"A secret place of encounter - the intimacy of the Garden"

“Let Him kiss me with the kisses of His mouth! For Your love is better than wine.”
— Song of Songs 1:2
 

This kiss—it is not sensual.
It is sacred.

It is the kiss of revelation, the divine voice that meets the deep waters of the soul and names what even I could not articulate. The moment He speaks—truly speaks—and His voice is unmistakably Him, everything changes.

It was 3:33 p.m. when He whispered into the silence of my ache, not once, but three times:

“I love you so much.”
“I love you so much.”
“I love you so much.”
 

And between these three kisses, three affirmations of His undying love, He breathed out the lines that exposed both my beauty and my wounds:

“Your heart is so tender.”
“You’ve been through so much. You've been hurt.”
“You felt rejected and abandoned.”
 

This was not just comfort.
It was awakening.

I had known about His love. I had heard it in sermons, spoken it in testimonies. I even wept at the idea of it. But the kiss of His mouth—the rhema word (Matthew 4:4)—pierced through every veil I had unknowingly worn. It answered every unspoken plea, every battle-scarred prayer I had released in the night. And in that moment, I was no longer a servant trying to earn affection.
I was a bride being claimed.

“For Your love is better than wine.”
— Song of Songs 1:2b
 

His love intoxicates—but not like wine that numbs the senses.
His love awakens.

The day He called me, “the one I have been looking for,” was the day the scroll of my soul began to unfurl (Psalm 139:16). 

That phrase pierced through every emotional entanglement, every misdirected fantasy, every place where rejection had carved its signature. I didn’t understand it fully then—how could I? My longings were still raw. My heart, still divided. 

But His kiss reoriented everything.

Because it came from the one my soul had been unknowingly aching for.
And now, no matter how far I wander, I return.
Because I have tasted love that is better than wine—and I cannot go back.

“Because of the fragrance of your good ointments, your name is as ointment poured forth; therefore, the virgins love You.”
— Song of Songs 1:3
 

His name is not just spoken—it is poured.
Yeshua—Healer, Anointed One, Salvation.

His name is not only what He is called, but who He is. His name carries fragrance—like the costly spikenard broken at His feet (John 12:3). It fills the room of my spirit, even when silence lingers.

“The name of the Lord is a strong tower; the righteous run to it and are safe.”
— Proverbs 18:10
 

Yes, I often use “Jesus” when speaking to others—because it’s familiar.
But in the hidden place, I whisper “Yeshua”.
Because there was a time I feared a false Jesus.
I had read books that twisted my understanding, that made me recoil. But He came—not only to reveal Himself, but to redeem His name in my heart.
Now, His name does not make me cautious.
It makes me bow.

And it is no wonder that the virgins love Him—the pure, the hungry, the waiting ones.
He draws those who long for the real, not the performance.
Those who ache for presence, not performance.
Those who are not married yet, but set apart as lovers.

My name is Salvacion—Salvation.
His name is Yeshua—The Lord Saves.

Together, our names echo the divine mystery:

“You will call His name Jesus, for He will save His people from their sins.”
— Matthew 1:21
 

I am the one He saves.
He is the One who saves me.
And somehow, the very naming of us tells the story.
His story.
Our story.