I need You, Lord. Every hour I need You. More like every moment. Though sometimes I walk around in this stone-cold stupor, oblivious and unaware.

But, right now I feel it, my desperate need. That God-ache that no other thing will satiate. Just You, Your love, Your Spirit filling all my soul-holes. All my sore and hollowed out empty places. I’m parched and You come to let me taste and see. That You, in all Your glory are good. You are good but You’re not tame. I should fear You, the way all the wild life fears a roaring lion. You are strong and You are fierce. But, still You’re good. And I need You. I have always needed You. Oh God, please come. Could You come right now?

Your voice, it shakes the wilderness. Like loud claps of thunder and bolts of lightening, it rips open the sky. Your exclamations escalate! You echo through the cosmos, reverberate through the wild blue yonder above. So that everyone can hear You. So that everyone can know that You’re not too far away. And yet at times You whisper. Like the little playful breezes that whirl autumn’s last leaves or skirt around the summer swallows. You can be boisterous and You can be tender. Would You speak to me with Your tender voice now? I’m listening, Lord.

 

And Lord, would You abide with me today? In this house? With my kids? When I’m over the laundry and at the sink? In the floor with the mess, all the creative mess and the toys? I need You here. Close enough to feel. Tender, but loud enough to hear. I need Your Presence with me now. Or else all of life is vain.

 

I praise You, God. I have to walk this daily grind by faith, but I don’t traipse along alone.  I believe You’re here. I can feel You in my bones.

 

Is that You again? At every turn?

I hear Your voice and I come.