This blog entry is part of an on-going series in response a study of the Song of Solomon by Mike Bickle. If you’d like to read more, click on the SOS titles listed individually on my sidebar. You can also read devotionals on this topic by visiting my “Bride” archives at Soul Scents.

1-4 Restless in bed and sleepless through the night, I longed for my lover.
I wanted him desperately. His absence was painful.
So I got up, went out and roved the city,
hunting through streets and down alleys.
I wanted my lover in the worst way!
I looked high and low, and didn’t find him.
And then the night watchmen found me
as they patrolled the darkened city.
“Have you seen my dear lost love?” I asked.
No sooner had I left them than I found him,
found my dear lost love.
I threw my arms around him and held him tight,
wouldn’t let him go until I had him home again,
safe at home beside the fire.

5 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.

(Song of Solomon 3:1-5 The Message)

The darkness descends like a shroud, but still I am alone. I pull my robe about my shoulders as I try to hold back the tremor that runs through my spine. I know He isn’t coming, but hope drowns out logic and I pull back the curtains and peer into the night. I see no headlights; hear no confident step upon the sidewalk.

I suppose I knew how it would be. He had wanted me to come. Eyes sparkling He’d held His hand out to me. “Spring has come! The flowers are blooming. The rains are over! Come! Explore and conquer with me!”

I’d turned away from His welcoming eyes—looked beyond Him to the looming mountains. They did not beckon me. They didn’t shout of spring and adventure. They were massive, cold, harsh. I didn’t want to discover the budding flower peeking through the rocks. Though the view from the top might be breath taking, the climb would surely exhaust me and the left over snowdrifts would seep through my boots leaving my feet wet, red, and frozen.

He would want to go visiting after His climb. To chat with friends about His adventures and encourage them to climb as well. But I wasn’t up to all the people, the strange faces and unfamiliar customs.

I wanted Him to stay, but I had seen the gleam in His eyes. The mountains were nothing to Him and He would not be detained. He had things to conquer. People to see. His adventures must be embraced.

Instead of reaching for His outstretched hand, I leaned over and put light, grazing kisses upon His fingertips. “Go. Enjoy your mountains. I am not ready to climb. Explore your cities. I’m not ready to travel.”

I sensed His bundled energy. He could not be held back. He would go. I stared at the ground, waiting for the movement of His feet. For a moment they were still. I dared not look at His face, dared not discern the cause of His delay. That’s when I’d felt the familiar touch beneath my chin. As I allowed Him to raise my eyes to His, I expected scorn, but when I looked into His lovely eyes I only saw longing. “Wait then, my love,” He replied. “I shall daily wish you beside me in these adventures. But even when you don’t see my face, remember my heart is always with you. Even as I respect your desire to stay behind, I would never leave or forsake you. We are always together, even when you can’t see me.”

And then He was gone.

And now I am alone. So very alone. He promised me His devotion, but I want His tender touch, His laughter, His reassuring presence. I long for my Friend to listen to my heart and to hold me as He shares His. My heart aches, groans for His presence. But I cannot find Him.

He is not here.

I comfort myself with the memory of His last words—how His heart is always mine, even when I can’t see His face. Why does it have to be this way? Why can’t I always feel Him, see Him, touch Him and be touched by Him? Why can’t life be a continuous, unbroken string of intimacy and experiences of His love? Why must it feel as if He is far away?

Before I turn the final lock, I open the door, hoping again despite what I know. Of course He isn’t there. The click of the bolt is forlorn and final. I trudge to my bed and then slip off my silken robe. The beautiful gown underneath only adds to my desolation, so I change into my comfy jammies. They are worn and unattractive, but they are familiar—and isn’t that why I didn’t follow Him into adventure? I wanted to feel safe. I feared unknown hardships. Here, I know what I have. There . . .

I climb between the sheets and stare at the ceiling. I cry then. Not gut-wrenching sobs, but pitiful, lonely tears. Why would He ask me to do something I wasn’t ready for? Why couldn’t He just stay with me in the old way? Hold me. Wait for me?

Suddenly, the tears are big and hot. I throw back the covers, rush to the bathroom, and splash water on my face. Who needs this anyway—this drawing to bigger and bigger worlds? Who needs adventure and people and the unknown?

Who needs Him?

I do.

I fall back against the wall and sit there on the bathroom floor. I begin to shiver with cold and reach for a big towel hanging beside me. Wrapping it around my goose pimpled arms, I let the truth seep in.

I need Him.

What of danger, unknown adventure, crowds of people? The sweet, familiar place is no longer sweet unless He is here.

I jump to my feet, flinging off my soft jammie pants and throwing on my favorite jeans. I don’t take the time to groom, I just grab a t-shirt and hoodie and pulling them over my head, I rush from the house. I run through the streets, trying to think who He might be visiting. I ask everyone I know if they have seen my Love. Some don’t want to be disturbed in the night and keep their doors locked, telling me to go away. Others open up to me, but say they haven’t seen Him. I’m frantic with desire. I go to mainstreet and walk through all the places still open. He’s not in the grocery store or at the gas station. I even brave looking in the tavern, full of loud, staring men. But He is not there. I rush out of the chaotic room, glad to be away from the empty, hungry eyes, but feeling more desperate than ever for my good, true Man. The One who loves without selfishness.

In my unseeing haste I bump into a policeman, his steel arms and chest shocking me and his lifesaver mint breath too close. I barely apologize before asking my question. “Have you seen Him? Have you seen my Love?”

He looks frustrated and suggests I go home and file a missing person report. He doesn’t want me disturbing the town at this hour—besides, shouldn’t a good girl like me be safe at home?

I want to strangle him. To shout at him that nothing matters but finding my Love. Something about the shiny badge on his shirt and the memory of his iron muscles stops the words that want to fly, raging from my lips. I nod respectfully and push on. But I don’t go home. Oh! Where is my Love?

Then, there He is. Standing before me. Love shining from His eyes.

“I heard you were looking for me. Didn’t I tell you I could always be found?”

I fall weeping upon His chest. He doesn’t ask me why I’m running about the city like a crazy woman. He doesn’t judge me for my frantic search or comment on my thrown together apparel. He simply holds me. I take His hand and don’t let go. I want Him close. Always. I slip my fingers between his strong, firm ones and let the joy and safety course through my body, starting at the tingling happy place where our hands join and climbing through every limb, every appendage, every vein and vessel throughout my body and soul.

We walk together. Share from our hearts as I’ve so longed to do.

I’m so overcome with the joy of Him that I take Him to my family and friends and tell them how precious He is to me. I cling to Him, all the while telling everyone I know how wonderful He is. Some of those from my old home laugh at me. They think my devotion to Him is out of balance. But I don’t care. He is my all. Some welcome Him and they, too, discover His wonders. I love bringing Him to these places—serving Him and the people we love.

One evening my Love and I sit together. The fireplace crackles as He places a new log upon it. As the sparks fly upward, I see myself rising with them. I know that from my lonely night I’ve gained new passion and light. He has become more precious than ever and I realize I would rather go to new and scary places with Him than stay at home alone.

“Jesus?”

He smiles at me. “Yes?”

“Why didn’t you make me come—why didn’t you insist I scramble over the mountains and visit the unknown cities?”

“Love must be awakened when it is ready, not before.”

“I thought I was ready to follow you anywhere—to love you with abandon. But I disappointed you and myself. I was afraid.”

“You never disappointed me. I was disappointed to go forward without you, but I was never disappointed in you. I understand what most do not. Love takes time to grow. Your heart has always been willing, but your flesh is weak. Your desire for me will fuel your courage as it did when you braved the unfamiliar streets to find me among people you didn’t know. It is only by allowing your desire to deepen for my companionship, that I could let you discover for yourself what you really wanted.”

“I wanted you.”

“And I’m glad.”

He takes my hand and brings it to His lips.

“I wanted you all along.”

“I know, dear one. But you needed time to let your trust catch up with your desire. What you wanted had to grow to be greater than what you feared.”

I duck my head. “There are people who say I am unworthy of your love because I hesitated when you asked me to walk beside you on the mountains and to travel to the unknown places. Some people shamed me, telling me I should gather my courage and move forward by sheer will. I wanted to be strong enough to follow you. I did. But . . .”

His eyes flash. “Love should never be awaken before it is ready. Religious opinions from the spiritually dull can harm love. Seek the counsel of those living the adventure and romance of Me. Let those who have judgments and strong opinions govern themselves. You listen to Me and be comforted by those who allow you to be in the seasons of growth I’ve placed you in. Love will blossom in My time. Courage will grow in you as I cultivate your ability to trust Me.”

He pulls me to Himself. “Let our love grow as I lead it. Don’t be hard on yourself or push yourself when you aren’t ready. Look to Me for leadership and I will help you become all that you are to be. I will do it by My love.”