For days now we have been dwelling on our Savior's passion, and we will linger there a while longer. But as we begin a new month, let us burn with the same desire for our Lord that glowed in the heart of his bride.

Look how she leaps straight to him! No introduction. No polite preface. She doesn't even say his name. Why should she? He is the only "him" in all the world to her. She plunges straight into the heart of her theme at once.

How bold her love is! It was much condescension for Jesus to let the weeping penitent anoint his feet with spikenard. It was rich love that allowed gentle Mary to sit at his feet and learn. But here—here love, strong, fervent love, aspires to higher tokens of regard and closer signs of fellowship.

Esther trembled before Ahasuerus. But the bride, in the joyful liberty of perfect love, knows no fear. And if we have received the same free spirit, we also may ask the like.

By these kisses we suppose to be intended those varied manifestations of affection by which the believer is made to enjoy the love of Jesus. The kiss of reconciliation we enjoyed at our conversion—sweet as honey dropping from the comb. The kiss of acceptance still warm on our brow, for we know he has accepted our persons and our works through rich grace. But the kiss we pant after, the one we long to be repeated day after day, is the kiss of daily, present communion. Until it is changed into the kiss of reception, which removes the soul from earth, and the kiss of consummation, which fills it with the joy of heaven.

Faith is our walk, but fellowship sensibly felt is our rest. Faith is the road, but communion with Jesus is the well from which the pilgrim drinks.

O Lover of our souls, be not strange to us! Let the lips of your blessing meet the lips of our asking. Let the lips of your fullness touch the lips of our need, and straightway the kiss will be effected.