The Question of Fear and the Answer of Faith
A Sermon
(No. 108)
Delivered on Sabbath Evening, August 31, 1856, by the
REV. C.H. SPURGEON
at Exeter Hall, Strand.
"Will he plead against me with his great power? No; but he would put
strength in me."–Job 23:6.
I SHALL not to-night consider the connexion of these words, or what was
particularly intended by Job. I shall use them in, perhaps, another
sense from that which he intended. No doubt Job meant to say, that if
God would allow him to argue his case before him, it was his firm
belief that God, so far from taking advantage of his superior strength
in the controversy, would even strengthen him, that the controversy
might be fair, and that the judgment might be unbiased. "He would not
plead against me with his great strength; no, but he would put strength
in me." We shall use the text, however, to-night, in another sense.
It is one of the sure marks of a lost and ruined state when we are
careless and indifferent concerning God. One of the peculiar marks of
those who are dead in sin is this: they are the wicked who forget God.
God is not in all their thoughts; "The fool hath said in his heart,
there is no God." The sinful man is ever anxious to keep out of his
mind the very thought of the being, the existence, or the character of
God; and so long as man is unregenerate, there will be nothing more
abhorrent to his taste, or his feelings, than anything which deals with
the Divine Being. God perhaps, as Creator, he may consider; but the God
of the Bible, the infinite Jehovah, judging righteously among the sons
of men–condemning and acquitting–that God he has no taste for, he is
not in all his thoughts, nor does he regard him. And mark you, it is a
blessed sign of the work of grace in the heart, when man begins to
consider God. He is not far from God's heart who hath meditations of
God in his own heart. If we desire to seek after God, to know him, to
understand him, and to be at peace with him, it is a sign that God has
dealings with our soul, for otherwise we should still have hated his
name and abhorred his character.
There are two things in my text, both of which have relation to the
Divine Being. The first is, the question of fear: "Will he plead
against me with his great power?" and the second is, the answer of
faith: "No, but he will put strength in me." The fearful and the
prayerful, who are afraid of sin and fear God, together with those who
are faithful and believe in God, are in a hopeful state; and hence,
both the question of the one, and the answer of the other, have
reference to the great Jehovah, our God, who is for ever to be adored.
I. We shall consider, in the first place, to-night THE INQUIRY OF FEAR:
"Will he plead against me with his great power?" I shall consider this
as a question asked by the convinced sinner. He is seeking salvation,
but, when he is bidden to come before his God and find mercy, he is
compelled by his intense anxiety to make the trembling inquiry, "Will
he plead against me with his great power?"
1. And, first, I gather from this question the fact that a truly
penitent sinner has a right idea of many of God's attributes. He does
not understand them all, for instance, he does not yet know God's great
mercy; he does not yet understand his unbounded compassion; but so far
as his knowledge of God extends, he has an extremely correct view of
him. To him the everlasting Jehovah appears GREAT in every attribute,
and action, and supremely GREAT in his Majesty. The poor worldling
knows there is a God; but he is to him a little God. As for the justice
of God, the mere worldly man scarcely ever thinks of it. He considers
that there is a God, but he regards him as a Being who has little
enough respect for justice. Not so, however, the sinner. When God has
once convinced him of his sin, he sees God as a great God, a God of
great justice, and of great power. Whoever can misunderstand God's
great justice or God's great power, a convinced sinner never will. Ask
him what he thinks of God's justice, and he will tell you it like the
great mountains; it is high, he cannot attain unto it. "Ah," saith he,
"God's justice is very mighty; it must smite me. He must hurl an
avalanche of woe upon my devoted head. Justice demands that he should
punish me. I am so great a sinner that I cannot suppose he would ever
pass by my transgression, my iniquity, and my sin." It is all in vain
for you to tell such a man that God is little in his justice; he
replies, "No," most solemnly, "No," and you can most plainly read his
earnestness in his visage, when he replies, "No." He replies, "I feel
that God is just; I am even now consumed by his anger; by his wrath am
I troubled." "Tell me God is not just," says he; "I know he is; I feel
that within an hour or two hell must swallow me up, unless Divine mercy
delivers me. Unless Christ shall wash me in his blood, I feel I can
never hope to stand among the ransomed." He has not that strange idea
of God's justice that some of you have. You think sin is a trifle! You
suppose that one brief prayer will wipe it all away. You dream that by
attendance at your churches and at your chapels, you will wash away
your sins. You suppose that God, for some reason or other, will very
easily forgive your sin. But you have no right idea of God's justice.
You have not learned that God never does forgive until he has first
punished, and that if he does forgive any one, it is because he has
punished Christ first in the stead of that person. But he never
forgives without first exacting the punishment. That would be an
infringement on his justice; and shall not the Judge of all the earth
do right? You have, many of you, lax enough ideas of the justice of the
Divine Being; but not so the sinner who is laboring under a knowledge
of sin.
An awakened soul feels that God is greatly powerful. Tell him that God
is but a weak God, and he will answer you; and shall I tell you what
illustrations he will give you, to prove that God is great in power. He
will say, "Oh, sir, God is great in power as well in justice; look up
yonder: can you not see in the dark past, when rebel angels sinned
against God, they were so mighty that each one of them might have
devastated Eden and shaken the earth. But God, with ease, hurled Satan
and the rebel angels out of heaven, and drove them down to hell."
"Sir," saith the sinner, "is he not mighty?" And then he will go on to
tell you how God unbound the swaddling bands of the great ocean, that
it might leap upon the earth; and how he bade it swallow up the whole
of mortal race, save those who were hidden in the ark. And the sinner
says, with his eyes well nigh starting from their sockets, "Sir, does
not this prove that he is great in power, and will by no means acquit
the wicked?" And then he proceeds, "Look again at the Red Sea; mark how
Pharaoh was enticed into its depths, and how the parted sea, that stood
aloof for awhile to give the Israelites an easy passage, embraced with
eager joy, locked the adverse host within their arms, and swallowed
them up quick;" and as he thinks he sees the Red Sea rolling o'er the
slain, he exclaims, "Sir, God is great in power; I feel he must be,
when I think of what he has done." And as if he had not finished his
oration, and would let us know the whole of the greatness of God's
power, he continues his narration of the deeds of vengeance. "O sir,
remember, he must be great in power, for I know that he hath digged a
hell, which is deep and large, without bottom. He hath made a
Tophet–the pile thereof is fire and much wood, and the breath of the
Lord, like a stream of brimstone, shall kindle it." "Yes, beyond a
doubt," groans the trembling soul, "he must be great in power. I feel
he is, and I feel more than that; I feel that justice has provoked
God's arm of power to smite me, and unless I am covered in that
righteousness of Christ, I shall ere long be dashed to pieces, and
utterly devoured by the fury of his wrath." The sinner, as far as the
harsher attributes of God's nature are concerned, when he is under
conviction, has a very fair and a just idea of the Divine Being,
though, as I have remarked before, not yet understanding the mercy and
the infinite compassion of God towards his covenant people, he has too
harsh a view of God, dwelling only upon the darker side, and not upon
those attributes which shed a more cheering light upon the darkness of
our misery. That is the first truth which I glean from the text.
2. The second truth which I gather from this question, "Will he plead
against me with his great power?" is this: that the trembling sinner
feels that every attribute of God is against him as a sinner. "Oh!" he
will say, "I look to God, and I can see nothing in him but a consuming
fire. I look to his justice, and I see it, with sword unsheathed, ready
to smite me low. I look to his power, and I behold it, like a mighty
mountain, tottering to its fall, to crush me. I look to his
immutability, and methinks I see stern justice written on its brow, and
I hear it cry, Sinner, I will not save, I will condemn thee.' I look to
his faithfulness, and I mark that all his threatenings are as much yea
and amen' as his promises. I look to his love, but even his love
frowns, and accuses me, saying, thou hast slighted me.' I look to his
mercy, but even his mercy launches out the thunderbolt, with accusing
voice, reminding me of my former hardness of heart, and harshly chiding
me thus, Go thou to justice, and glean what thou canst there. I, even
I, am against thee, for thou hast made me wroth!'"
Oh! trembling penitent, where art thou to-night? Somewhere here, I know
thou art. Would to God there were many like thee! I know thou wilt
agree with me in this statement, for thou hast a dread apprehension
that every attribute of the Divine Being's character is armed with fire
and sword to destroy thee. Thou seest all his attributes like heavy
pieces of ordnance, all pointed at thee and ready to be discharged. Oh
that thou mayest find a refuge in Christ! And oh! ye who never were
convinced of sin, let me for one moment lay judgment to the line and
righteousness to the plummet. Know ye this–perhaps ye laugh at
it–that all God's attributes are against you, if you are not in
Christ! If you are not sheltered beneath the wings of Jesus, there is
not one single glorious name of God, nor one celestial attribute, which
does not curse you. What wouldst thou think, if at thy door to-night
there should be planted great pieces of heavy cannon, all loaded, to be
discharged against thee? But dost thou know, that where thou sittest
to-night there are worse than heavy cannons to be discharged at thee?
Yes, I see them, I see them! There is God's justice, and there is the
angel of vengeance, standing with the match, ready to bid it hurl
vengeance at thee. There is his power; there is his bare arm, ready to
break thy bones, and crush thee into powder. There is his love, all
blazing, turned to hate because thou hast rejected it; and there is his
mercy, clad with mail, going forth like a warrior to overthrow thee.
What sayest thou, O sinner, to-night? Against thee all God's attributes
are pointed. He hath bent his bow and made it ready. The sword of the
Lord has been bathed in heaven; it is bright and sharp; it is
furbished. How wilt thou escape, when a mighty arm shall bring it down
upon thee? or how wilt thou flee, when he shall draw his bow and shoot
his arrows at thee, and make thee a mark for all the arrows of his
vengeance? Beware, beware, ye that forget God, lest he tear you in
pieces, and there be none to deliver! For tear you in pieces, he will
yet, unless you shelter in the Rock of Ages, and wash yourselves in the
stream of his wondrous blood. Fly to him, then, ye chief of sinners,
fly. But if ye will not, now ye this, God is against you! He will plead
against thee with his great power, unless thou hast our all-glorious
Jesus to be thine advocate.
3. And just one more hint here. The sinner, when he is labouring on
account of guilt, feels that God would be just if he were to "plead
against him with his great power?" "Oh," saith he, "If I go to God in
prayer, perhaps instead of hearing me he will crush me as I would a
moth." What, soul, would he be just if he did that? "Ay," saith the
sinner, "just, supremely just. Perhaps I shall have stripped myself of
all my ornaments, and like a naked one have flown to him; perhaps then
he will lash me harder than before, and I shall feel it all the worse
for this my nakedness." And will he be just, should the flagellation of
his vengeance fall upon thy shoulders? "Yes," he saith, "infallibly
just." And should he smite thee to the lowest hell, would he be just?
"Yes," saith the penitent, "just, infinitely just. I should have no
word to say against him. I should feel that I deserved it all. My only
question is, not whether he would be just to do it, but will he do it?"
"Will he plead against me with his great power?" This is the question
of fear. Some here, perhaps, are asking that question.
Now let them hear the reply of faith; God give them a good deliverance!
II. THE REPLY OF FAITH IS, "No." O sinner, hear that word, "No;" there
are sonnets condensed into it. "Will he plead against me with his great
power?" "No, no," say the saints in heaven; "no," say the faithful on
earth; "no," say the promises; "no," unanimously exclaim the oracles of
Scripture; no, most emphatically no, he will not plead against you with
his great power, but he will put strength into you.
1. And here we make a similar remark to that with which we commenced
the former part of the sermon, namely, this: the fearful soul has a
very right view of God in many respects, but the faithful soul has a
right view of God in all respects. He that hath faith in God knows more
of God better than any man. Why, if I believe God, I can see all his
attributes vindicated. I can see the wrath of justice expiated by
yonder bleeding sufferer on the accursed tree. I can see his mercy and
his justice joining hands with his wrath. I can see his power now
turned on my behalf, and no longer against me. I can see his
faithfulness become the guardian of my soul instead of the slaughterer
of my hopes. I can see all his attributes standing, each of them
conjoined, each of them glorious, each of them lovely, and all united
in the work of man's salvation. He that feareth God, knows half of God;
he that believeth God, knoweth all of God that he can know; and the
more he believeth God, the more he understandeth God, the more he
comprehendeth his glory, his character, his nature, and his attributes.
2. The next thing is, that the believer when he is brought into peace
with God does not tremble at the thought of God's power. He does not
ask, "Will he plead against me with his great power?" But he says, "No,
that very power, once my terror, and fear, is now my refuge and my
hope, for he shall put that very power in me. I rejoice that God is
Almighty, for he will lend me his omnipotence–'he will put strength
into me.'" Now, here is a great thought; if I had power to handle it,
it would give me opportunity indeed to preach to you. But I cannot
reach the heights of eloquence, I shall therefore simply exhibit the
thought for a moment to you. The very power which would have damned my
soul, saves my soul. The very power that would have crushed me, God
puts into me, that the work of salvation may be accomplished. No, he
will not use it to crush me, but he will put that very strength into
me. Dost see there the Mighty One upon his throne? Dread Sovereign, I
see thine awful arm. What, wilt thou crush the sinner? Wilt thou
utterly destroy him with thy strength? "No," saith he, "Come hither,
child." And if you go to his Almighty throne, "There," saith he "that
self-same arm which made thee quake, see there, I give it to thee. Go
out and live. I have made thee mighty as I am, to do my works; I will
put strength into thee. The same strength which would have broken thee
to pieces on the wheel shall now be put into thee, that thou mayest do
mighty works."
Now, I will show you how this great strength displays itself. Sometimes
it goes out in prayer. Did you ever hear a man pray in whom God had put
strength? You have heard some of us poor puny souls pray, I dare say;
but have you ever heard a man pray that God had made into a giant? Oh,
if you have, you will say it is a mighty thing to hear such a man in
supplication. I have seen him now and then slip in his wrestling; but,
like a giant, he has recovered his footing, and seemed like Jacob, to
hurl the angel to the ground. I have marked the many lay hold upon the
throne of mercy, and declare, "Lord, I will never let go, except thou
bless me." I have seen him, when heaven's gates have been apparently
barred, go up to them, and say, "Ye gates, open wide in Jesus' name;"
and I have seen the gates fly open before him, as if the man were God
himself; for he is armed with God Almighty's strength. I have seen that
man, in prayer, discover some great mountain in his hills and made them
like chaff, by the immensity of his might. Some of you think I am
talking enthusiasm; but such cases have been, and are now. Oh! to have
heard Luther pray! Luther, you know, when Melancthon was dying, went to
his death-bed, and said, "Melancthon, you shall not die!" "Oh," said
Melancthon, "I must die! It is a world of toil and trouble,"
"Melancthon," said he, "I have need of thee, and God's cause has need
of thee, and as my name is Luther, thou shalt not die!" The physician
said he would. Well, down went Luther on his knees, and began to tug at
death. Old death struggled mightily for Melancthon, and he had got him
well nigh on his shoulders. "Drop him," said Luther, "drop him, I want
him." "No," said death, "he is my prey, I will take him!" "Down with
him," said Luther, "down with him, death, or I will wrestle with thee!"
And he seemed to take hold of the grim monster, and hurl him to the
ground; and he came off victorious, like an Orpheus, with his wife, up
from the very shades of death; he had delivered Melancthon from death
by prayer! "Oh," say you, "that is an extraordinary case." No, beloved,
not one-half so extraordinary as you dream. I have men and women here
who have done the same in other cases; that have asked a thing of God,
and have had it; that have been to the throne, and showed a promise,
and said they would not come away without its fulfilment, and have come
back fro God's throne conquerors of the Almighty; for prayer moves the
arm that moves the world. "Prayer is the sinew of God," said one, "it
moves his arm;" and so it is. Verily, in prayer, with the strength of
the faithful heart, there is a beautiful fulfilment of the text, "He
will put strength in me."
A second illustration. Not only in prayer, but in duty, the man who has
great faith in God, and whom God has girded with strength, how gigantic
does he become! Have you never read of those great heroes who put to
flight whole armies, and scattered kings like the snow on Salmon? Have
you never read of those men that were fearless of foes, and stalked
onward before all their opposers, as if they would as soon die as live?
I read, this day, of a case in the old kirk of Scotland, before that
King James who wished to force the black prelacy upon them. Andrew
Melville and some of his associates were deputed to wait upon the king,
and as they were going with a scroll ready written, they were warned to
take care and return, for their lives were at stake. They paused a
moment, and Andrew said, "I am not afraid, thank God, nor
feeble-spirited in the cause and message of Christ; come what pleases
God to send, our commission shall be executed." At these words the
deputation took courage, and went forward. On reaching the palace, and
having obtained an audience, they found his majesty attended by Lennox
and Arran, and several other lords, all of whom were English. They
presented their remonstrance. Arran lifted it from the table, and
glancing over it, he then turned to the ministers, and furiously
demanded, "Who dares sign these treasonable articles?" "WE DARE." said
Andrew Melville, "and will render our lives in the cause." Having thus
spoken, he came forward to the table, took the pen, subscribed his
name, and was followed by his brethren. Arran and Lennox were
confounded; the king looked on in silence, and the nobles in surprise.
Thus did our good forefathers appear before kings, and yet were not
ashamed. "The proud had them greatly in derision, yet they declined not
from the law of God." Having thus discharged their duty, after a brief
conference, the ministers were permitted to depart in peace. The king
trembled more at them than if a whole army had been at his gates; and
why was this? It was because God had put his own strength into them, to
make them masters of their duty. And you have some such in your midst
now. Despised they may be; but God has made them like the lion-like men
of David, who would go down into the pit in the depth of winter, and
take the lion by the throat and slay him. We have some in our
churches–but a remnant, I admit–who are not afraid to serve their
God, like Abdiel, "faithful amongst the faithless found." We have some
who are superior to the customs of the age, and scorn to bow at
mammon's knee, who will not use the trimming language of too many
modern ministers, but stand out for God's gospel, and the pure white
banner of Christ, unstained and unsullied by the doctrines of men. Then
are they mighty! Why they are mighty is, because God has put strength
in them.
Still, some say, I have dealt with extraordinary cases. Come then, now
we will have a home-case, one of your own sort, that will be like
yourselves. Did you ever stand and take a view of heaven? Have you
discerned the hills which lie between your soul and paradise? Have you
counted the lions you have to fight, the giants to be slain, and the
rivers to be crossed? Did you ever notice the many temptations with
which you must be beset, the trials you have to endure, the
difficulties you have to overcome, the dangers you have to avoid? Did
you ever take a bird's-eye view of heaven, and all the dangers which
are strewn thickly along the path thither? And didst thou ever ask
thyself this question, "How shall I, a poor feeble worm, ever get
there?" Didst thou ever say within thyself, "I am not a match for all
my foes, how shall I arrive at paradise?" If thou hast ever asked this
question, I will tell thee what is the only answer for it: thou must be
girded with Almighty strength, or else thou wilt never gain the
victory. Easy thy path may be, but it is too hard for thy infantile
strength, without the Almighty power. Thy path may be one of little
temptation, and of shallow trial; but thou wilt be drowned in the
floods yet, unless Almighty power preserve thee. Mark me! however
smooth thy way, there is nothing short of the bare arm of Deity that
can land any one of you in heaven. We must have Divine strength, or
else we shall never get there. And there is an illustration of these
words: "No, but he will put his strength in me."
"And shall I hold on to the end?" says the believer. Yes, thou wilt,
for God's strength is in thee. "Shall I be able to bear such-and-such a
trial?" Yes, thou wilt. Cannot Omnipotence stem the torrent? And
Omnipotence is in thee; for, like Ignatius of old, thou art a
God-bearer; thou bearest God about with thee. Thy heart is a temple of
the Holy Ghost, and thou shalt yet overcome. "But can I ever stand firm
in such-and-such evil day?" Oh! yes you will, for he will put his
strength in you. I was in company, some time ago, with some ministers;
one of them observed, "Brother, if there were to be stakes in
Smithfield again, I am afraid they would find very few to burn among
us." "Well," I said, "I do not know anything about how you would burn;
but this I know right well, that there never will be any lack of men
who are ready to die for Christ." "Oh!" said he, "but they are not the
right sort of men." "Well," said I, "but do you think they are the
Lord's children?" "Yes, I believe they are, but they are not the right
sort." "Ah!" said I, "but you would find them the right sort, if they
came to the test every one of them; they have not got burning grace
yet. What would be the use of it?" We do not want the grace till the
stakes come; but we should have burning grace in burning moments. If
now, to-night, a hundred of us were called to die for Christ, I believe
there would not only be found a hundred, but five hundred, that would
march to death, and sing all the way. Whenever I find faith, I believe
that God will put strength into the man; and I never think anything to
be impossible to a man with faith in God, while it is written, "He will
put strength in me."
3. But now the last observation shall be, we shall all want this at the
last; and it is a mercy for us that this is written, for never shall we
require it, perhaps, more than then. O believer, dost thou think thou
wilt be able to swim the Jordan with thine own sinews? Caesar could not
swim the Tiber, accoutered as he was; and dost thou hope to swim the
Jordan with thy flesh about thee? No, thou wilt sink then, unless
Jesus, as Aeneas did Anchises, from the flames of Rome, upon his
shoulders, lift thee from Jordan, and carry thee across the stream,
thou wilt never be able to walk across the river; thou wilt ne'er be
able to face that tyrant and smile in his face, unless thou hast
something more than mortal. Thou wilt need then to be belted about with
the girdle of divinity, or else thy loins will be loosed, and thy
strength will fail thee, when thou needst it most. Many a man has
ventured to the Jordan in his own strength; but oh! how he has shrieked
and howled, when the first wave has touched his feet! But never
weakling went to death with God within him, but he found himself
mightier than the grace. Go on, Christian, for this is thy promise. "He
will put strength in me."
"Weak, though I am, yet through his might,
I all things can perform."
Go on; dread not God's power, but rejoice at this, he will put his
strength in you; he will not use his power to crush you.
Just one word, and then farewell. There is within reach of my voice, I
am thoroughly convinced, one who is seeking Christ, whose only fear is
this: "Sir, I would, but I cannot pray; I would, but I cannot believe;
I would, but I cannot love; I would, but I cannot repent." Oh! hear
this, soul: "He will put his strength in thee." Go home; and down on
thy knees; if thou canst not pray, groan; if thou canst not groan,
weep; if thou canst not weep, feel; if thou canst not feel, feel
because thou canst not feel; for that is as far as many get. But stop
there, mark you, stop there, and he will give you his blessing; do not
get up till you have got the blessing. Go there in all thy weakness; if
you do not feel it, say, "Lord, I do not feel as I ought to feel; but
oh that I could! Lord, I cannot repent, as I would repent–oh that thou
wouldst help me!" "Oh! sir," you say, "but I could not go so far as
that, for I don't think I have got a strong desire." Go and say, "Lord
I would desire; help me to desire." And then sit down and think of your
lost estate. Think of your ruin and the remedy, and muse on that; and
mark thee, whilst thou art in the way, the Lord will meet with thee.
Only believe this, that if thou triest Christ he will never let thee
try in vain. Go and risk thy soul on Christ to-night, neck or nothing,
sinner. Go now, break or make; go and say, "Lord, I know I must be
damned if I have not Christ." Stay there, and say, "If I perish, I
perish only here;" and I tell you, you will never perish. I am bondsman
for God. This head to the block if your soul goes to hell, if you pray
sincerely and trust Christ. This neck to the gallows, again I say, this
neck to the rope and to the hangman's gallows, if Christ reject you
after your have earnestly sought him. Only try that, I beseech thee,
poor soul. "Oh," you say, "but I have not strength enough; I cannot do
that." Well, poor soul, crawl to the mercy-seat, and there lie flat,
just as you are. You know that misery often speaks when it utters not a
word. The poor mendicant squats himself down in the street. He says
nothing, There protrudes a ragged knee, and there is a wounded hand. He
says nothing; but with his hands folded on his breast he looks at every
passer-by; and though not a word is spoken, he winneth more than if he
daily drawled out his tale, or sung it along the street. So do thou sit
like Bartimeus by the way-side begging; and if thou hearest him pass
by, then cry, "Jesus, thou son of David, have mercy upon me." But if
thou canst scarce say that, sit there, and exhibit thy poor wounds;
tell the Lord thy desperate condition; strip thy loathsome sores, and
let the Almighty see the venom. Turn out thy heart, and let the rank
corruption be all inspected by the Almighty eye. "And he hath mercies
rich and free." Who can tell, poor sinner, who can tell? He may look on
thee.
"Jesus died upon the tree,
And why, poor sinner, not for thee?
His Sovereign grace is rich and free,
And why, poor sinner, not for thee?
"Our Jesus loved and saved me,
Say why, poor sinner, why not thee?"
Only do this; and if thou art a sinner, hear this: "This is a faithful
saying, and worthy of all acceptance, that Jesus Christ came into the
world to save sinners; of whom I am chief." He will not "Plead against
you with his great power; no, he will put his strength in you!" The
Lord dismiss you with his blessing!