Leaning on Her Beloved


Who is this coming up from the wilderness
    leaning on her beloved?
Song of Solomon 8:5

Million dollar question! And one asked by friends who know her. I can so relate.

I haven’t written much lately because it’s like I’ve taken a leap across a canyon but haven’t landed yet. It’s been hard to know where to start and all too often, by the time I sit to write, I am already in a different place. There’s been quite a battle between my self and my spirit, and I’m finally dying. It’s been a slow and painful death, Monty Python style, but worth it to claim a little bit more of my inheritance. A little more freedom. A little more truth. A little more peace. A little more of the abundance that is already mine. Maybe…more than a little!

The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I came that they may have life, and have it abundantly.
~Jesus, John 10:10

The process of identifying lies believed for a lifetime, and the reasons why, has been pretty messy for me. Seeing the subsequent patterns and choices playing out even to this day is heartbreaking. And infuriating. I refuse to let the thief steal any more of what is rightfully mine.

As much as this is a death, it is as much or even more a birth. My spirit has already been made new, but it’s been trapped in a shell formed by a lifetime of false assumptions, beliefs, and self-protective efforts. I am making way for something better. The NEW can only come along when we let go of the OLD.

This week, almost all the teachers I follow spoke or wrote about this topic. Here’s a post by Kris Vallotton:

Lazarus emerged from his tomb at the voice of the Master, alive yet bound. Too many of us are spiritual mummies; we have had a true conversion experience, but we live a life encumbered by the same things that entombed us in the first place. We need to discover how to remove the grave clothes that relegate us to a life of repression, and restrict us from reaching our full potential.

One of my mentors walking me through this reminded me that not all hardships are attacks from the enemy. Some are God-orchestrated to protect us, our anointing, and those watching. He sent me to 2 Corinthians 12, and I love the way this reads in the Message version:

Because of the extravagance of those revelations, and so I wouldn’t get a big head, I was given the gift of a handicap to keep me in constant touch with my limitations. Satan’s angel did his best to get me down; what he in fact did was push me to my knees. No danger then of walking around high and mighty! At first I didn’t think of it as a gift, and begged God to remove it. Three times I did that, and then he told me,
My grace is enough; it’s all you need.
My strength comes into its own in your weakness.
Once I heard that, I was glad to let it happen. I quit focusing on the handicap and began appreciating the gift. It was a case of Christ’s strength moving in on my weakness. Now I take limitations in stride, and with good cheer, these limitations that cut me down to size—abuse, accidents, opposition, bad breaks. I just let Christ take over! And so the weaker I get, the stronger I become.
2 Corinthians 12:7-10

I once heard that “the wilderness” in the Song of Solomon verse refers to a place of weakness. This takes place in the final stages of the story, where her love is (finally) mature. She has stopped hiding from or fighting her weakness and, as a result, has found herself strengthened by leaning on her beloved. There is a total heart surrender, and it births in her a stronger anointing to love. She does not come out feeble, but SOLID. Grounded. There is so much in this story – she starts off housebound, and ends up thriving in the gardens.

I don’t know where I’ll land, but I know it will be great. He is trustworthy.

You who dwell in the gardens
    with friends in attendance,
    let me hear your voice!
~The Beloved, Song of Solomon 8:13