Is God Real? "Why You Feel Drawn to Something More"

When people begin searching for God, the instinctive impulse is often to look upward, to the vastness of the sky, to the claims of science, or to the structures of organized religion. Yet one of the most revealing places to begin is far more intimate: within the human person. Across every culture, across every era of recorded history, human beings display a remarkably consistent moral intuition. We instinctively recognize that some actions are good and others are evil. We feel the weight of injustice even when it does not touch us directly. Acts of cruelty unsettle us, while acts of mercy stir something noble within us. This moral awareness does not behave like a cultural fashion or a survival mechanism; it operates more like something implanted; an interior compass aligned toward a higher standard.

If human beings were nothing more than the product of blind evolutionary processes driven solely by survival, why would we condemn injustice even when it costs us? Why would we risk our lives for strangers? Why would we seek truth when deception might protect us? Throughout the centuries, philosophers from Plato to Augustine to Kant have concluded that objective moral values require an objective moral Lawgiver. Scripture affirms precisely this: God is the holy, unchanging source from whom morality flows. Without Him, morality collapses into preference and negotiation. With Him, morality becomes revelation, something given, not invented.

From this inner witness of conscience, our search naturally extends outward to the world around us. Creation itself speaks, almost as though it bears the fingerprints of a Master Designer. Modern cosmology confirms that the universe is not eternal; it had a beginning moment when time, space, matter, and energy sprang into existence. The fine-tuning of universal constants—gravity, electromagnetism, the strong and weak nuclear forces creates a razor-thin margin within which life can exist at all. Adjust any one of these by the smallest fraction, and stars, planets, and biological chemistry become impossible.

And on the microscopic level, DNA functions as an astonishingly complex information system, containing coded instructions for life itself. Such intelligibility does not arise from randomness. The universe does not simply exist. Its beauty, coherence, and mathematical elegance suggest the presence of a purposeful Mind behind the material world.

History then adds its own testimony. Jesus of Nazareth is not a mythological figure crafted by later tradition; He is one of the most historically attested individuals of the ancient world. We possess multiple eyewitness accounts, early manuscripts, and corroborating historical references from both Christian and non-Christian sources. The Gospels describe His teachings, His authority, His miracles, His crucifixion under Pontius Pilate, and the startling claims concerning His resurrection. The explosive growth of the early church cannot be explained by social advantage or political power; those who proclaimed Christ did so at the cost of persecution, exile, and often death. They were convinced not merely of an idea but of an event. Jesus did not only point humanity toward God; He claimed unity with God and substantiated that claim through works that defy natural explanation. Christianity is grounded not in abstraction but in verifiable history.

Yet as we explore these realities, we inevitably encounter a doctrine that many would prefer to avoid: the reality of hell. Modern culture often caricatures hell as primitive fearmongering or a divine overreaction. But Scripture presents a far more coherent and morally serious picture. Hell is not a cosmic tantrum or arbitrary cruelty. It is the sober and tragic consequence of rejecting the God who is the source of all goodness, truth, and life. Jesus (who embodied perfect love) spoke about hell more than anyone else, not to intimidate but to alert. If God genuinely respects human freedom, then our rejection of Him must have real consequences. A world without final judgment would be a world in which evil ultimately triumphs, injustice is never addressed, and moral accountability evaporates. Hell reminds us that our choices possess eternal weight.

Of course, believing in God (or in judgment? is not always simple. Many sincere seekers wrestle with faith because of painful religious experiences, hypocrisy in spiritual communities, or shallow teaching that distorts God’s character. Others stumble over the idea of divine punishment, assuming it contradicts the notion of a loving God. Still others think faith is outdated or incompatible with scientific discovery. Yet doubts, when engaged honestly and not ignored, can serve as a doorway to deeper understanding. The issue is not the presence of doubt but the direction we take it. Christianity does not demand intellectual surrender; it invites thoughtful, informed trust. Those who investigate carefully often discover that Christian faith illuminates reality rather than obscuring it.

That trust ultimately rests in the character of God, a God who is both love and justice. Scripture refuses to reduce Him to either dimension. Humanity was created for communion with God, but sin fractured that relationship, producing the brokenness we see both within ourselves and throughout the world. Jesus entered that brokenness not to condemn but to redeem. His life, sacrificial death, and resurrection offer reconciliation, forgiveness, and new life. Hell is not the negation of God’s love—it is what remains when His love is persistently rejected. True love warns. True love sacrifices. True love extends the way home.

Beneath all intellectual reasoning lies something even more profound: longing. C.S. Lewis famously noted that every earthly desire echoes a deeper hunger, one that nothing in this world can ultimately satisfy. We long for meaning, beauty, justice, intimacy, transcendence, and eternity. These are not illusions; they are signals. They point beyond themselves to the One who made us. Those who earnestly seek God often discover a peace that defies explanation, a sense of belonging that feels ancient and eternal, and a purpose that reaches beyond the rhythms of daily life. These experiences are not self-generated emotional states; they are encounters with the personal God who calls us to Himself.

And this brings everything into clear focus. Theology is not abstract speculation. Philosophy is not detached analysis. The question of God is fundamentally personal. What we believe about God shapes how we live, what we value, how we love, and where we place our hope. The claims of Jesus; that He is the way, the truth, and the life, remain the most consequential claims in human history. Ignoring them does not remove their significance; it only postpones the inevitable moment when we must face them.

So how do we respond? We begin with honesty, with acknowledging our questions, our doubts, and our deepest desires. We examine the evidence with both intellect and humility. We approach Scripture with openness. We pray, even if our prayer feels uncertain or hesitant. And we seek community; people who pursue truth with grace, integrity, and spiritual depth. Faith is not a leap into darkness; it is a step toward the light of ultimate reality.

In the end, our search draws us to one pivotal question: What will you do with what you now know? Our moral intuition points to a moral God. Creation and history testify to His existence. Hell reminds us that choices carry consequences. God’s love and justice converge perfectly in Jesus. And our own longing calls us toward Him.

If your heart feels stirred, you may begin with a simple, earnest prayer:

“God, if You are real, please show me. Reveal the truth. Forgive my sins and lead me into new life.”

Faith does not silence every question, but it anchors those questions in the One who holds every answer, the One who entered history, bore our burdens, and invites us into fellowship with Himself.