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, check on the series listed individually on my sidebar. You can also read devotionals on this topic by visiting my “Bride” archives at Soul Scents.

Prayer Response to Song of Solomon 2:3-6

Like an apple tree among the trees of the wood, so is my beloved [shepherd] among the sons [cried the girl]! Under his shadow I delighted to sit, and his fruit was sweet to my taste. He brought me to the banqueting house, and his banner over me was love [for love waved as a protecting and comforting banner over my head when I was near him]. Sustain me with raisins, refresh me with apples, for I am sick with love. [I can feel] his left hand under my head and his right hand embraces me! [He said] I charge you, O you daughters of Jerusalem, by the gazelles or by the hinds of the field [which are free to follow their own instincts] that you not try to stir up or awaken [my] love until it pleases. (Amplified Version)

As an apricot tree stands out in the forest,
my lover stands above the young men in town.
All I want is to sit in his shade,
to taste and savor his delicious love.
He took me home with him for a festive meal,
but his eyes feasted on me!

Oh! Give me something refreshing to eat—and quickly!
Apricots, raisins—anything. I’m about to faint with love!
His left hand cradles my head,
and his right arm encircles my waist!

Oh, let me warn you, sisters in Jerusalem,
by the gazelles, yes, by all the wild deer:
Don’t excite love, don’t stir it up,
until the time is ripe—and you’re ready. (The Message)

Symbolisms:

Woods – humanity
Fruit tree – refreshment
Banqueting table – hope of marriage feast in Revelation, can be tasted in increasing measure now as we see out identity in Christ
Banner – is like an ancient flag carried to identify the army, is a banner of love, not a flag of religion in this case
Raisins, grapes, wine – Holy Spirit

Prayer:

Father,

I know emotions are fleeting, that Truth is the solid foundation—the truth that you have called me, cleansed me, drawn me close—the truth that You enjoy me and I can rest in your shade. These Truths were so precious to me when I first discovered them and I still love these thoughts, but why am I so tired? What don’t I praise you more, Why don’t I delight? Rejoice? Rest? Do with me as you please. Draw me from this weary stupor. Give me your strength, grace, and joy. Help me to feel Your delight in me and to return it back to You as I rest in Your shade.

I’m thinking now of the times You have let me taste You. The moments when your presence was tangible. You are not a cruel, demanding God who requires discipline but is never pleased. You are a merciful God who offers your grace to cleanse, empower, and give peace. Even your convictions feels sweet because you give it in the context of your love and empowerment to help me do better. You don’t just demand change and shake your finger in my face. Even correction can taste sweet because YOU are in it.

I’ll be honest though, Lord. I wish I could experience Your presence in a such felt, tangible ways all the time. I wish I felt it like a continuous refreshing breeze upon my face or joyful passion whose surge doesn’t diminish. I walk by faith, knowing You have promised to never leave or forsake me, but oh how I want to always feel You.

The Psalmist says there is nowhere we can go to get away from Your presence. That you are in the highest heights and deepest depths. Every little taste of You makes me long for more. You touch me in a tangible experience and for a while I ride the wave of your personal attention, reveling in it, feeling strong. But I wish for it all the time. Why don’t You give it?

The thought comes that this time of constant, tangible, experiential relationship is the gift of heaven—that these little tastes of You—these brief moments of touching the Divine are but a kiss of promise before our wedding day—like the old hymn says, a foretaste of glory divine.

Give me a heart that hopes for heaven. A glorious hope of eternity. And let me taste Your fruit now—in whatever measure You see fit to give it to me. And carry me by faith in the times You seem farther away. Help me to always know that You are the fruit that is always sweet and not bitter, even when life has a acrid flavor.

I confess I long to be at Your table. I want to rejoice in Your love, celebrating our relationship, believing in it every minute. But sometimes my heart hardens. I feel like the hero in Persuasion who said, “I have been weak and resentful but never inconstant.” I get resentful when things don’t go my way. I feel angry over my circumstances—angry about prolonged stresses, unfulfilled dreams; weary in well-doing. My flesh sometimes screams that You have abandoned me. The enemy taunts my soul, whispering that the unending struggles prove Your lack of care. But though I am weak and sometimes resentful, I never stop loving You.

My heart never falters, Lord. It believes it is loved and it has loved You back. Even in my anger, I long in my spirit to walk well in times of difficulties. What does that look like, Lord? I want to bear my trials with less whining, less tears, and more praise. But I also don’t want to become plastic, glossing over honest emotion. Sometimes it feels my very soul has been imprisoned and that to rejoice takes more energy than I have, so my heart whispers its love, but sometimes my voice is silent. I am ashamed. You deserve so much more. Don’t let me get lost in despair—don’t let my hope be fleeting—slipping through weary hands as I try to grasp it.

I’m reminded that this Scripture says You bring me to the banqueting table. Oh Jesus! Grab me! Carry me kicking and screaming if You have to! Maybe I shut down because I look for fulfillment in other places than Your banqueting house. Maybe some of the shut door, hard times, and such are simply Your way of hemming me in, reminding me where my nourishment is found. It isn’t found in getting my way, but in being with You!

Your banner is love! Oh that I may drink in Your deep, never ending, love. I want to dive into it’s warm, golden liquid and be saturated with it. Help me to reject the self-hatred, shame, and religion that keeps me from swimming in the love You offer. I want to truly believe my very name is beloved. I want to live as a woman well loved.

You are not cruel or neglectful of me. You simply allow the hard times to awaken my hunger until I cry out to be sustained by Your food. You are making me love-sick! Reminding me that only You can fill the hunger of my heart. Come! Fill me with Yourself!

I feel Your answer, just as the bride of the Song does. I cry out for You and You answer by embracing me. I feel Your hand behind my head and another encircling my waist. I sense Your fingers in my hair, Your eyes close to mine, looking deeply into them. You are so close. So intimate. I feel Your breath on my cheek as we recline together. Your presence fills me up. Oh please! Don’t let anyone interrupt our love until we have taken our rest. Refilled our souls on each other’s presence.

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