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Morning and Evening

May 1, Morning

C. H. Spurgeon · Modern retelling

"His cheeks are as a bed of spices, as sweet flowers." — Song of Songs 5:13 · KJV

The flowery month has come! March winds and April showers have done their work, and the earth is dressed in beauty. Come, my soul, put on your holiday clothes and go out to gather garlands of heavenly thoughts. You know where to go, for "the beds of spices" are familiar ground to you, and you have breathed the perfume of "the sweet flowers" so often that you will go straight to your Beloved and find all loveliness, all joy, in Him. That cheek was once struck rudely with a rod, often wet with tears of sympathy, then insulted and defiled; and yet that same cheek, smiling with mercy, is the sweetest fragrance my heart knows. You did not hide Your face from shame and contempt, O Lord Jesus, and so I will make praising You my dearest delight. Those cheeks were furrowed by the plow of grief and marked with red lines from Your thorn-crowned temples; such evidence of boundless love charms my soul far more than any pillar of perfume could. If I may not see the whole of His face, let me at least behold His cheeks, for the smallest glimpse of Him refreshes my spiritual senses and yields delight upon delight. In Jesus I find not merely a fragrance but a whole bed of spices, not one flower but every kind of sweet flower. He is my rose and my lily, my comfort and my cluster of fragrant blossoms. When He is with me it is May all year round, and my soul goes out to wash her happy face in the morning dew of His grace and to cheer herself with the singing of the birds of His promises. Precious Lord Jesus, let me truly know the blessedness that lives in unbroken fellowship with You. I am poor and worthless, and yet You have stooped to kiss my cheek. Let me kiss You in return with the kisses of my lips.