I prayed until my words felt empty.
I wasn't asking for miracles. I didn't need the sky to open or angels to sing. I just wanted a sign — something small, something gentle — to tell me God was still listening.
Everyone says He answers prayers.
They say it with confidence, with smiles and testimonies that sound so sure. But no one really talks about what it feels like when He doesn't. When you pray the same prayer again and again, and nothing changes.
That night, I knelt beside my bed the way I had been taught since I was a child. My knees pressed into the cold floor. My hands were folded, but my heart felt unfolded — exposed, tired, heavy.
I told Him everything.
I told Him I was scared of the future.
I told Him I felt behind in life, like everyone else was moving forward while I stayed stuck in the same place.
I told Him about the loneliness I never admitted out loud, the kind that sits with you even in a room full of people.
My voice shook as I spoke. I tried to sound faithful. I tried not to sound angry. I tried not to cry, because somehow I believed tears meant weakness.
When I finally said amen, I stayed still.
I waited.
I waited for peace to rush in the way people describe it. I waited for a sense of comfort, for warmth in my chest, for anything that would tell me my prayer had reached heaven.
But the room remained quiet.
No peace.
No reassurance.
No voice.
Just silence so loud it made my chest ache.
I opened my eyes and stared at the wall in front of me. The same wall. The same dim light. The same problems waiting for me tomorrow. Nothing had changed.
A dangerous thought crossed my mind then — one I tried to push away immediately.
What if God hears others… but not me?
I stood up slowly, my knees sore, my heart heavier than before. I felt foolish for expecting something more. For hoping.
As I lay back on my bed, staring at the ceiling, I whispered one last sentence — not really a prayer, just a question.
"God… are You still there?"
The silence answered me.
And for the first time in my life, doubt didn't feel like rebellion.
It felt like honesty.