Sometimes God, I wish your presence wasn't a gift. Or, maybe I should say "wasn't like a gift." Gifts come every now and then. Gifts show up once in a while. Gifts excite for a moment and then the excitement fades. Why is your presence so much like a gift sometimes God? I wonder: Is it just me? Then I ask, "Does my presence seem the same way to You?" I heard your voice some time ago; I dwelt in your midst; I encountered your presence. But it's not always like that. It's not always that thick. I heard you say: "This is what it's like!" I knew Lord, that you were speaking of your presence. I welled up with tears. Lord, what is it you are after? God, what is it that you desire? What do you want? What? I want presence.