I think you’re being a tad misleading here with your analogy. In questioning the nature of your relationship with God, there is only one person we can ask–you. (I suppose, if you want, we can ask God. But if He doesn’t respond, then that’s a strike against you trying to prove your case). In questioning the nature of your relationship with your wife, there are at least two people we can ask–both you and your wife. I say “at least” because we can further gather evidence by asking people who have seen the two of you together: friends, coworkers, neighbors, what have you.
In the former case, all we have to go on is your word. You can shout “I love God and He loves me” until your tongue falls out, but that doesn’t constitute “proof.” In the latter case, we can observe how you treat your wife and how she treats you. We can ask each of you for your opinion on the matter. We can ask numerous other third parties for their opinion, and we can observe you independently and come to our own conclusions. If, to quote the Eight Ball, all signs point to “Yes,” then I’d feel safe in saying that you do indeed love your wife. Is it proof? Just like in the first case, not really, no. But if I were a gambling man (which I am), I’d wager on the existence of the more readily verifiable husband-wife love than I would on the existence of the completely subjective and self-contained person-diety love.
I’d like to extend this point (and address the Topic Question in doing so) by telling a story. When I was in undergrad, I had two friends, Dan and Lucy, who were both a year behind me. I met them about a month after they met each other their freshman year. They were totally normal, moderate, non-Fundie Christians. About the only oddity in their relationship was that they married at a pretty young age–neither one of them was legally able to drink at their wedding. Okay, so there’s another strange fact about their relationship: Dan would occasionally hit Lucy.
About three months after the wedding, I noticed Lucy had a black eye, so I asked her about it. “I took a softball to the face during practice.” Okay, I guess. When I noticed some vicious bruises on her legs, the story was that some punk kid apparently ran a grocery cart into her at the supermarket. Now this did not jive, so I talked to Dan. Hearing the same far-fetched story from him did not make it sit any better with me. Out of nowhere came the truth.
“Mike, she got into a fender-bender because she was putting her lipstick on while driving. The damages weren’t that big of a deal, but I’ve told her a MILLION times not to do it! I had to get the point across somehow!” He was actually justifying causing his wife physical harm! :mad: I think I told him something to the effect that if he EVER touched her again, I would rip out his eyes and tape them to my hands, so he could watch me beat the living shit out of him. (I have, shall we say, historical reasons for being vehemently opposed to abuse against women. [Homer] Stupid traumatic childhood! [/Homer]). Apparently, something got through, because Dan broke down and wept for at least ten minutes straight. I stood there, stoically, offering not one platitude nor one ounce of sympathy. He nevertheless bawled–no whining, no more excuses, just tears and tears. Finally, the best he could offer up was, “I love her, Mike, I really do.” “Bullshit,” I eloquently countered. “If you really loved her, then you’d never even dream of causing her physical pain.”
My question–to Poly or to anyone else–is: Why should I hold God to a lower standard than I held Dan to? You do NOT purposely cause pain to someone you love. That is completely antithetical to the notion of loving someone. And yet, we let God off the hook. Our Loving Father gave this person pancreatic cancer. That person was born severely mentally retarded, by the grace of the All-Loving God. A third person has had not one, not two, but THREE miscarriages–made all the more cruel because she also has a son, and knows that it’s physically possible for her to bear children.
These are not “the wages of sin are death” cases. I also contend that these are not not NOT cases of love. Why do we let God get away with it? Every fiber of my being despises my wifebeater friend, and yet God, the Ultimate Humanbeater, deserves my unconditional love? And gratitude? 
Quix
[sub]Yes, I know, “The Lord works in mysterious ways” and whatnot. But you’ll pardon me for not accepting that as proof that God exists[/sub]

I was as sincere, as pitiful, as selfless, and as needful as any human being in history in my quest for Jesus’ love. And the answer I got was silence. God told me, “Nope, I don’t want you.” So really, I have no reason to trust him at all. (But, in a way, I’m relieved–my life is so much better now that I’m an agnostic! I’m happier, much more fulfilled, much more tolerant, and basically full of more love NOW than I ever was when I was nominally a Christian.)