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Song of Solomon 8:5

The Message

Who is this I see coming up from the country, arm in arm with her lover? I found you under the apricot tree, and woke you up to love. Your mother went into labor under that tree, and under that very tree she bore you.

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29 Cross References  

Those who are out to get me are marked for doom, marked for death, bound for hell. They’ll die violent deaths; jackals will tear them limb from limb. But the king is glad in God; his true friends spread the joy, While small-minded gossips are gagged for good.

As an apricot tree stands out in the forest, my lover stands above the young men in town. All I want is to sit in his shade, to taste and savor his delicious love. He took me home with him for a festive meal, but his eyes feasted on me!

Come and look, sisters in Jerusalem. Oh, sisters of Zion, don’t miss this! My King-Lover, dressed and garlanded for his wedding, his heart full, bursting with joy!

What’s this I see, approaching from the desert, raising clouds of dust, Filling the air with sweet smells and pungent aromatics? Look! It’s Solomon’s carriage, carried and guarded by sixty soldiers, sixty of Israel’s finest, All of them armed to the teeth, trained for battle, ready for anything, anytime. King Solomon once had a carriage built from fine-grained Lebanon cedar. He had it framed with silver and roofed with gold. The cushions were covered with a purple fabric, the interior lined with tooled leather.

Come with me from Lebanon, my bride. Leave Lebanon behind, and come. Leave your high mountain hideaway. Abandon your wilderness seclusion, Where you keep company with lions and panthers guard your safety. You’ve captured my heart, dear friend. You looked at me, and I fell in love. One look my way and I was hopelessly in love! How beautiful your love, dear, dear friend— far more pleasing than a fine, rare wine, your fragrance more exotic than select spices. The kisses of your lips are honey, my love, every syllable you speak a delicacy to savor. Your clothes smell like the wild outdoors, the fresh scent of high mountains. Dear lover and friend, you’re a secret garden, a private and pure fountain. Body and soul, you are paradise, a whole orchard of succulent fruits— Ripe apricots and peaches, oranges and pears; Nut trees and cinnamon, and all scented woods; Mint and lavender, and all herbs aromatic; A garden fountain, sparkling and splashing, fed by spring waters from the Lebanon mountains.

“Has anyone ever seen anything like this— dawn-fresh, moon-lovely, sun-radiant, ravishing as the night sky with its galaxies of stars?”

I wish you’d been my twin brother, sharing with me the breasts of my mother, Playing outside in the street, kissing in plain view of everyone, and no one thinking anything of it. I’d take you by the hand and bring you home where I was raised by my mother. You’d drink my wine and kiss my cheeks.

Thunder in the desert! “Prepare for God’s arrival! Make the road straight and smooth, a highway fit for our God. Fill in the valleys, level off the hills, Smooth out the ruts, clear out the rocks. Then God’s bright glory will shine and everyone will see it. Yes. Just as God has said.”

So, my friends, this is something like what has taken place with you. When Christ died he took that entire rule-dominated way of life down with him and left it in the tomb, leaving you free to “marry” a resurrection life and bear “offspring” of faith for God. For as long as we lived that old way of life, doing whatever we felt we could get away with, sin was calling most of the shots as the old law code hemmed us in. And this made us all the more rebellious. In the end, all we had to show for it was miscarriages and stillbirths. But now that we’re no longer shackled to that domineering mate of sin, and out from under all those oppressive regulations and fine print, we’re free to live a new life in the freedom of God.




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