Spurgeon: May AM
"His cheeks are as a bed of spices, as sweet flowers."
--Song of Solomon 5:13
Lo, the flowery month is come! March winds and April showers
have done their work, and the earth is all bedecked with beauty.
Come my soul, put on thine holiday attire and go forth to gather
garlands of heavenly thoughts. Thou knowest whither to betake
thyself, for to thee "the beds of spices" are well known, and
thou hast so often smelt the perfume of "the sweet flowers,"
that thou wilt go at once to thy well-beloved and find all
loveliness, all joy in Him. That cheek once so rudely smitten
with a rod, oft bedewed with tears of sympathy and then defiled
with spittle--that cheek as it smiles with mercy is as fragrant
aromatic to my heart. Thou didst not hide Thy face from shame
and spitting, O Lord Jesus, and therefore I will find my dearest
delight in praising Thee. Those cheeks were furrowed by the
plough of grief, and crimsoned with red lines of blood from Thy
thorn-crowned temples; such marks of love unbounded cannot but
charm my soul far more than "pillars of perfume." If I may not
see the whole of His face I would behold His cheeks, for the
least glimpse of Him is exceedingly refreshing to my spiritual
sense and yields a variety of delights. In Jesus I find not only
fragrance, but a bed of spices; not one flower, but all manner
of sweet flowers. He is to me my rose and my lily, my heart's-
ease and my cluster of camphire. When He is with me it is May
all the year round, and my soul goes forth to wash her happy
face in the morning-dew of His grace, and to solace herself with
the singing of the birds of His promises. Precious Lord Jesus,
let me in very deed know the blessedness which dwells in
abiding, unbroken fellowship with Thee. I am a poor worthless
one, whose cheek Thou hast deigned to kiss! O let me kiss Thee
in return with the kisses of my lips.