My prayer, fervent to the point of chest-wrenching, brought me to my knees. I bent double in the half-dark until my forehead pressed into the carpet. Words formed on my lips, mouthed silently in the stillness of an old house settling.
For all my efforts I heard no divine whispers in my ears. They must be there, I knew—I believed—I had to believe. I had to believe God was speaking to me. He loved me, he loved me. Maybe his truth was being muffled by the rushing of all these other voices and the wind that rustled through pages of reading. But it was there.
God. God, have mercy on this, your sinful world. Please, please God. Please don’t punish us for being human.