By R.C. Chapman
“I sat down under His Shadow with great delight and His fruit was sweet to my taste.” Song of Solomon 2:3
Mercies are inscribed on the lowly heart! The sweet memories of former joys, the joys of communion with Jesus, and profitable also, if these remembrances cause thankfulness and praise; if it confirms faith and hope; revitalizes desire, and makes sin more hateful.
Lord Jesus, when all strength is gone, and when through many temptations, hands hang down, knees been made feeble, it is Your desire in the fierce heat of battle to make me sit down beneath Your shadow!
By faith I rest in You; at the voice of Your rebuke my enemies take flight. Then there is holy stillness within me. I set myself to meditate on You, my Lord and Savior, on You, my own Emanuel! I see Your glory, and think deeply about Your eternal Godhead. As I look abroad, all things speak of Your power, and talk of Your praise; I see, and hear You, and trace Your footsteps everywhere.
I know You are the Word that endures forever, that was with God and was God, the Son who came from the heart of the Father. For me You came forth, and You have persuaded me of Your everlasting love; of the counsel of peace and the covenant that stands fast with You forever and forever.
I see You, You, the Lamb of God, my Great High Priest, who is highly exalted. You have an unchangeable priesthood, given by the oath and promise of God the Father, that I might have an anchor of the soul that is both sure and steadfast, which enters within the veil. I have You, my Rock to build on; to build so securely that storms and gales will only prove the building. I drink of Your love with great desire, which grows with each new gale, and aims to comprehend the greatest amount of Your glory and Your grace.
How beautiful is Your fruit; how sweet and refreshing; and Your shadow, how pleasant, the shadow of the Tree of Life. Ah, my Lord, for what reason do I grieve the comforter, by whom You satiate my soul? Sad to say! In me (that is, in my flesh) there lives no good thing. By grace, by grace, I am saved. But, Oh You, the Beloved of my soul, hold me up, and teach me to sit at Your feet, and in the midst of the richest refreshing of Your smile to grow in poverty of spirit and self-reproach!
Let me live and stay at the blood of sprinkling, to which I have come; and while being nothing myself in my own eyes, in You I will boast and magnify my Lord and God and Savior evermore.
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