Saturday, April 26, 2014

April 26th

You are a field of wheat, He had said, and despite the tenderness of it and the love in His voice, I was filled with merriment at this, the type of compliment Jesus chose to use.

Days later, I showed Jesus something- some fault of mine, and it seemed to be like a sheaf of paper on which was written my fault. I sat there with my head bowed, my arm outstretched with the paper held up toward Him.

And Jesus snatched it out of my hand and tore it up! He tore it right down the middle and then into shreds and then He tossed it in the air with this loud, triumphant, careless cry of victory that had no words. It was so compelling that I was caught up in this cry myself.

“My goodness, You are a jealous God,” I told Him, astonished- thinking of how His zeal of the honor of His father’s house had eaten Him up- had caused Him to braid a whip and to drive out everything that was not pure prayer- how He does that for me. Then I leaned against Him. “But I am counting on it. I am counting on Your zealous nature to keep me until that day.”


Verse 6 says, "Set me as a seal upon thine heart, as a seal upon thine arm; for love is strong as death; jealousy is cruel as the grave: the coals thereof are coals of fire, which hath a most vehement flame." When she recalls her original condition, she cannot help but be filled with humility. She cannot help but consider her emptiness, the vanity of her experience, the undependability of her mind, and the futility of pursuit. Her only hope is the Lord. She realizes that whether she can endure to the end does not depend on her own endurance, but on the Lord's preservation. No spiritual perfection can sustain a person until the Lord's return. Everything depends on God and His preserving power.

"When she realizes this, she cannot help but exclaim... "All my hopes are in Your love and power. I loved You before. But I know the undependability of that love. Now I look only to the love You have toward me. I held You once, and it seemed to be a powerful grip. But now I realize that even my strongest grip is just weakness. My trust is not in my holding power. I dare not speak of my love to You any longer. I dare not speak of my grasping of You any longer. From this point on, everything depends on Your strength and Your love."

-Song of Songs, by Watchman Nee, (*:5-14)


Later, He called me a garden, and this time I had a much better response.

“This is all from You,” I assured Him, lovingly. “Because who makes it grow?”

God makes it grow, Jesus replied, His eyes lit up at this.

“And who sows the seed?”

I do, He replied quietly.

“And who sends the rain and who sends the sun?” I asked, tenderly.

The emotion in Jesus was so strong He could not answer.

“Who is the rain?” I whispered, tenderly. “Who is the Son? And who is the wall that keeps it enclosed and who is the husbandman who tends it?”

And we were caught up in love so strong and sweet there were no words, and then there was space enough for me to think and I thought of something.

“Even the earth is the Lord’s, and everything in it, and I am made of earth and so I am Yours. My soul is Your breath and so is Yours. My spirit and my life are Yours. Everything that I have and everything that I am is Yours.”


Formerly, consecration was the offering of ourselves into His hand for Him to do something in us. The consecration in this verse, however, comes after the Lord has done His work. It is not for the purpose of taking something from His hand. The maiden is filled with the Lord's work already, and this joy, this fruit, and this glory should go back to the Lord. Therefore, this is a consecration of the fragrance of the fruit. The same is true with the acceptance here. Formerly, the Lord's acceptance was for the purpose of gaining some ground to plant something. Now the acceptance is not for planting, because "all the chief spices" are in the garden already. Now the acceptance is for pure enjoyment. Formerly, we were a barren ground and there was no way to till it. We consecrated ourselves at that time to His hand and allowed Him to work and make us a perfect garden. Now to whom does the garden belong?"

Song of Songs, by Watchman Nee, (4:16-5:1)


Adonai is my light and my salvation;
    whom shall I fear?
Adonai is the stronghold of my life;
    of whom shall I be afraid?

-Psalm 27:1