Song of Solomon 8:14 “Make haste, my beloved, and be thou like to a a roe or to a young hart upon the mountains of spices.” The last request of our beloved is that he may hear our voice. What is our heart cry back to him? Hurry back! Maranatha! Oh Lord, may you come today! Fly to me with the speed with which one might flee from his enemies.
This verse is the poignant closing to Solomon’s song. Interestingly, once the introduction to the book was given, the book both begins and ends with expressions of the bride’s desire for intimacy with her husband. After all the experiences of first love, their marriage, and now mature love, her greatest desire in life is simply to be with him. Not surprisingly, we find this same urgent desire expressed at the end of Revelation: “And the Spirit and the bride say, Come. And let him that heareth say, Come… Even so, come, Lord Jesus” (Revelation 22:17,20).
Oh, isn’t this what we’re longing for…to see his blessed face? To behold him in his beauty and dwell with him forever? If you’ve experienced the joy of marriage, stop a moment and remember the longing with which you anticipated that event! Together always. It was going to be too good to be true! I remember discussing length of engagement with my mother and saying, “It’s like asking, ‘So when do you want to inherit a million dollars?’ As soon as possible, of course!” (My husband was working as a mechanic his father’s garage at the time, so I was not referring to money!) When will he come? As I’m writing, the clouds in the eastern sky are just beginning to pink up, and our little lake is awash in mottled pinks and blues…very like Aurora’s wedding dress in Disney’s Sleeping Beauty. When I walked my husband out to the car and waved goodbye to him just a half hour ago, the stars were still like bright, shiny diamonds on a black velvet dress. How suddenly and gloriously day broke this crisp fall morning! (Well, today is only the end of July, but it was late October when I wrote this years ago.) The trees are beginning to emerge from the darkness, and they’re crowned with shaggy heads of crimson and gold. A touch of frost is on the grass, and wisps of mist hover here and there across the lake on thin, translucent wings. Yesterday a long, southbound train of ducks pulled in to rest here at “Shadow Lake Station,” but they’re gone now, and all is still save one pair of great blue herons who summer here every year. I just watched them circle and fly away. I don’t know when they’ll leave for their winter home…or maybe that’s what I just witnessed. How true it is that autumn flies on colored wings! Dear Lord, when will we fly away?
When you hear the expression, “Maranatha!” it usually means, “Come, Lord!” I think the words to this Vineyard song written by Brenton Brown and Glenn Robertson expresses it so well:
“All Who Are Thirsty”
“All who are thirsty
All who are weak
Just come to the fountain
Dip your heart in the stream of life
Let the pain and the sorrow
Be washed away
In the waves of His mercy
As the deep cries out to deep, we sing…
“Come, Lord Jesus come
Come, Lord Jesus come
Come, Lord Jesus come
Come, Lord Jesus come.”