no thought, no desire, but Christ.
It is to feel that to die were bliss if it were for Christ;
to feel that to live in penury and woe and scorn and
contempt and misery were sweet, if it were for Christ.
To feel that it matters nothing what becomes of one's self so
so long as our Master is but exalted; to feel that though,
like a dried leaf, we are blown in the blast, we are quite
without care as to where we are going, so long as we feel that
the Master's hand is guiding us according to His will.
- Spurgeon