I Don’t Want Just His Presence

Many years ago, when I was still in elementary school, our teacher walked into the classroom looking tense. In an almost military tone, she reminded us to come the next day in our best uniforms, neat and pressed, because the President of the Republic was coming to visit.

It would be my first time seeing Costa Rica’s highest political figure in person, and the whole school buzzed with excitement.

The next day, around noon, we finally watched him walk into the assembly hall to a wave of applause. I cannot remember exactly where I was sitting, but I remember the feeling. We were in the presence of someone important. Even in my childhood innocence, I understood that his office carried weight.

Being in the presence of someone great can be thrilling. But when it comes to the Lord Jesus, His presence alone is not what I am after.

I do not want to be just one more face in a Sunday crowd, watching from a distance as He arrives, adored but far away. It is not enough to glimpse Him escorted by angels and hope He somehow hears me over the noise.

I want to sit at His table when the banquet is served. I want to be right beside Him when He begins telling astonishing stories from eternity. I want to hear His voice directly. I want to ask Him about my dreams, my ideas, and even the wild thoughts I cannot explain to anyone else.

And when the gathering is over, I want us to walk out the same door, heading to the same home. Our home.

I want to sit and talk freely, with no liturgy to follow and no fine clothes to wear. I want to kick off my shoes and pull on the most comfortable, worn-out clothes I own, holes and all. None of that matters, because we are home. There is nothing to perform. Time stops mattering. It is just Him and me.

In His presence there is fullness of joy, and at His right hand there are pleasures greater still. There are treasures hidden in closeness with Him, in the sweet anticipation of His voice sharing secrets. There is safety in the Father’s embrace, greatness and love in Christ’s open arms, and comfort, wisdom, and power in the Holy Spirit.

That is where I want to be: close enough to whisper “Abba” without fear.