A little poem that niggles at the edge of that ancient Christian prayer “Come, Holy Spirit” and  contemporary demand for “More” and asks if the way we often use them betrays an orphan / toddler Spirit in us, more ready to believe in an absent/poor father than an always present, always loving God. 

When you plead for me to ‘come’

I am already here

I’m waiting for your notice

as I take away your fear


I’m not an absent parent

Needing summoning right here

I am a loving father

Who loves when you draw near


Be present in my presence –

Love’s depth and breadth and height –

When you notice me so near

You’ll see it’s your birth-right.


So thank me for my presence

I love to hear you clear

Then pause and wait for my response

I whisper back, “I’m here”


“But I want more” (the toddler cry)

– It’s not a bad request

But if you lay your head on me

You’ll find that in your rest


The heights and depth, the breadth and width

Of intimacy with me

Don’t come by shouting More More please

but trusting gratefully


Why then, you ask, do I allow

“come” / “more” to summon me?

Why do I come when you call

And do so faithfully?


I am training you for now my son

To seek your father’s voice

So when you’re older, wise still

You’ll go my way by choice


I’m always more willing to be with you

Than you can ever know

If you’re present in my presence

You’ll find I never go…


‘Paraclete’:  The one who comes when we call… A greek word used by Jesus for the Holy Spirit… often translated: comforter/ advocate/ counsellor.