Mr. Obama, you are the president who got up and sang “Amazing Grace” after the Charleston, S.C., killings. You are the president who shed tears in public after Sandy Hook. Now we are a country troubled by the looming possibility of a constitutional crisis, and hate groups are claiming the president as theirs. We need your voice. There is not a saner, more trustworthy opinion that many of us would rather hear.

I recognize and respect your deliberate approach to navigating these fraught times, but this relentless subtlety has become wearisome. Mr. Obama, now is not the time to follow the keep-quiet rules while the new administration plays moral equivocator to a much aghast nation.

It’s time for you to come back.

I love that, after you posted on Twitter about the violence in Charlottesville, Va., you set a record for the most-liked tweet. But my joy at the news of your weighing in was complicated by your using a quotation, even one from Nelson Mandela. I looked to you for your good words. I’ll keep waiting because I know they will be worth it. But where are they?

In April, you spoke to students at the University of Chicago and identified your post-presidential calling to help “prepare the next generation of leadership to take up the baton” as “the single most important thing I can do.” I entirely agree. But your distance remains a weight on my mind.

At first, and despite the seismic tonal shifts of early 2017, it was a joy to watch you on a deserved, extended holiday. Gelato. Kitesurfing. Taking pictures of natural-haired Michelle on a yacht. You were being carefree, and it was wonderful. Then came a deeper quiet. You came back, wore your collar open, signed a book deal. I was still happy for you, but there was an ache to it.