Make Haste, My Beloved

Song of Solomon 8:14 Make haste, my beloved, and be like a gazelle or a young stag on the mountains of spices.

I must go away, My Love, My spouse, but I will come again. I have spoken words of reassurance and of promise to you. I have spoken from my heart.  From my bosom My Son has declared my love to you.  My Words must be your courage now; the Words I have written upon your heart. As I dipped my brush into the color of love and painted upon your surface, this must now serve you for comfort. .

I chose you before time began, and I knew one day you would rule with me and sit upon my throne as my bride and queen. I created you for My throne, and My throne was created for you...

I am going away to prepare our home so that I may bring you back in the appointed time. You ask when will I return? It will be in the fullness of time, when time is completed and eternity will be in the heart of every painting I have painted.

Make haste, my beloved and be like a gazelle on the mountain. Remember when you came to me skipping on the mountain top and I would not leave the comfort of my wall to come to you. I had so many reason not to come away with you. I fought you but I was fighting myself.  I will be ready now. I will put away my fickled heart, my roving eye, my thirst for worldly things. I am ready to be your bride.

Be patient my dove, the one who I hid in the crevise of the rock, the one I created to be mine, to have and hold for everlasting to everlasting, from the beginning of eternity to the end of eternity. The one I wept for. I cried when you didn't understand and you turned your face from mine. My love continued to hold you in your darkest hours and the winters of your soul. It was necessary for you to bear my image upon your heart.

You will  not completely understand until I come again. Until then, be my light and love to this dark canvas  of creation. I will return, you have my word.
Come quickly, my Love

Destined to Rule

Song of Solomon 8:6, 7 Set me as a seal upon your heart, as a seal upon your arm; For love is as strong as death, Jealousy as cruel as the grave; Its flames are flames of fire, A most vehement flame.  Many waters cannot quench love. Nor can the floods drown it. If a man would give for love all the wealth of his house, it would be utterly despised.

My love has drawn you , you have become equal to my throne. I have painted my heart upon the soul of your canvas. I have set you as a seal upon my heart, I have fought for you as vehemently as a burning, raging fire. All those times you felt I was unfair, or I ask too much, I was only asking for you to wear my likeness upon  your face and become the expressed image of my love.. 

Allow Me, as your artist to enter My canvas, "I came to my own, but they would not receive Me." But I came to you, I saw your heart and I knew one day you would and could receive my love. You have learned wealth is to be utterly despised in comparison to love.


Your touch has been soft and gentle upon my soul. At times, I felt them to be angry, but they weren't, it was me who was resisting in anger.  I did not know who I was to be. I tried to be many things for many people, I tried to be that one that someone could love. I tired to change me, but I couldn't. I have fought you, I have betrayed you at times, but I have always cried out for you. And all the time, you were saying, "I understand you, my love is enough. Trust me."


As for me, I will see Your face in righteousness; I shall be satisfied when I awake in Your likeness." Psalm 17:15 Your love has drawn me

My bride, my spouse, my love, rule with me in love  Be to others what I have been  to you, so that they may see  that I am compassionate and mericiful and I have come to them. I will paint my image upon them, and they will complete my painting, just as you have..,

Dancing with the Angels

Song of Solomon 6:13 What would you see in the Shulamite - As it were, the dance of the two camps.



Dancing with the Angels

 I have fought to be loved. I have fought to dance with the Master Painter. I have learned to yeild to Him and have refused my own way.

My Love, you have the victory song within you. You have learned to dance with the unseen. You have learned to bring harmony from the creator to the creation.

You, myCanvas is almost finished. The values, the hues and the design is a perfect composition. Dance my love, dance. Dance with me as One.

The Victory Song

The heart of a willing soul

claimng her seat upon the throne.

Victory is her song

Calvary is her claim.

Death and life fought

side by side until life had won,

as a dance between armies

seen and unseen.

The struggle of life tore

apart this vessel

until the light shone

the flesh surrendered.

The Spirit claiming victory

the flesh releasing its claim.

They they danced as One.



This, My Friend

Song of Solomon 5:10,11,16

My beloved is white and ruddy, Chief among ten thousand. His head is like the finest gold; His locks are wavy, and black as a raven...His mouth is most sweet, Yes, he is altogether lovely. This is my beloved, and this is my friend, O daughters of Jerusalem!

My Friend

I asked everyone if they had seen my friend. I explained to them what he looked like. I turned him away, and now I can not sleep without him.

"What is your beloved, more than another beloved, O fairest among women? What is your beloved more than another beloved, that you so charge us to tell you if we find you. You asked us to tell him you are lovesick.

He is the love of my life, he is more than any other or another beloved. He can not be compared. He is Love, the love I wanted and did not know how to receive.

Where has your beloved gone, O fairest among women? Where has your beloved turned aside, that we may seek him with you?

This, my Friend!

The measure of a friend

cannot be marked

distance far or near, stand the same.

Words passed between two friends

need not be uttered.

A soft heart

of total acceptance binds my fears away

capturing the unconquered.

This, my friend, takes me to

the highest point of my existence

and yet brings me

to the nearness of my own heart.

An anchor to steady me,

my hope rooted in solid ground.

My beloved is altogether lovely

and this is my friend!

Wounded

Song of Solomon 5:6,7 I opened for my  beloved, but my beloved had turned away and was gone. My heart went out to him when he spoke. I sought him, but I could not find him; I called him, but he gave no answer. The watchmen who went about the city found me. They struck me, they wounded me, the keepers of the walls took my veil away from me.

Why were they so angry with me? They struck me and took off my veil. I turned away my love, He came to me as the Man of Sorrow. Before I could reach for the door, He was gone, I looked for him and I asked others if they had seen Him, they beat me. I felt his myrrh on my fingers, the pain went to my heart.

My Dear creation, the world hates me, they will hate you. You have identified with me and those who fight their maker are convicted and mocked by your love and desperation for me.

They took off my veil. They took away my dignity, they laid me bare.

My precious one, you are beginning to feel the pain of the one who you turned away. You have agreed to receive the Man of Sorrow. This is the marking of the cross on your soul. It is not you they hate, it is Me they hate.

Wounded

So misunderstood, my hart is in despair

so alone with feelings of confusion.

Friends I expect to understand

become the wounds in my flesh.

My heart wants to run

away from scrutinizing jeers.

My love worn outwardly

bears unwanted truth to unready hearts.

The wounds in my sou,

pierced by a two-edged sword.

Cutting between my soul and spirit

only to become my weapon of truth

discerning my own thoughts and intents.

My heart stands naked and opened

to the eyes of Him

to whom I must give an account.

My wounds, too, are not hidden

from His sight.

I must some day stand judged. 

Man of Sorrow

Man of Sorrow

Song of Solomon 5:2 "I sleep, but my heart is awake; It is the voice of my beloved. He knocks, saying, 'open for me, my sister, my love, my dove, my perfect one; for my head is covered with dew, My locks with the drops of the night.'"

How can I open to you, I have taken off my robe; how can I put in on again? Do you know what you are asking? I have washed my feet, how can I defile them?

The Master Painter responds, "You do not know what I am asking? I am going to the cross for you, I am asking you to come with me. Unless you have the mark of the cross on you, you will not know resurrected life or the power of it. I am asking to lay my head upon your bosom. Let me know you understand what I must do. I am tired and weary. I need you to understand."

You are scaring me. I don't want to know you as the suffering one, I want to know you as King. I have washed myself, I have done all the things I need to do. Come back when I am ready.

My foolish sister, it is my love that has washed you, and prepared you for the throne. Open to me, I stand at your door. My hands are filled with myrrh, my fingers with liquid myrrh, this sorrow is for you. 

My heart responded, but it was too late. I reached for the opening in the door, and I felt his pain on my finger tips, when I opened to Him, He was gone.

A Garden Enclosed

Song of Solomon 4:12,15 "A garden enclosed is my sister, my spouse. A spring shut up, a fountain sealed. .. A fountain of gardens, a well of living waters, and streams from Lebanon."

The Master Painter looked at His creation. It is the planting of His soul on the face of earth. In a spot on earth, He called His own, He put into it His heart. He called the Canvas His garden. 

"I have planted in you my love, My creation of flowers and special spices, I have caused fountains of water to spring forth, I have caused it to run as streams to a thirsty earth. Surrender to Me, my love, I have brought heaven into you.

I have felt the red brush of passion sweep across my surface, I have not understood the green drops across my torso and white swirls of baby breaths across my heart. Why have you taken so much care with me, I am just a clump of clay, hard and brittle?

I have made you a witness for my beauty.  I want the whole earth to see My glory in you. You are My Master Piece.  I have a beautiful image in My mind. You do not know who you will be, but I do. Trust Me.
It will be a garden for others to take nourishment from and drink new life.

Surrender to My touch, my sister, my spouse.

Song of Solomon 5:1 "I have come into my garden...I have gathered my myrrh with my spice; I have eaten my honeycomb  with my honey; I have drunk my wine with my mile. Eat, O friends... Drink abundantly O beloved."

Meadows of Grace

As the little flowers lift their heads

full of expectant praise,

their beauty captures all eyes

and their fragrance...

Happy to be where

children laugh and play

where problems fade away.

When day is done and everyone is gone

little flowers no longer

lift their heads,

crushed under the careless play.

As the children run away

forgetful of the meadows left behind

carrying with them

the fragrance of the day.

Where children touch you, they touch my fragrance of this day.

The Wall

The Wall (Oil 24X30)

Song of Solomon 2:8-11 The voice of my Beloved, Behold, he comes, Leaping upon the mountains, skipping upon the hills, My beloved is like a gazelle or a young stag.

Behold He stands behind our wall, He is looking through the windows, Gazing through the lattice, My beloved spoke, and said to me: Rise up, my love, my fair one, and come away, for lo the winter is past, the rain is over and gone. The flowers appear on the earth, the time of singing has come and the voice of the turtledove is heard in our land.

The Canvas called back to the Master Artist. "I am comfortable within my wall, do not make me go where I do not want to go. Especially on the mountain top where you skip like a gazelle.

I have given you feet like hinds feet, and I will never call you to go any where that I am not. I am resurrected Life, and for you to come alive, you must follow me, you must move to my touch. The winter has past, there are flowers appearing and singing has come. Even the turtledove is heard in our land.

I am still petting the winter months when harsh days took away my dignity and purpose. How can I hear singing when voices of the past still sound in my head?

You must trust my voice. I want you with me, bur you must leave your wall, your comfort, the old life and come away, my Beloved.

Turn now and go and come again when I am ready.

Unfolding Beauty

Unfolding Beauty

Song of Solomon 2:6 "His left hand is under my head, and his right hand embraces me. I charge you, O daughters of Jerusalem, By the gazelles or by the does of the field, do not sitr up nor awaken love until it pleases."

The Canvas yields to the Artist, "He has brought me to the banqueting house, and his banner over me is love. Sustain me with cakes of raisins, refresh me with apples, for I am lovesick."

You are beautiful my fair one, I have brought you to the banqueting room, to show you the enjoyment of  love. Trust my embrace, trust my right hand of authority and my left hand of provision. I have gathered you up into my arms.

I am sick with love. I have not felt this way before. I have not been here in anyone's safe embrace. Teach me how to trust your love. Teach me how to be loved.

Unfolding Beauty

Captured by love,

life began to unfold...

each petal open to new heights above.

The king sings his love songs

to my heart,

sweet songs of redemption,

peace to my hassled soul.

A choice flower, He calls me,

just perfect for His need,

causing me to know who

I was intended to be.

"Like a lily among thorns, so is my love among the daughters," Song of Solomon 2:2

Gentle Wooing

Gently Wooing

Song of Solomon 1:7 "Tell me, O you whom I love, where you feed your flock, where you make it rest at noon. For why should I be as one who veils herself, by the flocks of your companions?

The Master Artist responded to the need of His creation, "If you do not know, O fairest among women, follow in the footsteps of the flock, and feed your little goats beside the shepherds' tents." SOS 1:8

The Canvas cried out, "Where do I belong? I have left my brother's vineyard and now I am between what I know and what I do not know. I do not know how to belong in your world. My only recourse is to walk with your sheep and stay close to what seems like your way.

The Creator approached His canvas and heard the cry of her soul, "I know how you are to be. Right now, you are incomplete, you do not know what I have in store for you. You do not know that you are undone, except you see your dark skin and you feel you look different. I need to show you it is not your skin but your heart, I need to change.

You must learn a new walk. Stay close to me, stay by my tent. You will learn one step at a time, how it is to enter into my world.

Gently Wooing

Drawn with gently cords,

bonds of love,

resistance fails

as His mighty love draws me close.

Constraining love bursts forth

beyond the boundaries so familiar

in cautious response,

a new life begun.

The sweetness of new wine pours forth

a taste of heaven

and the goodness of God.

Oh, so sweet to trust the Saviour

and His precious name.

I must be with Him,

my heart's delight.

Just a glimpse of His gentle eyes

a word from Him

just knowing I Belong.

Neglected Soul

Song of Solomon 1:6 - "Look not upon me, because I am black, because the sun hath looked upon me. My mother's children were angry with me; they made me the keeper of the vineyards, but mine own vineyard have I not kept."

Why would you look upone me. I am rugged because of my existence. I do not know to be pampered, I only know to be what I need to be for others.

The Master Artist responds, "My dear child, did you not know that I put you in the vineyard to begin to show you where you were and how far you needed to come. I allowed others to treat you badly, so you would understand the tenderness of love.

But what must I do with the years that have been taken from me in bitterness, when my brothers taunted me and my life had no purpose?

Understand, my love, my soul, you are all you are suppose to be, and the years that have been stolen from you will be given to you back in double blessing. You could not know the double blessing without the pain.

Negletect Soul

Battered about with life cares

bending to the demans of others,

unaware of hr own neglected soul.

Do not look upon her

there is nothing to see

just someone,

just another face.

Oh neglected soul,

you have a saviour...

Jesus is His name.

He has been drawing you

from the very first day.

Awakened by a seed of faith

dropped into a needy heart,

watered by heaven's dew,

beginning life anew.

No longer a neglected soul

she will know her worth

accepted in the Beloved

the King has called her today.

Bohemian Rapsody

Song of Solomon 7:1-5 How beautiful are your feet in sandals, O prince's daughter! The curves of your thighs are like jewels, The work of the hands of a skillful workman, Your navel is a roun ded goblet; It lacks no blended beverage. Your waist is a heap of wheat set about with lilies. Your two breasts are like two fawns, twins of a gazelle. Your neck is like an ivory tower; your eyes like the pools in Heshbon, By the gate of Bath Rabbim. Your nose is like the tower of Lebanon which looks toward Damascus. Your head crowns you li ke Mount Carmel, and the hair of your head is like purple. A king is held captive by your tresses. 
The Daughters of Jerusalem expresses their agreement about the bride's unique beauty.

"Your head crowns you like Mount Carmel, and the hair of your head is like purpole. A king is held captive by your tresses."

The Master Painter  has expressed his heart for the soul of the canvas. "You have held me captive by your tresses. I find great delight as I paint each stroke of your hair. With purple on my brush, I make each stroke of your hair with precise design. I am captived by your beauty."

The Canvas responds, " I do not see what holds you to me. I am not worthy of your attention and yet I feel smug in who I am. Why is that? .

The Master Painter continues, "There is a rthymn that dances on the canvas as if green leaves design your garment and twine around your torsel and adorn your neck of ivory. You are my poem, you are the expression of my heart, I have created you from the beauty of my heart and I am held captive as if you have paraded me down the street in a parade. I am not ashamed to be called yours.

Why you feel smug in your design is that you have my heart imprinted on you in love. What could you lack? But you must surrender to the Artist in order to be connected with my beauty and love.

"Cause me to love you, so that I can love myself. I feel the music, the rapsody of the Bohemian, but I do not feel your love. Is it because I still love myself too much?"

His response, "Yes, my fair one, How pleasant you are, O love, with your delights. "