I have never been a writer of love songs....

It is not because I have not known love - I am fifteen years down an incredible journey of the heart with Kelsey....but my mind just doesn't go that route. Probably much to Kels' discontentation, most any little diddy I start singing invariably ends up being about something as profound as a squirrel's death march across a busy road or with me trying to find the perfect rhyme for 'orange'.

All that to say that this morning, I find myself lost in a love song.

Solomon was a prolific lyricist. I believe his palace was probably littered with notebooks, scraps of paper, Skyline Chili napkins...all with words jotted down. Some were hits, others were no doubt misses, but there was one song he called his Song of Songs. The Mother of all Love Songs, if you will.

In comparison with the height of frustration that Solomon expresses in his Ecclesiastes, the Song of Songs displays his heart at rest in the depths of love. At once allegorical and prophetic, the book gives us a picture of Christ's love affair with his most unlikely love interest - the offspring of Eve, whose indiscretion in the garden required His very life. This is more than the star of the football team falling for the dorky girl. This is the executioner's son giving his heart - and his life - for a condemned woman, wholly for justice and wholly for love.

As I slipped into the prayer room early this morning, the worship leader was easing into the refrain "You are beautiful, my sweet, sweet Song...." This morning, I sing a love song...

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