Where is God?

Last night, in the midst of an argument, I went to bed. Tired of fighting, of saying the same things over and over, I simply stopped talking and left the room. Not too long afterward, Mo came in. We lay in the dark, not speaking for a while. Finally I heard him, "I'm so sorry." he said, over and over. "I'm sorry. I don't want to lose you. There's a good man inside of me, somewhere, I promise."

I've heard it, too many times before. I said nothing, hoping he would think I had fallen asleep. He got up, left the room, came back. Got up again. After repeating this several times, he came back in, but didn't get into bed.

Curiosity getting the best of me, I broke the silence. "What in the hell are you DOING?" I asked.

Peeling off my sleep mask, I saw his form in the darkness, crouched down on the side of the bed. "I'm praying," came the mumbled response. "I'll do anything, anything not to lose you."

I don't remember what I actually said -- something about it being 4 in the morning and could we just go to sleep, please? -- but I remember thinking, quite angrily, something along the lines of "Let me know how that works out for you."

I've been praying for seven years, begging God to listen, to help, to fix things that were broken. To heal my spirit, to grant me peace.

My prayers have varied the gamut from "help us to have a child" to "heal my husband" to "heal my marriage." If seven years of consistent prayer have led to this, then what hope does Mo have? What hope do either of us have?

If God's listening, he's not in the mood to grant requests. That's all I'm saying.