Journals of the Heart

“Your lips drop sweetness as the honeycomb, my bride; milk and honey are under your tongue. The fragrance of your garments is like that of Lebanon” (Song of Songs 4:11 NIV).

O, passionate one, lover of God, I am so delighted in you. Thoughts of you caress the deepest parts of My infinite being. When you breathe and exhale, releasing My life giving air, it floats like shimmers of sunshine in the early morning, rippling across the oceans of My heart. Your very essence dances upon the burning embers of My presence.

You are sweeter than the honeycomb. You are like pure nectar flowing from the heart of honeysuckle flowers, for you suckle from divine communion with Me. How intimate this seems to you, yet you are never afraid; always diving head long into the deep places of My heart where others are not willing to go until they see you go.

You are a pioneer with a backbone of steel and a gaze like flint, venturing into the outer limits of the glory realm. Like Me, you are a complicated mixture of tough and sweet, mercy and responsibility, passion and tenderness, encased in worship-encapsulated with the armor of war. Many are chosen but few come. You are one who will come and I am calling. You are completely lovely to Me. Arise and come. I have new things to show you.