Wish You Were Here
I wish You were here in person. I could tell You all of the things I don’t want to share with anyone else. I could tell You the things I don’t want anyone else to hear. I could tell you the things that only You would understand. I could tell You how I feel because You already know. You’ve been there, You’ve felt that. With You, I would be free to share my true thoughts and my real feelings without interruption because You are the greatest listener there has ever been. You would listen. You would let me say my peace, and then You would be able to tell me everything we need to do to fix this turmoil. You would softly, gently and without condemnation explain to me how You have already fixed it. I could just sit for eternity in Your arms never fearing the inevitable moment when the quiet turned awkward- I don’t think it ever could. You would hold me tight like a Father would and let Your presence be enough. Because it is. I could cry- soft or loud. I could sob and weep and gasp for air and whine until my the skin of my throat peeled like old wallpaper. I could flail and groan and yell my lamentations and wail and howl until I felt emptied of my sorrow. But I would be misunderstanding the situation to believe that the sobbing and weeping and gasping and whining were what gave my spirit peace. It was always Your Spirit. It was always Your presence. There is no costume or pretense to Your presence. You broke that veil long, long ago. It is raw and real and relieving. I stopped making real time to sit in Your presence and be what I am. Be what I need to be. To be Your daughter first. I’m exhausting myself trying to figure my life out apart from Your presence. I ask “Why, oh why are you far away?” when I haven’t been coming close. I do wish You were here in person. But until You come take me home, Jesus, let Your presence be enough.