacher Frederick W. Robertson pastored a church in Brighton, England. Although he was a great pulpiteer, he was troubled by fear of failure. He suffered from painful physical ailments and died at 37.

In his loneliest times Robertson often found some consolation in the works of Shakespeare, Wordsworth, and Coleridge. Yet even these great writers left him increasingly unsatisfied, prompting him to write, “I go into the country to feel God; dabble in chemistry to feel awe of Him; read the life of Christ, to understand, love, and adore Him.” Robertson concluded with these words: “I turn with disgust from everything to Christ.”

God may spare us from Robertson’s emotional and bodily suffering. He may give us many fullfilling years so that we can say, “My cup runs over” (Ps. 23:5). But no matter what, we should increasingly identify with those beautiful words of Bernard of Clairvaux who wrote in the 12th century:

Jesus, Thou Joy of loving hearts,
Thou Fount of life, Thou Light of men,
From the best bliss that earth imparts
We turn unfilled to Thee again.

Yes, Christ alone is the Water that quenches our parched spirit. He alone is the Bread that nourishes our hungry heart. He alone is the Truth that answers our mind’s deepest questionings.

Real soul-satisfaction is found only in Christ.