Wednesday, October 29, 2025
Scripture Readings
- Primary Reading: Song of Solomon 4-5
- Secondary Reading: Psalms 125
Key Verse
Song of Solomon 5:1 — “I am come into 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, yea, drink abundantly, O beloved.”
Devotional Thought
The Shulamite bride stands before her shepherd-king, and he pours out a cascade of praise that sounds strange to modern ears—doves’ eyes, a flock of goats on Gilead’s slopes, a scarlet thread, a tower hung with a thousand shields. These are not insults but the language of a man utterly captivated. In the ancient Near East, such imagery spoke of strength, fruitfulness, and beauty. He calls her “all fair,” declaring “there is no spot in thee,” and invites her to come with him from Lebanon, from the lions’ dens and leopard-haunted peaks. She is a garden enclosed, a fountain sealed—set apart, precious, and waiting to be enjoyed by the one who planted her. She responds by calling the winds to blow upon her garden so its spices may flow out, and he comes in, gathering myrrh and honey, eating and drinking, inviting friends to share the feast.
Then the tone shifts. In chapter 5, the bride sleeps while her beloved knocks, his head wet with dew. She hesitates—”I have put off my coat; how shall I put it on?”—and by the time she rises, he has withdrawn. She searches the streets, is wounded by the watchmen, and falls sick with love. When the daughters of Jerusalem ask what makes her beloved so special, she answers with her own cascade of praise: “My beloved is white and ruddy, the chiefest among ten thousand… he is altogether lovely.”
How easily we do the same. Christ stands at the door and knocks, and we, comfortable and half-asleep, delay. The dew of His presence falls in the ordinary moments—early morning prayer, a quiet conviction, a verse that lingers—and we say, “Not now.” Then the sense of His nearness fades, and we wonder where He went. Yet even in the seeking, the longing itself is evidence of love. The soul that cannot rest until it finds Him is a soul He has already claimed.
We are late October now, when gardens are closing down and the air turns cold. The enclosed garden of Song of Solomon feels far away. But the Bridegroom has not changed. He still calls His people “all fair” in Him, still surrounds us like the mountains round Jerusalem, still invites us to open before the night deepens. And when we rise, even late, even wounded, even stumbling through the streets—He is altogether lovely, and He is our Friend.
Reflection
- When Christ knocks through conviction, Scripture, or the quiet promptings of His Spirit, what “coat” have you already put off that makes you slow to rise and open to Him?
- The bride’s delay led to searching, wounding, and longing. What has the Lord taught you in seasons when you could not find Him—and how did that season deepen your love for Him?
Prayer
Lord Jesus, Thou art the chiefest among ten thousand, and altogether lovely. Forgive us for the nights we have slept while Thou stoodest knocking, our heads full of excuses, our hearts half-wakened. Blow upon the enclosed garden of our lives, O Spirit, that the spices of love and obedience may flow out. When we have sought Thee and found Thee not, remind us that Thou hast not abandoned us but art drawing us deeper. Surround us as the mountains surround Jerusalem. Keep us from turning aside to crooked ways, and let Thy peace rest upon us, until the day breaks and the shadows flee away. Amen.
Psalm Verse
Psalms 125:1 — “They that trust in the LORD shall be as mount Zion, which cannot be removed, but abideth for ever.”