If you asked me why I believe in God, I probably wouldn’t start with arguments or long explanations. I’d just tell you the simple truth. There are so many of my life experiences that have proven to me that God is real and is concerned about every single thing that concerns me. There were seasons in my life when believing would have been the easiest thing to give up. Moments when prayers just seemed like a burden, words said to heaven seemed not to be exceeding the ceiling of my house. Times when life didn’t look anything like what I had hoped or prayed for. And sometimes seasons like that shook my faith more than I admitted, but somehow, even in those moments, I kept noticing something strange; I was still standing. You know how we can make plans and have expectations for how we want our lives to go… I remember a time when I was trying to get admitted into school. I had my life all “planned” out. I wanted to be done with everything regarding my academics by age 24, but things weren’t falling in line the way I expected. I stayed home for years due to financial constraints and I was hurting so badly. I always thought that my journey was so sluggish, it looked like all my friends had gone ahead of me, even pupils I taught had graduated while I wasn’t in school yet. By the time God told me the school to apply for, it was a school I disliked so much, and that began another phase of frustration for some months because I felt God was being unfair to me and he didn’t like to give me my heart's desires, but after some time, God helped me, and I overcame. I got to a certain time where the Lord began to bring my attention to many things that I wouldn’t have achieved if I had gone to school at the time I planned. He made me understand this: the fact that people are in front of me does mean they’re ahead of me…. It was at this point that a lot of Scriptures began flooding my mind, like: Jeremiah 29:11 For I know the thoughts that I think toward you, saith the Lord, thoughts of peace, and not of evil, to give you an expected end. Romans 8:28 And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are called according to his purpose. Were there days when I was tired enough to give up? Of course!! Emotionally, mentally, sometimes even spiritually. Were there times when I didn’t feel strong or certain about anything in life or my future? Absolute!!! But God was always there to help and comfort me, even when no one else was there. The thing about God is that He doesn’t always show up in loud, dramatic ways. Sometimes His presence is quiet. He comes as peace, showing up when anxiety is trying to take over, and His hope keeps returning after disappointment tries to convince you that nothing good is ahead. When some life situations hit me, I begin to consciously remind myself and recognize them as evidence of a God who is present, even when life feels uncertain. And so, if you’re struggling to believe, I need you to understand that God is not afraid of your questions; He isn’t actually waiting for you to have faith before He cares about you. Sometimes faith doesn’t always appear as loud confidence, and this is where we miss it, many times it comes with choosing to hope again when life has given you various reasons not to, choosing to pray and trust God again, and also living in the consciousness that your story isn’t finished yet. So if you asked me why I believe, my answer would be simple. I believe because through every season – the good ones and the hard ones, God has always shown up in unimaginable ways. I can go on and on with testimonies on how God has shown that He’s concerned about me, down to the tiniest details. When I say He shows up, I don’t mean that it’ll be in the ways we expect. Remember that His ways are not our ways at all, and His thoughts aren’t our thoughts. And it’s happenings like this that have given me reasons to keep believing and trusting God, against all odds. I trust Him when the way seems blurry because I’ve had encounters that have proven to me over and again that God cares and His presence is with me every step of the way, and so He is with you too. All you need is to be conscious of Him and believe that every single one of His words is truth and life. © 2026 Favour. Want more content like this? Explore more articles in the Why We Believe series.

All I can really think is — how could I not believe? God has brought me through some of the most troubling times in my life, and yet He’s also given me so many blessings. Even in those darkest moments, when I could have gone the wrong way, He sent people into my life that I never would have expected. Those people fought harder than the devil to keep me from going dark. That was God’s work. I’ve seen too much to ignore Him. From the stars in the sky to the detail of a single snowflake, everything points back to God. No one else could design life with that kind of care. I’ve also seen the power of prayer, real healing that can only be described as a miracle. That’s God’s work. No one else is capable of that. I believe in God because without Him, I would be lost. Who would I turn to when I’m in need? Who would guide my heart to do good even when there is nothing in my favor? I believe in God because without Him, I am nothing. I would be a nobody who came from nowhere. I would have no ancestry. So really, how would I even be alive if God never created mankind? Some of my thoughts are hard to put into words. The miracles of life, from mankind to creatures, mountains to oceans, rainforests to deserts, these didn’t just happen; they were created. From having my children and watching them grow, God's doing; their souls are rooted by God. No one else could bless me with them. They are here by His choice. I believe in God because I know no other way. I am not capable of thinking there is anything or anyone else that could guide my life as He has. From blessings to hardships, God was there, and He will always be there. I believe everything happens for a reason, good or bad, and we must trust His plan. No matter what. He hasn’t failed me. © 2026 Guest Joanna. Want more content like this? Explore more articles in the Why We Believe series.

Disclaimer: Reader, please be aware that this article contains a retelling of child abuse, a self-harm attempt, and the incredible story of how it was thwarted. I will be turning 68 this year. Which means I have lived almost 25,000 days on this crazy planet. Yet only three of those days had an impact so profound that everything changed. They were decades apart. All three contained what I like to call “moments of clarity.” You know the phenomenon when the world seems to just pause, and everything around you fades. Then something spiritual happens…be it good or bad. It’s like a “time out” when God has your full attention. Why do I believe in God? Because of three unique days. The first one came when I was only 8 years old. Day 1: When I Met The Skinny, Dirty, Dead Jesus. I hated kneeling on the old, worn kneelers in St. Thomas Moore Catholic Church. The pews were wooden, rock-hard, and well-worn. Because I attended their school as a child, my khaki uniform pants frequently found themselves looking for a spot that still had padding left. I was small. The back of the pew hit just below my chin. My folded hands assumed the prayer position and rested on the hymnal slots. The priest went through the familiar ritual of a Catholic mass: stand up in this part, sit down in this part, and say the right words at the right time in unison. That’s when I noticed Jesus for the first time. Behind the altar hung a giant crucifix. Hanging on the cross was a weak, frail, battered, and bloody Jesus. His head, adorned with a crown of thorns, hung forward because he had been killed. His ribs showed. He had no muscles. He was naked except for a loincloth. Blood poured out of his side. And nails were driven through his hands and feet. His eyes were closed, but his face looked sad. Defeated. The singing and chanting somehow faded that day. There was no smell of incense or flickering rows of lit candles. There was only his face. I stared at it for what seemed like an eternity. I couldn’t stop looking at that melancholy expression carved out of wood. I wished he would look up and see me…notice me. But he didn’t. He just hung there. That’s when it hit me: no wonder he couldn’t protect me and my sisters from child sex predators. He was too tiny, too frail, and too powerless to do anything about it. Every week, a black car with an older man would pick us up from a home daycare where my single working mother left us. He would take us to a location where they would do despicable things to other children and us. They would film it. They broke us in ways I thought could never be fixed. When the car showed up, my sister and I would try to hide in the bushes on the side of the house in terror. We asked God to save us. But he didn’t. I couldn’t understand why? I was only five. My sisters were seven and ten. We did everything they told us to do in Catholic school. We were being good. I occasionally asked my mom for a dollar so I could light a candle. Surely Jesus would help us if I lit a candle. But he didn’t. What was happening? I finally understood that day in the only way an eight-year-old could. Jesus didn’t let that happen because he hated or ignored us. He couldn’t stop it. He was weak, powerless, and dead. He was like me: a victim of powerful evil abusers who did whatever they wanted to whomever they wanted to abuse. Nuns told us Jesus was a glorious, powerful King of Kings. But he looked just like me: a person broken beyond repair. I didn’t hate Jesus. I wasn’t angry or bitter. He became real to me that day in a very dysfunctional and misunderstood way. We had something in common. I wouldn’t walk away from Christianity looking back in disgust. Instead, I would look forward, seeking the “real power” in this world. The dark lord behind the abuse. The hidden god who had the power to hurt children and kill Jesus. And years later, I would be indoctrinated into the church of Wicca. Day 2: It Was A Good Day To Die I was a genius. I had been quietly planning my own demise for quite a while. How could I make the pain stop and leave this world with my wife and kids well provided for? My insurance policy would leave them quite a nest egg. But there was a clear “suiclde clause” included. And I needed to beat the system to ensure a payout. Gunshot? Nope. Too traumatic and messy. Poison? Nah. Hanging? Too dramatic. And then I hatched the perfect plan. Note: I didn’t really want to die. I just wanted the pain to stop. I had an addiction that wouldn’t cease regardless of how many 12-step meetings I attended or “Adult Survivors of Childhood Sexual Abuse” sessions I joined. I kissed my wife and kids goodbye. And hopped a flight from Texas to Denver. I drove to Winter Park to spend the night. In the morning, I would search for the exact spot to “accidentally” drive off the side of a mountain and plunge to my death. It was the perfect plan: a dumb Texan going too fast on a winding road without a guardrail in Rocky Mountain National Park. All I had to do was leave skid marks, so it looked like I tried to stop. This is when the day started getting weird. I woke before the sun came up and had my last breakfast. As I was standing by my rental car preparing to leave, the sun broke over the top of a mountain to the east. A single beam of light hit me in the face. Nothing else around me was lit up, just my face. How did the sun “just happen” to rise between two mountain peaks and hit my face like a spotlight? I closed my eyes and basked in the warmth for a minute. I felt a peace like I never felt before. And that was my sign. Above 10,000 feet, the trees disappear. It is called a tundra. I found the ideal mountain with an S-shaped curve without a guard rail. I stood at the edge. The drop was at least a thousand feet. Perfect! I backed the car up to get a running start. I needed enough speed to make it look like I was out of control. I put the car in drive, about to mash the gas pedal. That’s when a voice so strong, so powerful, the kind that could speak the stars into existence, spoke to me. He said, “Stop!” I put the car into park, opened the door, and walked up to the top of that mountain. It wasn’t far. I sat there weeping and angry. I wanted to die. Why did Jesus stop me? Does he like to see me suffer for decades? I didn’t understand. I bought this jacket in the Ski Shop of the Viking Inn. I wanted to look good when they found my body. It is still referred to as the “Suiclde Jacket”. I keep it so I never forget what God did for me. I sat on the ground. There was a quietness I had never experienced before. It was a spooky, deafening quietness. And then Jesus showed up. It sounded like a gust of wind that I could hear far away heading my way from my right. I could see for miles. But I saw nothing. The rushing sound was out of place, like it didn’t belong. It was getting louder as it approached closer and closer. It seemed like it was going to go right past me, like hearing a motorcycle or car approach and head off in the other direction. But it suddenly stopped right in front of me. I didn’t see anything. It was dead quiet. But I knew someone was standing there. Was it God? Jesus? Some angel? I don’t know. I anticipated it was going to speak to me in a soft, comforting voice. Maybe say something like “I know what you’ve been through”, and then cuddle me with comfort. I was wrong. The voice was angry. Clear. And had an authority I can’t describe. It could have brought that mountain down flat or boiled the ocean with a single word. “Who are you to think you can take your own life?” He thundered. I was shocked. I’ll spare you the details of the life-changing dialogue. He finished with: “Now go down, go home, and live!” Then suddenly the sound of the wind departed to the left and traveled until it disappeared over the horizon. I stayed for a long-time crying. When I got down to the car, I forgot that I had left the engine running and the driver’s door open. A couple was at my car looking to solve the mystery of the missing driver. As I approached, the woman looked at me, really looked me in the face, the kind of look I longed for at eight. She asked, “Are you OK?” For the first time in my life, I answered truthfully, “Yes, I’ll be OK." I went home and hugged my family. I couldn’t stop kissing my young children. I was freed to love fully. Day 3: The Day I Insulted Jesus, And He Left. It’s been more than 10 years since I attended a weekend retreat for men called “Tres Dias”. It’s three days with no phones or outside contact, lots of prayer, praise, and Bible study. The weekend is broken down into sessions, each with a theme. Saturday morning was a session on “Study.” I sat there with my well-worn Bible as a seasoned Bible teacher, thinking I would “phone this one in” because I already had a consistent and disciplined study life. I knew things. If there was one session I DIDN’T need, it was this one. I also had a secret p0rn addiction that was well hidden from my external Christian life. Study? I’m good, bro. But that’s when Jesus showed up. I couldn’t see him. But I knew he was six feet from me, right beside me. He spoke by quoting a partial scripture: “Study to show yourself approved unto God.” It comes from 2 Tim 2:15. And then he said the first of two life-changing statements. “You are already approved." Wait, what? Again, “You are already approved." He addressed an emotional flaw that was buried deep in my heart. Why did I believe? Why did I study so much? Why did I do any of the things I do in Christianity? And then he nailed me. “Even if you never read another Bible verse again, you are approved. You are already approved.” My Christian life was nothing more than trying to win God’s approval. It was work-based and not a real, deep, intimate relationship. Maybe a massive amount of good works could motivate Him to keep the bad people away. My eight-year-old self had never completely healed. Then he said the most stunning thing I could ever imagine. “I am so proud of your service. But now I’m asking you to be my friend." My reply was instant. I’m not sure if the words came out of my mouth. Or if somehow, I spoke it spiritually. But I said, “Jesus, if you really knew me, you wouldn’t ask me to be your friend.” Then suddenly, he was gone. A million miles away. In an instant. I don’t know if you have ever been in the presence of God, and then suddenly not. But it’s a horrible feeling. It’s like a panic. A terror. It’s something I never want to experience ever again. I thought I chased Jesus away. I would have wept openly. But I was in a room full of men. So, I quietly died inside. That night, I went down to the shore of the lake. I was alone under the myriads of twinkling stars. And said out loud: “Jesus, I accept your offer to be friends”. He showed up for me just like he did for Peter when he cooked Peter breakfast on the shore of a lake. His friendship offer was never rescinded. He had been patiently waiting for me. My restoration was complete that day. Jesus and I Both Had a Three-Day Process. Jesus stayed in the tomb three days. And then everything for all creation was different. I, too, had three days for my emotional and spiritual resurrection to be complete. I learned in three days why he didn’t send in the death angel to kill pedophiles and rescue children. Instead, he stayed with us through the valley of death to make sure we lived. He hated every minute of what I went through. And held me by the hand. I learned in three days that every time I wanted a wooden Jesus to look at me, the real Jesus already was. He knew me. He knew my name. And he had seen my face. He watched me sleep and sang over me when I felt afraid. He watched me serve the kingdom of darkness for a while, jealously waiting for me to leave the pig pen and make the journey home. He ran to meet me. I learned in three days that he kept me alive when I wanted to check out. Yes, he had to tough-love me. But that’s what friends do. They say a friend will stab you in the front. Or maybe meet you on a Colorado mountain. He rode upon the wind. And commanded me to live. As if to say, “Let there be life." I learned in three days that there is an intimate relationship that is better than the master/servant dynamic. It’s friendship. It’s why John called himself “the disciple whom Jesus loved” while he lay his head on Jesus’ chest. I bet Jesus stroked his hair. I still struggle with being friends with the One who calms the storms. But I’m getting there. Why Do I Believe? I tried not to. I really did. But Jesus did what any Good Shephard does: he left the ninety-nine people in a “spiritually good place” and sought out the one, lost, broken, sad, and hurting sheep. Me. And He loved me back to health. “For I know the plans I have for you,’ says the Lord, ‘plans for well-being and not for trouble, to give you a future and a hope.” Jer 29:11 He was always there, with me. At the side of that evil house. Kneeling with me in a Catholic church. In a beam of light in Winter Park, Colorado. By a lake at a men’s retreat. Somehow, I’m still in the game. Why? Because he has plans for me. Beloved reader, do you need anything/everything to change? If so, do you have three days? © 2026 I.M Koen. Want more content like this? Explore more articles in the Why We Believe series.

“Some of them were ready to quit and go back to Egypt. Others just said, ‘Forget it. If this is what God has planned for me, I don’t want it.’ In spite of their gross lack of faith, God performed a miracle there on the desert sands, turning bitter waters into sweet waters.”  — Bill Wilson, Christianity in the Crosshairs. Children sulk. If they ask for candy or ice cream before bedtime and you say no, they don’t usually argue. Sometimes, they just…withdraw. They make those small pouted lips. Fold their hands. Avoid eye contact. Maybe crawl under a blanket and refuse to talk. Cute, and a little dramatic. If I’m being honest, that’s exactly how I’ve treated God for most of my life. Yeah, childish faith. There was a time, back in 2016, when I was trying to move to the States for graduate school. Everything seemed lined up. I had admission letters. Funding plans. Travel money. Confidence. I was pumped. I had prayed about it for months. All I needed was the visa. I was rejected at the American consulate during my visa interview. I tried again a few days later. Rejected. Again. More than five times! Each interview felt like walking toward a door I was sure God had opened… only to have it quietly shut in my face. I remember coming home after one of those interviews feeling like a dry, dead autumn leaf being pushed around by the cold wind. No direction. Just drifting with lots of questions. I had done everything “right." Prepared well. Prayed sincerely. Stayed hopeful. So why wasn’t it working? I didn’t lose my faith in some dramatic moment. I just started sulking. Whenever something important didn’t work out according to plan, an exam, an opportunity, something I had prayed over deeply, I reacted like a child who didn’t get what he wanted. Quietly, I would withdraw a little. Pray less. Open my Bible less. Talk less about faith. Not because I stopped believing God exists. But because I believed He could have changed the outcome…and didn’t. And honestly, that hurt. Later in life, the pattern repeated itself. Professional exams. Career plans. Moments where I thought: This time it will finally work. Sometimes it didn’t. And the old reaction came back. That tightening in the chest. That quiet distance. Like a child sitting in the corner thinking: “Fine. I won’t talk either.” You see, we don’t sulk toward someone we don’t believe in. We sulk because we expected something from them. It took me years to realize that. My frustration wasn’t proof of weak faith. It was proof of relationship. Looking back now, something about that surprises me. Every single time I pulled away…God didn’t. I reduced my prayers to silence. He remained steady. I stopped reading Scripture for weeks sometimes. He didn’t disappear. I sat in disappointment, convinced I had been forgotten. And slowly, without drama, I would find myself coming back. Opening Scripture again. Whispering short prayers again. Sitting quietly again. Like that same sulking child who finally peeks out from under the blanket…and slowly walks back into the living room. It almost feels funny now. Some doors never opened. Some plans dissolved completely. Some things I prayed for sincerely just didn’t happen. But I’m still here. Still talking to Him, wrestling and returning. I’m not here writing this to tell you that I believe because every prayer worked out the way I imagined. I believe because I’ve never been abandoned in my disappointment. I believe because even when I shut Him out for a while, He didn’t shut me out. My faith has survived my own immaturity. These days, I’m learning something slowly. For a long time, my faith was transactional. I thought if I prayed sincerely enough, prepared well enough, believed strongly enough, then God would arrange outcomes accordingly. But faith isn’t a transaction. Our faith must not be based on outcomes. God isn’t a vending machine responding to the right combination of effort and belief. He’s a Father. Patient enough to let me sulk. Steady enough to wait until I come back. If you’re someone whose prayers feel unanswered right now, I don’t have a formula. I wish I did. I’ve tried creating distance from God when I was disappointed. It never lasted. Not because I’m afraid of burning in hell, haha. But because something in me knows where home is. I don’t have a perfectly mapped future. I don’t understand every delay. Some days are still confusing. But I know this much. The God I get frustrated with is the same God I return to. The God I question is the same God who has carried me through every closed door so far. And maybe faith isn’t about never doubting. Maybe it’s about always returning. That’s why I believe. Even though I’ve seen manna falling from heaven less often, I’ve seen His pillar of fire by night and a pillar of cloud by day guiding me, walking with me day and night, protecting me (Exodus 13:21,22). His presence mattered. His presence assured me that everything happening in my life happens underneath Him. He is sovereign. Though I didn’t know the number of hairs on my head, He knew. The best part? He knows more about me than I do about myself! I didn’t have to listen to the devil’s conniving thoughts pushing me toward despair or separation from Him. I didn’t have to compare my journey with someone else’s. Like Jairus, when people told him his daughter was dead and to leave the Teacher alone, I had to hold onto the Teacher and “not be afraid and ONLY believe” (Luke 8:49,50). I didn’t have to believe and figure everything out and make sense of it all. I didn’t have to believe and try to understand the delay. Only believe. Everything around me sometimes said I was failing. I know how heavy that place feels. But strangely, trusting and believing in Him feels lighter. All I know that He wants from me now is this: childlike faith and not childish faith. If this reflection encouraged you, you can support my writing or future reflections here. Your support simply helps me continue sharing thoughtful pieces like this. Thanks for reading! © 2026 Dr. Anudeep Manne. Want more content like this? Explore more articles in the Why We Believe series.

I’m not ashamed of the Gospel, but rather than preach to you, I thought it might be better to answer a few questions, to explain why I choose to live in what some people consider a “toxic environment.” Why did I become a Christian? How did it happen? What is it like? Why am I still a Christian? What could anyone say to talk me out of this “mythical nonsense”? What is the one thing about Jesus that I’m sure the rest of the world cannot live without? I’ll try not to babble on. If anything here takes your fancy, we can always do coffee. Though it might take the whole coffee grove. 1. Why Did I Become a Christian? I was about fifty years old when my life began to unravel. I was going through what I can only describe as a mental meltdown. Medication didn’t help, and neither did alcohol. Friends and coworkers had their own struggles and couldn’t do much for me either. I had tried various psychological self-help techniques, but they only seemed to work when life was already going well. As soon as things started to wobble, the same old insecurities, “terrors” would be a better word, came crashing back in. I never felt suicidal because I was afraid of death. But there were times when death began to seem less frightening than continuing to live the way I was living. When I cried out to God in absolute panic, fear, and terror… He turned up. 2. How Did It Happen? For most of my life, I had been running from something. That explains the constant travel, the search for high-risk experiences, and the habit of changing jobs whenever things became uncomfortable. But eventually I reached a point where it felt like there were no more places left to run. I was out of my depth at work, living yesterday, today, and tomorrow all in the same moment. I felt like a pressure cooker about to explode. Depression is different for everyone, but mine felt like a black box about the size of a VCR that sucked in all hope that could be had. It was a strange mixture of crippling fear and numbness. I dreaded going to sleep because that meant I would have to wake up the next day and face it all again. From the outside, there seemed to be nothing I feared, yet I was afraid of almost everything. One wet and miserable Sunday morning, very early, I realized I was sliding deeper into that darkness. I could almost see myself disappearing into it and dragging my whole family down with me. At that moment, I felt like I had four options: medication, alcohol, drugs, or God. I had already tried alcohol years earlier, and that didn’t work. So God seemed the cheapest place to start. If that did not work, I could always try something else. My prayer wasn’t eloquent by any means. I simply said, “I’ve f***ed it all up and don’t know what to do.” There was no lightning bolt and no dramatic moment. In fact, at first it seemed like nothing had happened at all. But slowly the days began to change. They grew longer, the paralysis lifted, and the pressure began to ease. It was some time later that my mother said something that made me realize what had happened. She asked, “Remember when you were depressed?” There were no drugs or psychological treatment involved in pulling me out, only the Holy Spirit. And eventually, I got baptized. When people ask me, “What is the Holy Spirit like?” I struggle to give a thorough answer because there is just simply no one else like Him. (I’m the one fully committed to the underwater portion of the ceremony.) 3. What is it like? It is more than a spiritual experience. It is meeting a Person who loves me unconditionally, as no mere mortal can. Someone who will work with me and lead me to be the person He created me to be. It also meant discovering that God was not out to punish me or catch me failing. Instead, I began to understand that He genuinely has my best interests at heart, just as He does for everyone. At the same time, God is not a personal genie who exists to grant our wishes. He is the Creator, and He has a purpose for His creation. Humanity plays a central role in that plan. One of the most surprising realizations for me was this: God loved me enough to accept me exactly as I was, but He loved me too much to leave me that way. That meant a lot of crap in my life had to be chipped away, and some of that work is still ongoing. Sin is part of that conversation. It isn’t simply a list of forbidden behaviors that determines whether someone gets into heaven. At its core, sin is what happens when our will is in conflict with God’s will. Despite popular assumptions, God is not a grumpy killjoy trying to ruin everyone’s fun. Unfortunately, Christians sometimes give that impression. One of the best descriptions of Christianity I have ever heard is this: “Obey God and have fun” You don’t have to become good before you come to God. Instead, get God, and He will make you good — eventually. (Be patient, it does take a bit of time) Every Christian is a work in progress. It is a metamorphism. The transformation is something like a caterpillar becoming a butterfly. The caterpillar cannot control the process and cannot stop it. God does the work, and you notice things that happened that you didn’t expect. Looking back, I can see how many of my attitudes have changed. Things I once thought attractive no longer hold the same appeal, and things I once dismissed as worthless have become deeply meaningful. That change of mind is what the Bible calls repentance, and real-life change doesn’t happen without it. Letting go of control can feel frightening, but I have discovered there is a strange freedom in it. If anything, my only regret is that I didn’t do it sooner. Another topic worth mentioning is Satan. God gets the blame for everything, but a number of clever people are given credit for this quip: “One of the artifices of Satan is, to induce men to believe that he does not exist,” You can see it goes back a long way by the quaint language. He is malevolent, and his only interest is to steal, kill, and destroy. If you don’t believe there is a Satan, go to Northbridge, Soho, or King’s Cross and try to resist his activities. See how long you last. 4. Why are you still a Christian? Worshipping the God of the Bible is the only thing that has ever brought real sanity into a very insane world. It is not pseudo/cultural/quasi small ‘c’ christianity either. True Christianity is a Person, not an organisation, a building, or a set of rules compiled by a lot of self-righteous old men. Perhaps you’ve experienced being alone while in the midst of a crowd, and you’re the only one not in it. I may now be alone at times, but I never feel lonely. Actually, solitude is something I enjoy now. I have no fear of death because there is something after. My prayer, however, is to die well so that you guys can see that my faith has been genuine. 5. What could anyone say to talk me out of this mythical nonsense? Nothing. Faith without reason is unreasonable faith. I test every claim against Jesus. It takes study, not just reading, to get the vibe of the Bible. A helpful analogy comes from banking. Tellers are trained to spot counterfeit money, but they do not spend all their time studying fake bills. They handle the real thing so often that anything false becomes obvious. However, there must be something that even cynics and skeptics cannot deny about this “mythical nonsense,” I believe. And there is: Prophecy. The claim: Bible prophecies were injected into the Text after some event long ago, so they are unverifiable. I have a challenge for anyone who wants to take this on. In the Book of Isaiah, God promises to bring Israel back to the Land from exile a second time. But that was written about 120 years before the first exile ever even happened. Recorded history shows this first exile began in the First Year of Nebuchadnezzar, about 2,600 years ago, and finished in the Nineteenth Year of Nebuchadnezzar. (Google it.) Recorded history also shows that this second return occurred over a protracted period. It began in 1948, when Israel declared independence. Then, in 1967 (the Six-Day War), when they regained control of the Temple Mount, nineteen years later. (Read old copies of the newspaper.) That means the prophecy in Isaiah was written after 1967. If anyone can explain that, I’m all ears. God can withstand rigorous scrutiny. 6. What is the one thing about Jesus that I’m sure the rest of the world can’t live without? The answer, “The peace of God, which surpasses all understanding and is healing for the soul.” This kind of peace, which can only come from God, is difficult to explain because it is beyond all human understanding. We live in a world in which we were never designed for. With the pace of our days constantly increasing. It is a lie disguised as efficiency. But efficient for what exactly? To produce more stuff? That “time-is-money” saying is a lie from the pits of hell and robs you of peace. My experience. Medication can help manage pain, anxiety, and depression, but they do not bring healing. Actually, feeling the pain is better than feeling nothing at all. There are no psychological self-help techniques that work on the level needed to truly heal your soul and body. Minor things can be managed, but sooner or later, the old inadequacies find a chink in the armour of a positive attitude and will come pouring back in. It is best described as a drowning person lifting himself out of the water by his own hair. The help must come from a different paradigm, and that help is there for anyone who asks for it. But the price is high. Your pride. The reason the world doesn’t embrace this free offering from God is pride; that inexplicable, stupid, and wholly unnecessary urge to show how much pain can be endured by “doing it my way.” (There could be a song in that title.) I’ve been told that Jesus is for women and old men. My reply to that has always been, “I can’t speak for women, but by the Grace of God, I’m an old man.” Will you be able to say the same? — Now that’s a conversation stopper. I try not to preach to you, but I pray. Oh, how I pray. © 2026 Brad Banardict. Want more content like this? Explore more articles in the Why We Believe series.

Deep down, all humans want to believe in something. Without belief, we would not have evolved and survived this long. We would not have science, medicine, or inventions if we did not believe they would work. We all believe in something, whether we want to admit it or not. For example, atheists may not believe in God, but they believe that God does not exist. A bit confusing to comprehend, but there is still a belief within their conviction. While I have never been an atheist, I once considered myself a spiritual being who believed that God was anything and everything. Therefore, I considered myself and all others to be God, as well as creation itself. I rejected Christianity. I never fully understood the love of Jesus Christ. So how come after years of rejecting Him, I now believe in God, Jesus, and the Holy Spirit with all of my heart? Through all of the messiness and brokenness of the world, through all of the struggles I’ve had with mental health, through all of the struggles I’ve had to belong and fit in… I don’t have to pretend with Jesus. I don’t have to strive for perfection. He’s already done that for all of us. I don’t have to put on a front with Him; he knows everything about me. He knows everything about everyone! Even the darkest secrets I try to hide so deeply from the rest of the world, He sees right through me. And you know what? It’s relieving. Isn’t it exhausting hiding secrets full of shame from friends and family? I’ve made so many poor decisions in my life, so many that I’ve yet to tell a single soul. I’ve tried so hard to maintain a perfect facade, that I’m strong, mature, and almost ‘’perfect.’’ That I’m doing just fine. But I’m not. And Jesus knows that down to the core. I think we forget that we are all human beings. We are not always happy, we are not perfect, and we are not God. And you know what? After years of fighting this brokenness and imperfection, I’m learning to accept it and give it all to Jesus. So yes, I’m not always nice, happy, smart, or mature. But guess what? No one else is. And if someone says they’re not broken in some sort of way, it’s a pretense. I am not perfect. Nobody is perfect. And I’m okay with that because Jesus fixes that by perfectly loving every single person. So when I feel lonely and am let down by friends and family, I know that He won’t ever let me down. And if you’ve read my testimony (which, if you haven’t, check it out!), you know that I struggle mentally. Sometimes it feels like my own mind and body are letting me down. And re-reading that just sounds plain sad, but it’s the truth. Lately, I’ve been struggling badly with anxiety, and some of those depressive feelings have been coming back. And man, sometimes it’s hard to keep believing in Jesus and His perfect love. Sometimes I question why He’d allow something like that to happen to me, to others, and to the world as a whole. But something in me just needed to write this, and I think that is enough proof of God’s power working within. Through all the pain, I still look up to God. I still believe. Although I am going through a rough patch (and will in the future to come), I will never forget the sacrifice that Jesus made for humankind. He lived a perfect life, never once sinned, and still took on all of humanity’s sin, past, present, and future, and died with it on the cross. I will never forget how he took away the suicidal thoughts I had last school year. I will never forget how blessed I am to have a wonderful family, friendships, university, and environment to live in. So yes, I am struggling, but I still believe. © 2026 Sienna Krieg. Want more content like this? Explore more articles in the Why We Believe series.

Are you struggling through life right now? Do you desperately want help, or do you want to continue slogging your way through life on your own? (How’s that working for you?) Are you ready to give up? I sincerely hope not because I have some great news for you: hope is available, help is sure, and happiness is just around the corner. Here’s how I know these facts are true. How I know — intuitively The reason I know help is available, and hope is possible, is that I was desperate too. As a teenager, I had run away from home seven times. During one of those times, I was taken in by a couple living in a small home high up on Green Mountain in Burnsville, North Carolina, near Asheville. The couple had a huge fight one night, and I didn’t want to hear it, so I wandered around outside and sat down near some flowers. Sitting there, looking out into the valley below, I cried out in my mind, “What am I doing here? What am I going to do? How am I going to get out of this mess?” Suddenly, I felt a presence, a calmness, a feeling of warm love surrounding me, and a thought came into my mind. “Don’t worry, I’m here, I will protect you and help you, it’s going to be okay.” Since nobody was around, I assume that thought must have come from God. It must have, because after that, I had the strength to leave that situation, and eventually made it home, back to my parents in Florida. How I know — emotionally Growing up, I was completely rebellious and an utter moral failure. When I think back to all the times I cried out for help through prayer and journaling during those lonely years, it’s absolutely amazing how God helped me get through every single one of those desperate situations. Sometimes, God answered my prayers by not giving me what I wanted (such as that serious relationship with Philip), and boy am I glad! Sometimes, God made me wait an extremely long time for something I wanted, and during that waiting period, I learned patience, gained wisdom, and, in some cases, ended up wanting something else entirely! Do you feel guilty about things you’ve done that you know are wrong? That’s good! That’s God’s moral compass inside you guiding you toward Him. Don’t ignore it! It’s there for a reason! God wants you to take that guilt to His Son, Jesus, and let Him remove it. He is the ONLY ONE WHO CAN! I did this and have never regretted it. My conversion experience (surrender to the Lordship of Jesus Christ over my life) came slowly because I’m extremely stubborn, but it finally did. I gave up, I said to God one night on my knees at my bedside: “Lord, I see where my best thinking has gotten me to this point of despair. If there is a better way to live, please show me. I’m ready to listen.” The next day, the Lord guided me to people who had a program that helped me get out of the pit I was in, and I met others who guided me to attend a local church, where I learned more about God. There is something in you and me that longs to worship. It’s because we were both made in the image of God, and worship is about relationship. We want to be reconciled to God because He is our true Father who wants us to come home eventually to be with Him forever in Heaven. We worship out of our gratitude to our heavenly Father, and worship brings joy. We serve our heavenly Father through His body, the Church, and we receive happiness by giving of our time, talents, and money. It’s out of our gratitude for God’s mercy, grace, and forgiveness that we serve. How I know — intellectually The reason I know God is real, even though He is invisible, is that He gave me a mind and the ability to know Him through my reasoning abilities. From the Bible, I learned that God has not hidden Himself from us! We can see Him through His Son, Jesus, because Jesus Himself said that if we have seen Him, we have seen the Father (John 14:8–10). He is not just a messenger telling us about God: He is God in human flesh. So the Word became human and made his home among us. He was full of unfailing love and faithfulness. And we have seen his glory, the glory of the Father’s one and only Son. (John 1:13, NLT) Jesus’ consistently good character, demonstrated by His life, teachings, miracles, death, and resurrection, demonstrates that He is who He claimed to be. His resurrection, attested by hundreds of eyewitnesses, is the ultimate confirmation that God is real and that He has acted in history to save us. The Bible is God’s revelation of Himself to humanity, not merely an ancient book full of errors. It records His actions in history, His moral law, and His plan of salvation. The unity of Scripture is supernatural. It was written by over forty authors from different continents across fifteen hundred years, yet all relating one consistent story of redemption through Christ. The accounts of miracles in the Bible are to be expected, if, after all, our supernatural God is the author. Why shouldn’t He break into His creation at times for His own purposes? You CAN trust the Bible because you can trust its author, God. You do NOT have to take a blind leap of faith to do so. Instead, marvel at the overwhelming evidence of its internal consistency, historical and archaeological reliability, fulfilled prophecy, and transforming power, all of which confirm its divine origin. Heaven and earth will pass away, but my words will never pass away. (Matthew 24:35, NIV) He has also revealed Himself clearly through creation. It is the most basic proof of His existence. For ever since the world was created, people have seen the earth and sky. Through everything God made, they can clearly see his invisible qualities, his eternal power and divine nature. So, they have no excuse for not knowing God. (Romans 1:20, NLT) Modern science points to the Big Bang as the beginning of the universe. This discovery aligns with the biblical truth that the universe had a definite beginning caused by an all-powerful, immaterial, personal Creator who exists outside of time, space, and matter (Genesis 1:1). The heavens proclaim the glory of God. The skies display his craftsmanship. (Psalm 19:1, NLT) The beauty and order of the universe, the vast information in DNA [1], the fine-tuning of the values of the constants of physics [2] (without which, life would be impossible), and the universe’s complexity indicate real, intelligent design, not mere appearances of design by accident. I know from experience that God will reveal Himself personally to those who seek Him because that’s what He did for me. Even though I don’t know Him yet as much as I’d like to, I know He’s close by and wants to have a relationship with me. I feel closest to Him and hear His voice when I’m deep in prayer. In the Bible, God promised to make Himself known to people. You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart. (Jeremiah 29:13, NIV) Conclusion We know that someday we’re all going to die, and we’re going to be dead a lot longer than we ever were alive. To me, believing in God makes good sense because it’s the only thing that gives my life meaning and purpose. The Bible makes it clear why I’m here and what I’m supposed to do with the time and talents God has given me. God has not left us in the dark, to live alone in the universe He created for us. He exists, and He loves us! Through Scripture and through His Son Jesus, He has spoken, acted, and revealed Himself so that we would be able to know Him and be reconciled to Him. I believe in Jesus Christ because I have seen enough evidence to believe that He alone is the risen Savior who offers forgiveness and eternal life to all who repent and trust in Him. In no other religion has the founder died for his followers or risen from the dead. The empty tomb is not just history; it is hope, help, and happiness. © 2026 Debra Hodges. Want more content like this? Explore more articles in the Why We Believe series. References: 1. Meyer, Stephen C. Return of the God Hypothesis. New York: HarperOne, 2021, chapters 16–18. 2. Meyer, Stephen C. Return of the God Hypothesis. New York: HarperOne, 2021, chapters 11–13.

Early Questions & Childhood Faith “Why do you believe in Jesus?” someone may ask. I’ll give you a very simple answer. Because I’ve never had all the answers. It may sound silly, but I’m going to take you along with me through my own walk of life. Belief, or awareness of something beyond me, has always been something I’ve been drawn to for a very long time. As someone who has experienced tragedy and suffering (even at my age of 21), I’ve always tried to make sense of the brokenness and pain we continue to go through in this lifetime. And my mind is designed to be analytical, to make meaning. And I had heard the cliché answers long enough : “We live in a broken world.” “Purpose is found in suffering.” “We’re human; there’s a lot beyond us.” Or on the other extreme. “We were created with only one purpose: to know God.” “We are spiritual beings having a temporary earthly experience.” “When we die, we go to heaven.” None of these truly answered the question burning in my heart: “Why am I alive?” And so began the process of a small question that slowly grew into something much bigger. For me, there was no one clear answer that sat right with my heart. To put it into context, I grew up in a Christian home (and still do), a regular church attendee from a child, but more out of family tradition than personal conviction. I knew the jargon. I had an understanding of what was taught as the gospel of Christ. I knew what salvation meant. I knew that every time I ate a meal, I had to pray, “Father, bless this food, in Jesus name we pray, Amen!” As if, if I didn’t remember God before eating the food I needed to live, something bad was going to happen. “Eating with the devil,” people called it. And for better or for worse, religion was handed down to me, and brilliantly at that. Don’t lie. Don’t steal. If you lie, you go to hell. Be good. Don’t be bad. You either go to heaven or go to hell. It all seemed good. Every time I looked in the mirror, I knew I was alive, but never knew why. I knew there was something greater beyond what I saw physically, but I never had an answer for it. But heaven and hell? It sounded plausible enough. Challenges and Confusion By the time I reached primary school, what we commonly call “just life experiences growing up” started to teach me a few things. I’ve always been a deep thinker with a strong mind, but a big heart, and glimpses of the world’s imbalance began to appear. People would bully, mock, and reject me. They would make fun of others and do questionable things in the eyes of others, and get away with it. Whereas “good people” like me had to learn how to suffer early. The idea that there was an eternal reward for being a “good person” waiting for me in heaven — where the angels are, and the streets are apparently made of gold, and that bad people go to hell — was enough for little me to feel justified, believing I was good and others were bad. Because I thought that if I was good, that was enough. And so I knew I was enough. And kept pushing. I kept going. When I arrived at secondary school, another layer of intelligence was peeled away, and understanding unfolded. I went to a Roman Catholic secondary school, so regular mass, prayers in lessons, and a background of Catholicism should have been enough to silently confirm my values. But those values were challenged the moment I looked around at my peers: curiosity, false freedom, adventurous children — much like I could have been — believing they were free to explore attraction and life. Often, when we see older people living enjoyable lives, we try to live the same way, just to taste the freedom we believe we once lacked. It looked good, so it must be good, right? And I, in holding to what I’d been taught as a child, kept repeating the same narrative that kept me from indulging in the same life: “They’re bad people. I’m a good person. I’m going to heaven.” But silently, jealousy grew within my heart. These people were virtually doing whatever they wanted, and I had to uphold the commandments I firmly believed in as a child. On top of that, people grew into the same life I envied to have, only with no conviction! Yet even thinking about walking in that life filled me with fear and guilt. I worried that I would be a bad person and go to hell. And as I progressed through secondary school, the less I saw the present rewards of upholding what I believed in. The questions then became: “How are they doing this and getting away with it?” and “Why do I have to wait for heaven to be blessed by God?” At this point, you’d expect me to question my faith. But the security of what I knew, coupled with living in a Christian home, gave me a false sense of safety. Instead of examining my beliefs, I began to participate in the ‘bad life’ I had sworn I wouldn’t live. “If they’re doing it, I can do it too.” My Christian upbringing prevented me from crossing a few lines. But rest assured, I tried to avoid getting caught. One thing leads to another, and suddenly you live a life you’re comfortable with. And the God you solemnly swear is “watching you” remains quiet on your life. I had an idea that God was watching, and an idea of what sin was, but never personally felt that He indeed was watching me, let alone aware of my sins. Searching for God at University Problems and tragedies increased in my personal life, but I either dismissed them, tackled them, or numbed myself. As long as I could indulge in many comforts and return to habits that soothed the pain, nothing seemed to matter. From betrayal by close friends to eroded trust in relationships, the pain was numbed through coping mechanisms and self-soothing. Diversions happened. Doors closed on me. Opportunities were snatched away. By the time I reached sixth form, I learned to mask depression through random activity and private habits. Again, I had an idea I was sinning, and that God knew, but never felt as if He was watching me, let alone aware of my sin. After finishing A Levels, awaiting results, I prayed to God for good results and to open the door to go to the university of my hopes, although this was blind, not born in faith, but in fear. I attached clauses to it: “Lord, if you give me this, I’ll actually take you seriously in uni.” “I’ll go to church and try.” “I’ll follow you for real this time if I get it.” Surely enough, the door opened, and relief came. Yet I still had not experienced God knowing me, or me knowing Him. He had only answered my prayer. I did not approach Him again until I arrived at university, the stark answer to my prayers staring me in the face. And with a small grumble and envy for others living unchecked lives, I said to myself, “Let’s try this Jesus thing out.” I still remained jealous of my peers and wanted to live recklessly and experience all the freedoms they had, but I felt I had to uphold the promises I made to God. I didn’t know better at the time; I was just afraid He would take everything away if I didn’t follow Him. Crisis of Faith and a Tangible Encounter And so I went to work on it. I decided to stop my private habits and intentionally stop sinning. I avoided a lot of social activity. I went to church and tried to do better for God, thinking that if I physically did more in church and became a good person out of my own strength, I’d please God. I even took on the role of a prayer leader, discovering my gifts and pursuing them in serving people and serving the church, all to appear as a godly person in white garments. But that was far from the truth. Funnily enough, I went deeper into prayer. Like an entry into a cave where mysteries lie, so was I, being pulled deeper into a covenant I knew nothing of, nor did I particularly plan for, but I knew one thing: I wanted to know more of God. Of course, I didn’t want to admit that I just wanted to understand the Bible more and the mechanics of praying to a distant God (to me) so that I could say I knew God. I intended to become more spiritual… because deep inside, I knew I hadn’t truly encountered God. I wanted Him to be real to others, even if He was barely real to me. What was I to tell the people..........Ideas? It wasn’t enough. I did know the Bible, and deeply at that. I grasped His knowledge, but had nothing to tangibly hold my faith in. And upon stumbling upon a few passages, the message of heaven and hell became less and less convincing for me. I began to believe less in an afterlife, and the Bible honestly read like a record of a spiritual reality that once existed, not a God we could know today. My entire childhood understanding crumbled at that point. I failed to believe that the heaven I had once sworn to enter even existed. At that point, my faith became entirely intellectual as I tried to logically prove something beyond all logic. The idea of God faltered before my eyes. I was a walking atheist, again — never admitting it to myself, but living it in practice. Nothing mattered. Heaven or hell wasn’t real to me. So why not just live however I wanted? And once I found enough logic to muzzle my doubts, I sought knowledge again, still trying to show others a living God who was dead to me. Preaching, praying, and prophesying about a God who was merely a summary of my thoughts seemed enough to get by, and the cross seemed like just a complex Bible story I could analyze. But the others who listened seemed to understand it, and that became validation enough for me to continue. Until not too long ago, when my lack of faith began to show in the push and pull of life and relationships. What seemed real enough to others began to fracture before my eyes once again. I didn’t see His hand at work. I failed to recognize His goodness in daily life. And I’d be lying if I said I praised or thanked God for waking up every day. The simplicity of routine life clashed with the massive God I had in mind. With all the knowledge I had of God, my life shouldn’t have turned out the way it did. Why me? One day, with frustrations piling up, I simply said to myself, “Lord, I’m done,” and went to bed. I had a silent hope that He would hear my prayer of giving up on Him, but I refused to have anything to do with Him… Until the next morning, when I was reading Revelation 6. It was a morning devotion that I was only half paying attention to, expecting nothing more than history, information, and possibly a bit of myth. Without warning, a presence moved from the door opening to where I was, tangibly resting and flowing around my head. Placing my iPad down, I engaged properly, using my willpower to push the presence away. “Encounters” could be imagined, but this? I couldn’t shake off. A quick 10-second wrestle with my willpower showed me that this presence did not want to go anywhere. And while I remained in my room, the presence stood. To test if this was just my imagination, I did the only thing I knew to do in the presence of a King: Speak I said, “Lord, I want to know your Word. If this is you, I honour you, for you’ve shown me heaven. I want to know and understand you better, and take you for who you really are, IF this is You.” The second I said that, a portion of that same presence entered my heart. And truly, I had never been so happy and peaceful in my life, both at the same time. Rejoicing, yet still. Overwhelmed, yet perfectly controlled. Peace filled me… and a Person who knew that I had been looking for Him all my life. And as I fully accepted this Presence, a warm hug touched my heart. At this point, I truly knew a Person held me dearly. I had to leave to be with my family. Upon leaving this encounter, I said, “Thank you, Lord.” Much to my amazement, He simply… left, awaiting our next heartfelt conversation together. Transformation & Testimony From that day, everything I had been taught, prayed, and proclaimed became alive to me in a pure well of the water of life. I knew truly that He does watch me. I knew truly that my heart of sin makes me unconscious of His presence, and that being honest before Him in a heart of repentance allows me to encounter Him in ways I simply can’t describe, let alone imagine. At 21, I have just begun adult life as we know it, and the journey is long despite my vast knowledge of Him. I cannot say I have any answers at all, but I can testify that there is a God in heaven who knows secrets and reveals Himself to those willing to seek Him. He has mercy on those whom He has mercy, and compassion on those whom He has compassion. This is why I believe. And this is what I’ve seen. © 2026 Jason Degraft-Quansah. Want more content like this? Explore more articles in the Why We Believe series.

Some time ago, my friends and I, about 12 to 15 of us, were playing cricket at a nearby playground. Near the end of the day, most of them headed home. But my neighbour and I stayed back. He’s a good friend. His family was Hindu, attended temple rituals, but he himself never really followed any of it. So in a way, he was floating somewhere between Hindu and atheist, just living life without much of a label. We were fielders, standing just a few feet apart, and somewhere between overs, he started asking me questions about faith. I answered as best I could. Then, after the last game wrapped up and the ground emptied, he turned to me and asked quietly: “But how do you actually know?” I didn’t quote a verse. I definitely didn’t plan on debating him. I just said, “Because I can’t explain us without God.” He laughed. But I meant it. Here’s what I believe at the core, imperfectly but fully: the fact that we’re human at all is the evidence. Not a specific miracle I witnessed or an et voilà moment. Just…us. The way we love, the way we ache for something beyond this life, the way we build and create and bow down to God (or someone or even something), even when we swear we don’t. Let me explain. We Love in Ways That Don’t Make Evolutionary Sense Think about it for a second. Real, sacrificial love, the kind where you give up something precious for someone else, doesn’t exactly help you survive. It definitely doesn’t sound like the cold logic of “survival of the fittest.” And yet, here we are. Wired for it. I think that’s a fingerprint. The Bible puts it plainly in 1 John 4:7–8 (NIV): “Love comes from God. Everyone who loves has been born of God. Whoever does not love does not know God, because God is love.” That verse used to feel abstract to me. Now it feels like a diagnosis. Our hunger for deep, real, committed relationships: friendship, marriage, community, it’s not a social accident. It’s a design feature. We were made by a God who exists in relationship, Father, Son, Spirit, and He pressed that need into us like a seal into wax. Even broken people love. People who’ve been badly hurt love again. That’s not just biology. That’s something older than us. There’s This Ache We Can’t Shake Here’s something I think we don’t talk about enough. Every human being, across every culture, in every century, has looked at death and whispered: this can’t be it. Where does that come from? Ecclesiastes 3:11 (GNT) says God “has given us a desire to know the future, but never gives the satisfaction of fully understanding what He does.” Which, honestly, is a bit maddening but real too. We’re the only creatures on earth who lie awake at 2 am thinking about eternity. Animals don’t do that. I simply cannot imagine our Faithful Writers creator, Jane Isley’s dog, Clyde, pondering the ultimate fate of the cosmos. But I do. You probably have too, at some point. That restlessness, that forward-leaning, that refusal to accept that we just…end, I think it’s a memory. A faint one, but real. Before sin entered the picture, we weren’t built to die. And some part of us still knows it. That longing isn’t weakness. It’s a clue. Even Atheists Bow Down to Something I want to be careful here, because this isn’t a dig at anyone. It’s just an honest observation. Nobody is truly without worship. Some people worship success. Some worship community, justice, science, or their own freedom. Even the most committed atheist has something they protect fiercely, something they’d sacrifice for, something that shapes how they live and what they’d die for. Acts 17:27–28 (NIV) says God placed us so we would “seek Him and perhaps reach out for Him and find Him,” because “in him we live and move and have our being.” That’s a staggering claim. It means the very act of searching, even searching in the wrong direction, is evidence of the original design still running in the background. Sin doesn’t erase it. It redirects it. And honestly, that misdirection is something I’ve lived too. I’ve given myself to “idols” that weren’t God and felt the hollow aftermath. That emptiness is also, I think, a kind of proof. You still don’t believe me when I say “atheists bow down to something”? Well, imagine this: every passenger on the plane starts praying as soon as they know when the plane’s going to crash. Every. Single. One. Now you believe me, don’t you? Haha. We Create. And That’s Actually Weird. We make things. Not just for survival. We make art, music, write poetry, stories like this one. We build cities, cook elaborate meals, and rearrange furniture just to make a room feel more like home. We look at an empty canvas or an empty page and feel compelled to fill it with something meaningful/beautiful. Where does that come from? Genesis 1 shows us a God who creates, who looks at chaos and shapes it into something ordered and good. Then He makes us in His image (Genesis 1:26–27, GNT). Ephesians 2:10 (NIV) calls us “God’s handiwork, created in Christ Jesus to do good works.” We are, in a sense, sub-creators like little elves or minions of the original Artist. Every time I see a person make something meaningful, something that moves it bolsters my belief every single time. So Where Does Jesus Fit in All This? Here’s the thing. If these are fingerprints, then Jesus is the hand. He’s not just a moral teacher or an interesting historical figure. Hebrews 1:3 (NIV) calls him “the exact representation of God’s being.” Colossians 1:15 (GNT) calls him “the visible likeness of the invisible God.” He’s what God looks like with skin on. I love that. And the reason that matters is this: the image in us is damaged. Sin caused that. Yeah. Zoom out and you’ll see it. We love, but badly. We worship, but often the wrong things. We create, but sometimes we destroy. The image is real, but it’s fractured or obscured. Christ came to restore it. Not by guilt-tripping us into better behaviour, but through the Holy Spirit slowly, steadily making us “more and more like him” (2 Corinthians 3:18, NLT). That’s a process. It’s not fast or linear. I know I’m still very much in it, if I’m honest. But it’s happening. And one day, 1 John 3:2 (NIV) promises, “we shall be like Him, because we shall see Him as He is.” That’s why I believe. Not because I have all the answers. But because when I look at what it means to be human: the love, the longing, the worship, the creativity, I can’t make sense of any of it without a God who made us for Himself. And that God is not distant. He’s in us if you believe that Jesus died for us and rose up the third day. If you have faith in Him, trust Him, He’s already in you, restoring what was broken, slowly turning the distorted image back into something glorious day by day. If this stirred something in you, even a question, I’d love to hear it in the comments. Questions are welcome here. Thanks for taking the time to read! © 2026 Dr. Anudeep Manne. Want more content like this? Explore more articles in the Why We Believe series.

I have never been asked why I believe in God before, and I’m kind of glad that I haven’t been asked this question because I wouldn’t have been able to answer in the moment. This question has really thrown me for a loop because once I became a born-again believer, I never continued to dig into the why. I was always focused on my walk with God and never really asked myself why I continue to believe in Him. Truthfully, I don’t think I will ever be able to fully articulate why I believe in God…at least not to the extent that I would like to. Something changes in you once you surrender your life to Christ; there’s a part of you that just desires Him. Now, I crave something other than myself, and I think the more I continue on this journey with Him, the more I will get to see and understand who He is. So, while it’s hard for me to put into words exactly why I believe in Him, here are some truths that He has shown me… Over the few short years that I’ve known the Lord, there’ve been a lot of doubts and questions that I’ve had, but He has repeatedly shown me two things: He created everything for a purpose, and He wants to and will provide for us. 1) The Lord created the world and us with a purpose. I look at the world around us and see the details that make it so beautiful. I see how everything functions together — how birds know how to migrate right before winter comes, how ecosystems and galaxies are so complex and somehow function perfectly. When I look at the world around me and notice all those details, I find it nearly impossible that it was all created by chance. There has to be something that created such intricate systems, and the Bible clearly explains that God created everything in the universe with such care and thought. The more I read His word and spend time with Him, the more I see His hand in the world around me. I see how He created each person on this earth so different from one another, and how beautiful and creative our creator is to create us distinctly unique. 2) He wants to and will provide for me. Over the years, I’ve come to know that God is a loving one. He loves all His children so much that He provides for their every need. I’ve had circumstances in my life since walking with the Lord where I wasn’t sure how I was going to make it through. I remember one time in particular when I needed three hundred dollars within a few weeks, and I wasn’t sure how I would come up with the money. However, the Lord provided me with the exact amount I needed. Over the years, I’ve seen the Lord provide for friends, family, and myself through finances, emotional support, and physical support by providing others to help in those situations. There are many other reasons as to why I believe in God, but those are the two main reasons that I know how to articulate into words. Like any relationship that you have with someone, numerous details add up to why you trust, hope, love, and believe in that individual. For me, it’s the same with God. The more that I get to know Him and work on our relationship, the more He reveals about Himself to me. The more our relationship develops, the more I see Him in the world around me and how He is moving in my life. I can feel His presence when I’m going through tough situations, when I’m alone in my room praying, going for a walk in the park, and even when I’m having deep Christ-centered conversations with the ones I love. The more our relationship develops, the more I trust in Him and know that He is in my life. There’s just a steadiness in my life that I know is Him, and the way I know that it is Him is simply through spending time with Him. I think that’s the reason why it’s important to spend time with the Lord, because the more one spends time with Him, the more they can see that He is there walking beside them in life, and He will never leave them. © 2026 Sierra Loew. Want more content like this? Explore more articles in the Why We Believe series.