This question stumbled out of my mouth amid a torrent of tears, to which my three-and-a-half year old had no response.
There I was, cross-legged in the middle of the kitchen floor with tears spilling on my lap, spatula still in hand. It was approaching dinner time when the hubby would arrive home and we would all sit to a happy dinner together, at least that was the plan. Only I couldn’t pull myself out of my brokenness.
"Why don't you appreciate me? Don't you love me?"
God doesn’t answer my prayers. Let me explain...
I have dear friends who have, what seems to be, every prayer answered in miraculous fashion and I burn with jealousy. I have other dear friends who, it would seem, have never had their deepest-heart’s desires filled despite fervent and faithful prayers and I burn in familiar pain.
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