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

Song of Songs 2:8–end | A Journal-Narrative Reflection

“The voice of my Beloved! Behold, He comes leaping on the mountains, skipping on the hills.”
— Song of Songs 2:8

I heard His voice before I saw His form.
It wasn’t a thunderclap. It wasn’t fire.
It was the sound of movement—of One approaching with joy, urgency, and victory in His stride.

He was leaping, skipping—like a Bridegroom rushing toward His beloved.

“He will exult over you with singing.”
— Zephaniah 3:17 

His voice shattered my silence.
Not to explain, but to invite.
Not to answer all my questions, but to claim my heart.

“Arise, My love, My beautiful one, and come away!”
— Song of Songs 2:10

This is the season of invitation.
He is not pacing. He is pursuing.
His call is no longer distant or vague.
It is urgent, intimate, unstoppable.

I remember the dream.
I was awakened by six angels—three on either side. They escorted me, swift and deliberate, like ones under assignment.
There was no time for delay.

I was led into what I can only describe as a chamber—cloaked not in architecture but in Spirit.
He stood there—not in full glory that would consume me, nor in flesh I could grasp—but in His essence.

And then, He spoke:

“My wife, My bride.”
Not just “daughter.” Not just “servant.”
He called me as one betrothed.

I ran to Him—not in shame, but in longing.
And we embraced like those who were always meant to find one another again.
Like Adam seeing Eve.
Like the Bridegroom reclaiming the Bride.

And as I leaned into Him, I felt it.
A deposit—not of thought, but of substance.
Something was placed in my spiritual womb.
A seed.
A scroll.
A covenant.

“I will give you the treasures of darkness and hidden riches of secret places…”
— Isaiah 45:3

He was giving me more than comfort.
He was giving me promise.
I didn’t ask for it.
I received it.

“You are the one I have been looking for.”

These words were His first kiss.
Not on my cheek or lips, but upon my identity.
They silenced every voice of rejection, shame, or striving.
They rewrote my name in the Spirit.

And I replied—not in eloquence, but in surrender.

“Here I am. Let it be to me according to Your word.” (cf. Luke 1:38)

Since then, every whisper has been an echo of that moment.
Every silence, a deepening of that intimacy.

“The King has brought me into His chambers.”
— Song of Songs 1:4

Not to observe.
To become.
Not to strive.
To abide.

Each chamber is a new unveiling.
A deeper knowing.
A quieter resting.

And over me—over my life, over my womb, over my waiting—is a banner.

“His banner over me is love.”
— Song of Songs 2:4

This banner is not a feeling.
It is a covering.
It is government.
It is covenant.

I have known Him as:

Savior (Isaiah 43:11)
Lord (Psalm 23:1)
Healer (Exodus 15:26)
 

But now, I know Him as Bridegroom.

“As the bridegroom rejoices over the bride, so shall your God rejoice over you.”
— Isaiah 62:5

This knowing is not theological—it is relational.
This union is not theoretical—it is covenantal.

I am no longer wandering, no longer searching.

I am found.
I am claimed.

“Do not stir up or awaken love until it pleases.”
— Song of Songs 2:7

Let no one awaken this love with urgency not born of heaven.
Let no voice dilute what He has called holy.
Let no distraction pull me from the chamber He has called me into.

He has claimed me.
And I will spend my life responding to that claim—

With trust.
With surrender.
With love.