Evening, September 24, edited from Spurgeon’s Morning and Evening

“I was asleep but my heart was awake.” — Song of Solomon 5:2

Paradoxes abound in Christian experience, and here is one–the spouse was asleep, and yet she was awake. The only one who can understand this riddle is one who has labored in the same realm of experience. The two points in this evening’s text are a mournful sleepiness, and a hopeful wakefulness. I sleep. Through sin that  dwells in us we may become  negligent in holy  responsibilities, slothful in religious  training, dull in spiritual joys, and generally,  carelessly flat on our back. This is a shameful state for one in whom the  life-giving Spirit dwells; and it is dangerous to the highest degree. Even wise virgins sometimes slumber, but it is high time for all to shake off the bands of slothfulness. It rightly should be feared that many believers may lose their strength as Samson lost his locks, while sleeping on the lap of worldly security. With a perishing world around us, to sleep is heartless; with eternity so near at hand, it is madness. Yet none of us are as much awake as we should be; a few thunderclaps would do us all good, and it may be, unless we soon stir up ourselves, we shall have them in the form of war, or pestilence, or personal bereavements and losses. O, that we may leave forever the couch of human ease, and go forth with flaming torches to meet the coming Bridegroom! My heart wakes. This is a happy sign. Life is not extinguished, though sadly, smothered. When our renewed heart struggles against our natural heaviness, we should be grateful to sovereign grace for keeping a little vitality within the body of this death. Jesus will hear our hearts, will help our hearts, will visit our hearts; for the voice of the wakeful heart is really the voice of our Beloved, saying, “Open to me.” Holy zeal will surely unbar the door.

“Oh lovely attitude! He stands

With melting heart and laden hands;

My soul forsakes her every sin;

And lets the heavenly stranger in.”

With edits struck out but remaining (every so often I may do this that readers may critique my editing): 

Paradoxes abound in Christian experience, and here is one–the spouse was asleep, and yet she was awake.  He only can read the believer’s riddle who has ploughed with the heifer of his experience The only one who can understand this riddle is one who has labored in the same realm of experience. The two points in this evening’s text are:  A mournful sleepiness and a hopeful wakefulness. I sleep. Through sin that dwelleth dwells in us we may become lax negligent in holy duties responsibilities, slothful in religious exercises training, dull in spiritual joys, and altogether generally, supine and careless carelessly flat on their back. This is a shameful state for one in whom the quickening life-giving Spirit dwells; and it is dangerous to the highest degree. Even wise virgins sometimes slumber, but it is high time for all to shake off the bands of sloth slothfulness. It is to be rightly should be feared that many believers may lose their strength as Samson lost his locks, while sleeping on the lap of carnal worldly security. With a perishing world around us, to sleep is cruel heartless; with eternity so near at hand, it is madness. Yet we are none of us so none of us are as much awake as we should be; a few thunderclaps would do us all good, and it may be, unless we soon bestir stir up ourselves, we shall have them in the form of war, or pestilence, or personal bereavements and losses. O, that we may leave forever the couch of fleshly human ease, and go forth with flaming torches to meet the coming Bridegroom! My heart waketh wakes. This is a happy sign. Life is not extinct extinguished, though sadly, smothered. When our renewed heart struggles against our natural heaviness, we should be grateful to sovereign grace for keeping a little vitality within the body of this death. Jesus will hear our hearts, will help our hearts, will visit our hearts; for the voice of the wakeful heart is really the voice of our Beloved, saying, “Open to me.” Holy zeal will surely unbar the door.

“Oh lovely attitude! He stands

With melting heart and laden hands;

My soul forsakes her every sin;

And lets the heavenly stranger in.”