No one will ever convince me Solomon wrote the “Song” attributed to him in the Old Testament.
No one with hundreds of wives and a gymnasiumful of ready-made girlfriends can focus on one woman the way the writer of that poetic rhapsody did. (If you love the Song of Solomon, good. I’m only saying there is no way it’s from the pen and heart of this Israeli king.)
True love is not about being enamored by the sheen in her hair or the gleam in her brown eyes. It’s far deeper than that.
I’ve been in revival this week in Elberta, Alabama, a sweet little community near the coastal resort town of Gulf Shores. One morning, host pastor Mike Keech and I met for breakfast at a quaint breakfast cafe called Grits ‘n Gravy. I’d brought along my sketch pad, so during the hour we were there, I drew all the diners, a dozen or more, as well as Patrick the owner and Megan the counter lady. They were all memorable, but none more than an older couple sitting in a booth.