Evening, October 30, edited from Spurgeon’s Morning and Evening

“O you who sit in the gardens, My companions are listening for your voice– Let me hear it!” — Song of Solomon 8:13

My sweet Lord Jesus remembers well the garden of Gethsemane, and although he has left that garden, he now dwells in the garden of his church: there he closely enbraces those who keep his revered company. That voice of love with which he speaks to his beloved is more musical than the harps of heaven. There is a depth of melodious love within it which leaves all human music far behind. Ten of thousands on earth, and millions above, are indulged with its harmonious strains. Some whom I know well, and whom I greatly envy, are at this moment responding to the beloved voice. Oh, that I would be a partaker of their joys! It is true some of these are poor, others bedridden, and some near the gates of death, but Oh, my Lord, I would cheerfully starve with them, ache with them, or die with them, if I might but hear your voice. Once I did hear it often, but I have grieved your Spirit. Return unto me in compassion, and once again say to me, “I am your salvation.” No other voice can make me content; I know your voice, and cannot be deceived by another; let me hear it, I pray. I do not know what you will say, neither do I make any condition, my Beloved, do but let me hear you speak, and even if it is a rebuke I will bless you for it. Perhaps I may need an operation very painful to the flesh to cleanse my deaf ear, but let it cost what it may; I do not turn from the one consuming desire, cause me to hear your voice.  Target my ear afresh; pierce my ear with your sharpest notes, only do not permit me to continue deaf to your calls. Tonight, Lord, grant your unworthy one his desire, for I am yours, and you have bought me with your blood. You have opened my eyes to see you, and the sight has saved me. Lord, open my ears. I have read your heart, now let me hear your voice.