[24] Pleasant words are as an honeycomb, sweet to the soul, and
health to the bones.
“Unless the Spirit has led us to acquaint ourselves with
what the Word of God says about our speech, we can hardly imagine the important
place it has in the lives of both the saved and the unsaved,” writes Bible
expositor Cora MacIlravey (circa 1916).
“If we could hear all our words that are spoken during
even one day, and as they echo back upon us, if we would remember that ‘out of
the fullness of the heart the mouth speaketh,’ we should know, as we have never
known, what is in our hearts.
“…There is no place in our lives where the proof of
God’s inward working is so wonderfully illustrated as in the relation between
the heart and the speech. As the Holy Spirit works in our hearts, staying our
thoughts and desires upon God, our words become as the over-filled cells in the
honeycomb. They are ladened with the rich, unadulterated milk of the Word.
“…In the nineteenth Psalm we are told that the Word of
God is ‘sweeter also than honey and the honeycomb.’ The droppings
of the honeycomb is the purest honey; and there is a thought also that the comb is
filled to overflowing so that drops of pure honey hang from it; not continually
dropping, but hanging there ready to drop at the proper time. Not only is the pure
sweetness of honey under our tongue, but milk is found there, too.
“…The honey is sweet, nourishing and soothing; the
milk represents nourishment and edification. It is as we discern and feed upon
the sincere milk of the Word, that the Word is stored away in our hearts and is
found under our tongues. The bride’s words are not like the restless waves of
shallow water, which roar and foam over the stones and rocks that lie so near
the surface, that there is hardly depth to wet one’s feet. Under the bride’s
tongue are words of comfort and sweetness, words of grace seasoned with salt,
words that are good for edifying as the need may be, words that give grace to
them that hear.”
The hymn “I love Thee, Jesus”
includes the lyrics:
Thy love,
Lord Jesus,
Is sweeter than wine, And Thy fragrance of ointments My heart doth entwine, And Thy fragrance of ointments My heart doth entwine. A fount in gardens, A well of living waters, Which streams and flows from Lebanon’s mountains. |
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O come
Beloved,
On my garden blow, That the odor of spices May break forth and flow, That the odor of spices May break forth and flow. My spouse, My sister, I’m come into My garden To feast upon wine, milk and honey. |
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