The Call to Come Higher: Encountering Jesus in the Song of Solomon (Part 2)

By the end of chapter one in the Song of Solomon, we see the maiden beginning to respond to the love of the Bridegroom. She’s overcome, changed, and growing in confidence. But her journey is far from over.

Chapter two introduces a major turning point. The Lord moves from nurturing her in intimacy to calling her out of the comfort zone, into partnership with Him in His purposes. If we stopped at “Draw me away” and “His banner over me is love,” we’d miss the full trajectory God has for us of spiritual maturity.

God doesn’t just want to comfort you in His love—He wants to call you forth in partnership. And chapter two is His invitation to come higher into a life of vision, action, and holy confrontation with the things that keep us small.

The Vision of Your Life

The Song of Solomon 2:4 says, “His banner over me is love.” That phrase, as beautiful as it sounds, carries profound implications. In the ancient world, a banner represented purpose, identity, and mission. So when she says, “His banner over me is love,” she’s not just expressing emotion, she’s discerning divine intent.

Everything the Lord leads us into is defined by that banner. Even His discipline, even the stretching seasons, are by and for love. The end goal of every trial is that we would be perfected in love.

She begins to understand this, and her heart cries out, “Sustain me, refresh me, for I am lovesick.” It’s one thing to know God loves you, it’s another to feel it so deeply that nothing else will satisfy.

This is what happens when your spiritual vision is clear. The love of God becomes the ultimate goal. Not success. Not ministry. Not survival. Just Him. Closeness. Intimacy.

Don't Awaken Love Before It's Time

Right before He calls her higher, the maiden says something pivotal in verse 7: “Do not awaken love until it pleases.”

This speaks to the core of our spiritual formation. She’s just beginning to come alive in love. Her identity is shifting. She’s receiving revelation. She’s fragile, but sincere. And the Lord, in His kindness, says, Let her remain here a while. Don’t rush the process.

In today’s church culture, we often throw people into ministry responsibility too soon. They’ve barely started their healing journey, and we’re asking them to lead worship teams or start Bible studies. The Lord’s approach is different. He says: Let them stay in the place of encounter until love is truly awakened.

A Shift in the Story: The Warrior King Appears

Then comes a dramatic shift.

“The voice of my beloved! Behold, he comes leaping upon the mountains, skipping upon the hills.” —Song of Solomon 2:8

When He shows up this time He looks completely different. He isn’t simply the tender bridegroom she’s known. He comes as the Sovereign King, leaping on mountains, calling her into partnership in spiritual battle. The mountains symbolize spiritual warfare, demonic strongholds, and the intimidating obstacles of life. But the King comes skipping on them—effortlessly overcoming, unfazed and powerful.

This is the face of Jesus many don’t expect. He is not just the one who comforts you under the shade tree, He’s also the Warrior King who calls you into partnership and conquest.

When He shows up this way it can be disorienting. She recognizes His voice, but not His appearance. She says, “He stands behind our wall, looking through the windows, gazing through the lattice.” (2:9)

This verse marked me deeply. It’s the picture of Jesus looking into our life from the other side of our walls—the places where we hide, stay comfortable, or refuse to grow. And yet He doesn’t force His way in. He gazes. He calls. He waits.

Come Away With Me

Then comes the invitation:

“Rise up, my love, my fair one, and come away.” —Song of Solomon 2:10

This is the Bridegroom’s call to come higher. The winter is over. The rain has passed. Fruit is appearing. It’s time to move from the hidden place of encounter into the risky place of obedience. He calls her out from behind the wall, not just physically, but spiritually. Come with Me into places you’ve never gone before.

He says, “Let me see your face, let me hear your voice, for your voice is sweet and your face is lovely.” (2:14)

Think about that: the King of glory is asking to see you. To hear you. Not because He lacks power or knowledge, but because love desires expression. God doesn’t want robots or spectators. He wants partnership.

The Lattice of Our Hearts

What walls do you hide behind? What fears keep you from saying yes to God’s call?

He sees through all of it. He looks through the windows and the lattice. The lattice represents the framework of our hearts—our boundaries, our fears, our limitations. He looks through them all and says, “I want you.”

This gaze of the Bridegroom is not passive. It’s relentless. He doesn’t glance—He gazes. He doesn’t forget—He remembers every “yes” you’ve ever whispered. And He calls your name again and again until you respond.

Confronting the Little Foxes

In verse 15, the maiden responds with a key insight: “Catch us the foxes, the little foxes that spoil the vines.”

As the call to maturity increases, so does the need for inner cleansing. These “little foxes” represent the subtle compromises, distractions, and hidden sins that spoil intimacy and fruitfulness. Before she can leap with Him on mountains, she thinks all the small things must be dealt with. The foxes aren’t a distraction from intimacy—they’re part of the process. The Lord brings them to light so the vineyard of your heart can flourish.

And then the turning point comes where she decides to stay back and tells HIm to depart and be like a gazelle, “on the mountains of bether” Bether means separation. She is telling him that the gray areas and little foxes of her life are too much of an obstacle and that He must go forth without her. She will find out soon that the secret place she has enjoyed is with Him wherever He is, instead of in her comfort zone.

Where Are You in the Story?

This moment in the Song of Solomon teaches us a crucial truth: Jesus wants to partner with us—not just in private devotion, but in public obedience, in spiritual warfare, and in mission.

He wants us to move beyond the safety of spiritual infancy into the risk of spiritual maturity. He gazes through the lattice, calls us by name, and says: “Come with Me.”

Some of us are still in that “draw me away” moment—and that’s beautiful. Stay there until love is awakened. But others of us are hearing His voice at the window, and He’s calling us higher.

What is He saying to you? Where is He calling you? Are you willing to go where He leads—even if He shows up in a way you didn’t expect?