A journey through silence, doubt, & quiet certainty I couldn’t escape.

I Don’t Know Why I Believe In God

I don’t know why I believe in God. And for a long time, that bothered me. Because the more I searched for answers, the quieter everything became. I was raised in a Christian home, so in many ways, the choice was made for me. It almost feels like I was a believer before I was even born. Eventually, I made that decision for myself, when I was old enough to understand what this “new life” really meant.

Looking back now, I realize how easy it was to say yes.

I was a teenager, leaning heavily on the beliefs of others. What I was told about God, who He is and what He offers sounded beautiful, even irresistible. I didn’t want to miss the life He had for me. So I gave myself to Him. But as I continued in my faith, life began to pull me in different directions.

The plans and expectations I placed before God weren’t unfolding the way I had hoped. Scripture says, “Ask, and it shall be given,” yet I kept asking and it felt like no one was answering. I began to wonder: Is this the same God people speak so highly of? Why does He feel so distant from me?

I sat in church, listening to testimonies, clapping for others but never finding myself among them. It felt like I had been singled out, as though God was ignoring my prayers and my need for direction.

Still, I kept going. I was encouraged by the confidence I saw in other believers. I looked up to them, hoping their certainty would somehow make sense of my own journey. But there comes a point when looking at others is no longer enough. My journey eventually brought me to a place where it was just me and God.

I stopped moving not because I wanted to, but because I had nothing left to hold on to. I could no longer use other people’s experiences to anchor my faith. So I had to decide: would I give up, or would I wait on God?

In truth, I did neither.

I simply lived. I did what needed to be done, but I placed God outside of it all. I focused on my career and my social life, occasionally thinking about Him, but never fully returning. Maybe, deep down, I was still waiting… hoping for a whisper, something to reassure me that He was still there.

But in the quiet moments, there was nothing. No answers. No clarity. Just silence. If it was a test, I failed it completely.

Even then, I had friends and leaders encouraging me to keep going, to trust even when nothing seemed to be happening. But my struggle wasn’t just about unanswered prayers.

The “new life” I was promised didn’t feel new at all.

Each day felt ordinary, routine, predictable, almost empty. I wanted more. I wanted depth, transformation, even perfection. If Jesus lived such a powerful life, why did mine feel so…unchanged?

And it didn’t stop there.

I saw believers struggling with sin, with poverty, with sickness, with uncertainty. If this life we’ve been called to is so special, why do these things still exist? These are not new questions. Many have asked them before me. And I asked them too.

Then, slowly, something shifted.

I realized that the answers I was searching for wouldn’t simply fall into my hands. I had to walk with God and experience them for myself. Even when my life felt empty as a believer, walking away from God only made it worse. My thoughts, my decisions, everything kept leading me back to Him. There was no escaping it.

Something in me was already rooted in Him.

I could make my own plans, yet still find myself wondering what God thought about them. I could doubt, but still feel a quiet hope whenever He came to mind.

I realized something I couldn’t ignore: I was made for this.

I was chosen to walk this road, even through silence. To live in the waiting, to remain expectant, even without answers.

This is what I was born for.

I cannot live a life that does not include God. I may question, doubt, or come close to walking away, but I know this much: I am one with Him, and He is one with me. He chose me, and I have chosen Him.

So if you ask me why I believe, my answer is this: It is in how I was made.

My belief is not shaped only by my experiences. It feels deeper than that, like something placed within me before I even understood it.

And for as long as I live, I will believe.

© 2026 Sabina Kumi. Want more content like this? Explore more articles in the Why We Believe  series.