Strangely enough, at the start of 2026, I found myself unexpectedly reluctant to begin my usual practice of reading through the Bible in a year. The prospect of once again ploughing through four chapters a day—just to check a box and record that I had completed the assignment—began to fill me with a mild sense of ennui. This was odd, given my immense love for Scripture.
I had to exercise keen discernment as to whether this strange resistance warranted a “get thee behind me, Satan” kind of response. But then I intuited something even more startling—and frankly, scandalous. This nebulous prompting felt as though it was originating from God Himself, who didn’t seem particularly enthusiastic about my yearly religious QT ritual either.
As I attempted to fathom and unpack God’s thoughts toward my dilemma, I arrived at an unsettling conclusion. Even though my justifications—duties, tiredness, travel—were valid reasons to continue indulging my familiar annual routine, this revelation threatened to invalidate them all.
Because, somewhere along the way, my doing had displaced my delighting.
My reading had replaced my reveling.
Somehow I had inadvertently allowed the little foxes to ruin the vineyards that were blooming.
And God was a bit miffed.
If I truly believed that my Maker is my Husband (Isaiah 54:5), that He has betrothed me to Himself forever (Hosea 2:19), and that He is also a consuming fire and a jealous God (Deuteronomy 4:24), then I had better beware of relegating this divine romance to the level of a comfortable old marriage—one marked by love, security, trust, and friendship, but where passion and tingling delight have been quietly retired and tucked away under a cozy comforter.
And so I resolved: this year I would ask the Holy Spirit what He wanted me to read. I would then savour just one chapter a day, along with its commentary, and spend the remaining time simply enjoying His Presence.
So it didn’t surprise me too much when the book He led me to begin the year with was the Song of Songs—that breathtaking compilation of the most vivid expressions of passionate love between a shepherd-king and the object of his obsession.
It seemed that I needed a reminder to stir up and awaken love, because the time was right.
I needed a reminder of the sublime glory of divine and human love juxtaposed in this paean of passion.
I needed a reminder of the delights of intimacy, longing, surrender and satisfaction.
I needed a reminder to gaze with dove’s eyes and to desire only the Beloved.
I needed a reminder to “rise up and come away” with Him often.
I needed a reminder to walk together in the garden of delights—to eat and drink and be drunk with love.
I needed a reminder to be careful not to leave my first love.
It soon became evident that these reminders were not meant for me alone, but for all who love and follow Jesus.
A Bride who is not besotted with her Bridegroom will be easily enticed by the temptations and distractions of the world.
A Bride who is not obsessed with her Bridegroom will allow her angry brothers to make her work in their fields- while neglecting her own vineyard (Song of Songs 1:6).
Herein then lies our protection. We must echo this same cry of the Shulamite woman to her Beloved:
“Set me as a seal upon your heart, as a seal upon your arm,
for love is strong as death, jealousy is fierce as the grave.
Its flashes are flashes of fire, the very flame of the LORD.
Many waters cannot quench love, neither can floods drown it.
If a man offered for love all the wealth of his house,
he would be utterly despised.”
—Song of Solomon 8:6–7
Let’s unpack this further.
“Set me as a seal upon your heart, as a seal upon your arm,”
To be set as a seal upon the heart and the arm speaks of permanent belonging, identity, and protection. This is covenantal language: I am my Beloved’s, and my Beloved is mine.
“Love is strong as death.”
Love that is strong as death speaks of a love that endures even in disappointment and apparent lack. Death brings an end to all human striving- yet love continues to believe, to hope, and to wait for the resurrection of what appears to be lifeless.
“Jealousy is fierce as the grave”
Fierce jealousy will not share what belongs to it with any other. Godly jealousy insists on exclusive devotion while setting boundaries for our protection.
It is uncompromising but confronts every rival. God’s love will not share the throne of the heart. He is reclaiming exclusive affection for Himself alone.
“Its flashes are flashes of fire, the very flame of the LORD.”
The pure flame of the Lord will first burn away every dross and impurity in us; it will burn up what is useless and cannot remain, before igniting us with the same fire and empowering us to consume the fruitless works of darkness.
“Many waters cannot quench love, neither can floods drown it.”
Floods will come. Life’s many pressures, offences, and tragedies will attempt to overwhelm us. Yet love will outlast them all. What God has kindled with His fire will not be drowned by many waters. It may remain submerged for a season, but it will rise again when the floods recede.
If a man offered for love all the wealth of his house, he would be utterly despised.”
God is dismantling transactional relationships. Love cannot be bought with sacrifice, service or success. Heaven will only accept a surrendered heart.
Beloved: This is the hour that the Holy Spirit is calling for a sealed and surrendered people:
a people not marked by religious performance, but by a love that is as strong as death; a people who will refuse to indulge in any form of spiritual adultery,
a people who will be jealous for all that is holy and precious and life-giving; with a jealousy that is as fierce as the grave.
May we be just such a people our Bridegroom is seeking after.
Hineni (Here I am, Lord)