Song of Solomon

The Song of Solomon is the one book of the Bible I have avoided most of my life, but it is one of the greatest truths in the entire Bible. As I spend more and more time reading this short book, I find increased levels of depth of revelation of how Jesus sees me, and how my responses to Him move Him. There is a lot of flowery and “gender-centric” language in this book, but if I am willing to humble my heart and try to understand it, there is so much Jesus is willing to let me see. This knowledge of His view of what is possible in our relationship unlocks my heart to obey Him more. Today, I am gripped by this passage:

The Shulamite (that is me)

Song of Solomon 4:16 Awake, O north wind, And come, O south! Blow upon my garden, That its spices may flow out. Let my beloved come to his garden And eat its pleasant fruits.

The Beloved (Jesus)

5:1 I have come to my garden, my sister, my spouse; I have gathered my myrrh with my spice; I have eaten my honeycomb with my honey; I have drunk my wine with my milk. Eat, O friends! Drink, yes, drink deeply, O beloved ones!

Just before this passage, Jesus has told the object of His love, the Shulamite, that she is a “fountain sealed” and a “garden enclosed.” He is saying my heart is mine give and it flows with beauty when I give it to Him. The Bible says it was fashioned by God, but my heart was given to me. When God fashioned my heart, or created it, He created it full of wonder, beauty, and mystery. I picture God’s physical creation, which is less valuable to Him than my heart.

One of the prettiest places I have ever been is Sleeping Bear Dunes in northwest Michigan. I picture myself at Sleeping Bear Dunes, on the top of the highest part of the Dunes, looking out over Lake Michigan 800 feet below, with the Manitou Islands off in the distance, and the sun shining down, wispy clouds of cotton over a Caribbean blue lake. I imagine the smell of the nearby cedars, the sound of the gulls, and the feel of the soft clean sand under my feet. The warmth of the sand and the refreshing breeze from the lake combine in a way that is sooo pleasant. God created this little spot, and it matters to Him, but my heart is WAY more valuable. If I could see my heart the way He does, it would be more beautiful than my favorite spot high above Lake Michigan. What resides within my heart is mysterious beauty to Him….familiar, but still full of exciting wonder.

God desires to encounter what He placed in my heart. He fashioned it full of wonder, then wrapped my body around it and gave it to me. My heart is mine to give…a garden enclosed, a fountain sealed. It is the greatest treasure to Him. There is no other garden full of what is in my heart. There is no garden like yours. He made my heart to be this way, but I am the only one with a key. He gave me the gate to my heart, it only opens from the inside.

When I invite Him in, He is sure to come in. I invite Him in with my reach for Him. It looks different ways at different times. It might be a verbal invitation to talk…. “what are you thinking, Lord?”…or a poorly-sung song, or simple obedience…a desire to love Him with my obedience. Whatever the opening of the gate looks like, He is sure to come in and enjoy what He made. He is willing to linger as long as I am willing to let Him.

I rarely see the opening of the door of my heart as special. To me, it looks like a weak response. My invitation is quick, my song sounds terrible in my ears, and my obedience seems significantly lacking. I don’t see the landscape of my heart the way He does. BUT, A weak response is still a response. It is opening the gate of my heart a little wider…

The Shulamite says “let the winds of life blow on my heart and release the spices. Let my beloved eat its pleasant fruit.” But look at what The Beloved sees: myrrh with the spice, honeycomb AND honey, wine AND milk. Jesus sees so much more…He loves the garden He fashioned!

Weak love is still real love. What seems like a weak response from me is still a sincere response. Jesus doesn’t see our response as weak. He sees it as an invitation to dwell in the space He longs to dwell. It is a garden He made. He is the universe’s best landscape designer!

He is enthroned on MY praises. My simple obedience, when no one in the world knows I am obeying, moves His heart in a way sitting at my favorite spot high above Lake Michigan can’t even touch. My weak voice, when I take the time to attach my heart to it, sings the melody that moves His heart.

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