(Images used in this entry are by Tonya Vander. Her photography can be purchased at her website.)

This blog entry is part of an on-going series of prayer in response a study of the Song of Solomon. If you’d like to read more, just look for blog titles that start with SOS. They are listed on my sidebar. You can also read devotionals on this topic by visiting my “Bride” archives at Soul Scents http://www.soulscents.us/archives.htm

Prayer Response to Song of Solomon 2:1-2

Beloved
I am a rose of Sharon, a lily of the valleys.

Lover
Like a lily among thorns is my darling among the maidens.
(Song of Solomon 2:1-2 NIV)

The sweet fragrance of the dew sprinkled rose entices me, calling me near. My harried pace is interrupted and all I want to do is stop, breathe in the sweet aroma, and gaze upon the delicate beauty of the flower. I kneel, pull the branch a little closer, bury my face in the flower’s velvety softness, and inhale deeply.

I lean back on my heels, delighting in the sheer loveliness in front of me. Sure, the yard needs work. There are weeds to pull and grass to mow, but at this moment the imperfections of my world fade away and all I see is the splendor of this blossom before me. The frustration and disappointment I felt before pausing before the rose bush fades and my soul is soothed.

You are like that flower.

“What? Me Lord?”

You are the rose of Sharon.

“That’s hard to accept, Jesus. The rose is delicate and beautiful and smells like heaven. The way I’ve acted today surely must be a rising stench, not a fragrant offering.”

Sweet Rose. My blood is an unending river of grace. You need to swim in it, float along in its current, carried by the forgiveness I gave you at the cross. Receive my unconditional regard. I have given you a desire to please me and that desire alone rises like a rosy, sweet aroma.

“I know you’ve forgiven me, but it’s hard to receive such loving sentiments from you. I am so often weak and resentful.”

Jesus chuckles. Yes, but like Jane Austen’s hero in one of your favorite movies says—weak and resentful, but never inconstant. Sweet Rose, even when you’re tired and angry, your heart still calls for me. I’ve placed that hunger within you and it will not disappear. Your desire for me brings me continuous delight. I often look upon the loveliness of your surrender and my soul is soothed.

“But a rose, Lord? A rose is tender and strong at the same time. It’s alive and growing in perfection. Even as it starts to fade it is beautiful: always velvety soft, always glorious.”

When My fingertips caress your heart, they are delighted by the velvety suppleness of its surrender. There are no bumps or cracks. Your heart is not rough. I gave you a new one, remember? You feel good when I touch you. Petal soft. You are my beloved.

“Help me believe this. I know that you are remaking me to be like you, that you are preparing me as your bride to stand by your side.”

You are like the lily. My blood has given you purity. In a world of darkness, where many reject Me and My gift of holiness, you stand out. Pure. White. A beautiful, fragrant flower.

“Lord, you are slowly redefining my identity. It is hard to accept You calling me the rose of Sharon or a pure, white lily. As your bride, I’ll try hold onto Your words, but You know how easy it is for me to focus on all my faults.”

My Lily, your immaturity does not take away your holiness. I have plucked you (and others like you) from a chaotic, darkened world that so often grieves Me. I have washed you and slipped a new, beautiful gown over your head. As the host of heaven looks upon the world My Father made, it sees my bride, adorned in a flowing, white gown. You stand out like flowers in the midst of thorns, brambles, and weeds. All the heavenly beings know you are special because you are beloved, adored, valued, and treasured by Me. One glance at you in your beautiful dress tells them you are Mine.

My eyes fill with tears and Jesus takes my hand. He strokes my hair for a while; letting His words feed my ravenous soul. Then He runs a forefinger over my cheek and brushes away a droplet of emotion that has traced my face. I glance up at Him and stare at what I see in His eyes. My earthly husband looks at me like that sometimes—like I am precious and irreplaceable. Jesus smiles and I am mesmerized by the sweet, gentle, full look of love I see in His face.

“You do delight in me!”

You’re My velvety rose, My snow-white lily.

I gaze into His eyes for a while longer, then I stand. I take both of His hands in mine and kneel before Him. I lean my head against His knees. “I want to give you my will, Jesus.” My voice is a whisper, a baring of my heart floating on the breeze. “I want to surrender more fully to you. I am your handmaiden; do with me as you wish. Led me into ever-increasing intimacy with You. Show me how to serve You and those You love.”

He beams at me, obviously pleased. Suddenly, I feel a little sassy. I take a bit of that beautiful white flowing dress in each hand and lift it from around my feet. The swish of the air around me as I twirl before Him ruffles His hair.

He stands, looking a little sassy Himself, and a dew-kissed pink rose appears in His hand. His gaze never leaves my face as He places the flower behind my ear.

(Written in response to a study on the Song of Songs by Mike Bickle)