O Abba, my Father,
I am undone without You.
“As the deer pants [longingly] for the water brooks,
So my soul pants [longingly] for You, O God.”
—Psalm 42:1 (AMP)
From the depths of my soul, I cry—not with rehearsed words, but with groanings too deep for speech (Romans 8:26).
I thirst, not for comfort, not for resolution, but for You—for Your Presence, for Your nearness, for the fire of Your Spirit.
I am not satisfied with bread alone, for man lives by every word that proceeds from Your mouth (Matthew 4:4).
Speak, Father—speak, and I will live again.
Where are You in the stillness?
Where is the whisper that once called me by name?
“My heart says of You, ‘Seek His face!’
Your face, Lord, I will seek.” —Psalm 27:8 (NIV)
But the heavens seem silent, and I am a child reaching with empty hands.
Yet still I reach.
Like Moses in the wilderness, I say, “If Your presence does not go with us, do not lead us up from here” (Exodus 33:15, NASB).
Take the blessing if You must—but do not take Yourself.
I am not asking for rescue alone—I am asking for communion.
Not just Your hand—I need Your face.
“Whom have I in heaven but You?
And besides You, I desire nothing on earth.”
—Psalm 73:25 (NASB)
I remember the days when Your voice thundered from the mountain,
when Your glory filled the temple,
when the secret place burned with holy light.
Do it again, Lord.
Let me hide in the cleft of the rock while You pass by (Exodus 33:22).
Let me cling to the hem of Your garment and not let go.
I will not be silent.
I will be the persistent widow. I will pound the gates. I will knock until my knuckles bleed.
For You said, “Ask, and it will be given to you; seek, and you will find; knock, and it will be opened to you.”
—Matthew 7:7 (NASB)
Father, rend the heavens and come down (Isaiah 64:1).
Look upon Your child with mercy. Let me feel the nearness of El Shaddai again.
Let me hear You in the whisper, like Elijah on the mountain (1 Kings 19:12).
Let me walk with You in the cool of the day once more.
I cry with David, “Do not cast me away from Your presence,
And do not take Your Holy Spirit from me.” —Psalm 51:11 (NASB)
This is not a song,
This is not a sermon,
This is a desperate cry to the Father.
Come.
Come swiftly.
Come and breathe life into this dust.
Only You can satisfy. Only You can fill this cavern within.
There is no other.
