Who Is God… and Does He Exist?

Who is God? How do we know He’s real? What makes the Bible any different from a story or a fairytale?

Those are questions people have asked for generations, and the truth is, I don’t think the answer is something you can prove with facts alone. It’s not something you can measure or hold in your hands. For me, it’s something I’ve lived.

There have been moments in my life when I didn’t have the strength to keep going, when everything in me felt completely worn down—and somehow, I still stood back up. Not because I had the strength, but because I felt carried. Like I wasn’t walking through it alone. Like those footprints in the sand weren’t mine by myself.

I see God in the blessings I have each and every day. In the laughter of my kids, the warmth of the sun on my face, and the love and support of my family and friends. I feel Him in the quiet moments too—when I’m alone, when the tears don’t stop, and yet there’s this unexplainable sense of comfort, like I’m being held and reminded that it will be okay. One bad day doesn’t define a life filled with blessings, and I know mine is full.

I see Him in the beauty of the world around me—in the colors of a sunset, the rhythm of the ocean waves, the intricate detail in a bald eagle’s feathers, the wind in my hair, the smell of fresh pine in the woods, and the salt in the ocean air. I see Him in new beginnings, like the cry of a newborn baby, but I also see Him in the hardest places—death, loss, and suffering—because those are often the moments I feel His presence the most. Not in taking the pain away, but in standing beside me through it, giving me the strength to keep going.

Maybe that’s the part that’s hardest to explain to someone else. Faith isn’t always about having answers; sometimes it’s about trusting even when you don’t. It’s the quiet strength that shows up when you know you’ve run out of your own. It’s the kind of peace that doesn’t make sense in the middle of chaos.

So who is God? For me, He is not distant or abstract. He is present. He is in the strength I didn’t have, in the love that surrounds me, and in the beauty that stops me in my tracks. He is in the laughter of my children and in the tears I cry when no one is watching. He is in every moment I thought I wouldn’t make it through—and yet somehow did.

And how do I know He’s real?

Because I’ve lived it. Because I’m still here. Because through everything, I was never alone.