Time for Love!
Lord, You’re the creator of all beauty, of all that is right and good. I praise You for all You’ve made.
Read SONG OF SONGS 3:6-5:1
 Who is this coming up from the desert like a column of smoke, perfumed with myrrh and incense made from all the spices of the merchant?  Look! It is Solomon’s carriage, escorted by sixty warriors, the noblest of Israel,  all of them wearing the sword, all experienced in battle, each with his sword at his side, prepared for the terrors of the night.  King Solomon made for himself the carriage; he made it of wood from Lebanon.  Its posts he made of silver, its base of gold. Its seat was upholstered with purple, its interior lovingly inlaid by the daughters of Jerusalem.  Come out, you daughters of Zion, and look at King Solomon wearing the crown, the crown with which his mother crowned him on the day of his wedding, the day his heart rejoiced. Lover How beautiful you are, my darling! Oh, how beautiful! Your eyes behind your veil are doves. Your hair is like a flock of goats descending from Mount Gilead.  Your teeth are like a flock of sheep just shorn, coming up from the washing. Each has its twin; not one of them is alone.  Your lips are like a scarlet ribbon; your mouth is lovely. Your temples behind your veil are like the halves of a pomegranate.  Your neck is like the tower of David, built with elegance; on it hang a thousand shields, all of them shields of warriors.  Your two breasts are like two fawns, like twin fawns of a gazelle that browse among the lilies.  Until the day breaks and the shadows flee, I will go to the mountain of myrrh and to the hill of incense.  All beautiful you are, my darling; there is no flaw in you.  Come with me from Lebanon, my bride, come with me from Lebanon. Descend from the crest of Amana, from the top of Senir, the summit of Hermon, from the lions’ dens and the mountain haunts of the leopards.  You have stolen my heart, my sister, my bride; you have stolen my heart with one glance of your eyes, with one jewel of your necklace.  How delightful is your love, my sister, my bride! How much more pleasing is your love than wine, and the fragrance of your perfume than any spice!  Your lips drop sweetness as the honeycomb, my bride; milk and honey are under your tongue. The fragrance of your garments is like that of Lebanon.  You are a garden locked up, my sister, my bride; you are a spring enclosed, a sealed fountain.  Your plants are an orchard of pomegranates with choice fruits, with henna and nard,  nard and saffron, calamus and cinnamon, with every kind of incense tree, with myrrh and aloes and all the finest spices.  You are a garden fountain, a well of flowing water streaming down from Lebanon. Beloved Awake, north wind, and come, south wind! Blow on my garden, that its fragrance may spread abroad. Let my lover come into his garden and taste its choice fruits. Lover I have come into my garden, my sister, my bride; I have gathered my myrrh with my spice. I have eaten my honeycomb and my honey; I have drunk my wine and my milk. FriendsEat, O friends, and drink; drink your fill, O lovers. Scripture taken from the Holy Bible, NEW INTERNATIONAL VERSION. Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984 International Bible Society. All rights reserved throughout the world. Used by permission of International Bible Society.
ReflectHow does the Lover describe the love of his Beloved?
Vacations allow time for that special someone who may get overlooked in the busyness of everyday life. You might be married to an accountant, but when you see him on the beach, all golden and sun-kissed, he’s an Adonis. When he steps out of the shower in a haze of aftershave, he’s a mythical hero. When he opens the door of his hatchback, he’s Prince Charming. No? Well, perhaps, like me, you don’t go for all that romance stuff. And I’m not very good with flattery either—it makes me squirm. So if I was on the receiving end of this love song, I’d break out in nervous laughter. I’d have to look the other way.
But in songs we can say things that we normally wouldn’t or couldn’t. Some of us may find it hard to use words of adoration—but thank God for those who don’t. John Donne’s “Holy Sonnet XIV” is a beautiful example: “Take me to you, imprison me, for I / Except you enthrall me, never shall be free / Nor ever chaste, except you ravish me.” It’s probably not for singing in church! However, Donne’s passion for God is a challenge to every lukewarm soul.
Take time to think of how you could express your praise and love for God. Then, try to actually do it!
O Lord, open my heart and lips so that I can give You the whole-hearted praise that You so richly deserve.
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