This is not a piece meant to be skimmed. It was written slowly and specifically, for everyone who has ever stood before life's hardest questions, and for anyone who wants an honest answer to them.
This piece has 14 chapters in all. Reading them in order is ideal, but if you'd rather jump to a chapter that catches your eye, tap it below.
People arrive at the same question wearing very different faces. Lives that look nothing alike on the surface still end up, in the quiet of early morning, reaching the same thirst. Here are seven stories that resemble real ones.
Thirty-seven years old, he has reached a position most people envy. He has most of what he once wanted, yet lately, right before sleep, an unexplainable hollowness rises up. "I thought I'd be happy once I had all this. Why isn't there anything after it?" For the first time, he admits his achievements were never the answer.
After suddenly losing her mother, she can't escape the question "why." Why does this happen to someone who lived a good life — does goodness even exist in this world? Words of comfort brought no comfort; what she needed wasn't an answer, but someone to simply stay with her.
Majoring in physics, he had long dismissed the idea of God as irrational. But as he studied how precisely the universe's constants are tuned to make life possible, a question settled into a corner of his mind for the first time: "Is this really just chance?"
Twenty-six, she starts every day comparing her life to other people's on social media. No matter how hard she works, she still feels like it's never enough — an anxiety that her very existence wobbles unless she's recognized. She has forgotten what she's even striving for anymore.
A junior in high school, her whole mood for the day hinges on a single number on a test result. Caught between her parents' expectations and comparisons with friends, she keeps thinking, "Am I only okay when my grades are good?" Everyone online seems to be doing fine while she alone falls behind — an anxiety that visits her every night. Young as she is, Jimin already stands before the very same question adults ask: "Why do I have to keep earning the right to be okay?"
After thirty years at the same company, he's suddenly afraid as retirement approaches. Once the title that explained who he was disappears, who exactly is he? For the first time, he watches the identity he built on achievement begin to crumble at the threshold of retirement.
He has gone to church since childhood, but it was only ever habit and culture — he has no memory of actually meeting God personally. He has recently realized his faith was made of nothing but knowledge and routine, and has begun asking again what it truly means to "know" God.
These seven people differ in age, background, and the shape of their struggle. Yet all of them arrive at the same place — a thirst that more possessions or more knowledge cannot satisfy. And interestingly, those who were honest before that thirst all tell the same story: the answer came not through information, but through an encounter.
Before diving in, let's first name the places where many people, without realizing it, stop short in front of this encounter.
Paradoxically, the more smoothly life is going, the easier it is to drift from this encounter. If you don't feel a need, you don't go looking. But self-sufficiency is often an illusion that hasn't yet been tested by collapse.
Many people close their hearts not because of faith itself, but because of wounds inflicted by people who claimed to represent it. That wound is real and valid. But a person's disappointment and the truth about God are two separate matters that need to be distinguished.
The more rational someone considers themselves, the more likely they are to dismiss faith as emotional and illogical before even examining it. But as we'll see later, faith doesn't oppose reason — it's an area that can be supported by careful argument.
This may be the most honest obstacle of all. Many people think that the moment they accept faith, they'll have to give up the freedom and enjoyment they currently have. But as we'll see, what people who have actually experienced this encounter report is the opposite — not loss, but a deeper freedom.
If even one of these four obstacles weighs on your mind, that isn't a flaw — it's actually an honest starting point.
We need to look more closely at what the word "encounter" actually means. Many people mistake faith for a religious system — a list of rules to keep and facts to memorize. But the encounter the Bible describes is fundamentally different from that.
Most religious systems share a structure in which the human being tries to reach a divine being through their own effort, discipline, and good works — keeping rules strictly, accumulating good deeds and merit, purifying oneself through austerity, making pilgrimages toward what is sacred. The methods differ, but the direction is the same: a ladder reaching from the lacking human upward toward the divine.
The picture the Bible paints is the exact opposite. In Genesis, when Adam and Eve sinned and hid, it was God, not them, who moved first. Genesis 3:9 "Where are you?" — God came looking first. In the story of the prodigal son in Luke 15, the father sees his son while he is still far off and runs to embrace him. Luke 15:20 Romans summarizes this structure: "While we were still sinners, Christ died for us." Romans 5:8 He didn't come after we became worthy — he came to us exactly as we were, unworthy.
That's why Ephesians calls salvation "not of works... it is the gift of God." Ephesians 2:8-9 Not a story of humanity climbing up, but an event of God coming down to humanity first — this single difference in order fundamentally separates religion from encounter.
Hebrew has a word for "to know" — yada (יָדַע). This word goes beyond acquiring information; it means to know through full relationship and experience. To "know" God isn't knowledge about God, but a knowing that comes from an actual relationship with him.
This encounter usually unfolds in three steps. The first is acknowledgment — accepting that there is a thirst you cannot satisfy by your own strength. The second is turning — laying down the answers you've been clinging to and changing direction. The third is receiving — taking hold of the hand God extends. These three steps happen in order, and sometimes all at once.
Scripture and church history are filled with stories of people whose lives were utterly changed by this encounter.
On an ordinary day tending sheep in the wilderness, he hears God's voice from a burning bush. A fugitive up to that point, he goes on after this encounter to live a completely different life leading a nation.
Avoiding the stares of others, she comes alone at midday to draw water and meets Jesus at the well. Before his gaze — one that knows her whole past yet doesn't condemn her — she runs straight to town to tell everyone.
Shunned by the townspeople for his profession, he even climbs a tree just to see Jesus. The moment Jesus calls him by name first, he sets down, then and there, the way of life he's lived his whole life.
On the road to Damascus, where he was going to persecute believers, he encounters a light and a voice. He goes on to preach the very gospel he once persecuted.
A young philosopher living a dissolute life is utterly transformed in a garden in Milan, hearing children's voices and opening a passage of Scripture by what seemed like chance.
Once a committed atheist, he meets a moment of surrender he never wanted, alone in a room at Oxford. He would later call himself "the most reluctant convert in all England."
A shepherd, a shunned woman, a despised tax collector, a persecutor of the faith, a dissolute philosopher, an obstinate atheist — what they share isn't specialness, but ordinariness, or even resistance. What changed them wasn't resolve or effort, but a single encounter.
Many people think you need perfect certainty before you can believe. But the stories of biblical figures paint an entirely different picture.
John 20:25 When he heard the news of the resurrection, the disciple Thomas declared he wouldn't believe until he saw and touched the nail marks himself. Jesus doesn't rebuke him for it — he comes to him directly and lets him touch his hand. Doubt isn't treated as the opposite of faith, but as part of the journey toward it.
Matthew 11:3 Even John the Baptist, who boldly proclaimed Jesus as the coming Messiah, sends messengers from prison to ask, "Are you really the one who is to come?" Scripture records, without hiding it, that even a confident person can waver in the face of suffering.
Habakkuk 1:3 The Old Testament prophet Habakkuk openly protests to God: "Why do you make me look at injustice? Why do you tolerate wrongdoing?" He keeps asking, refusing to give up until he gets an answer. Scripture never treats this kind of questioning faith as something to be ashamed of.
Faith isn't a state with no doubt at all — it's continuing to face God even while carrying doubt. It doesn't begin after reaching 100 percent certainty; it begins with the first step taken while still carrying uncertainty.
The change that comes to someone who encounters God begins not with circumstances, but with the way they see themselves. This change can be understood across three layers.
Many people measure their worth by achievement, appearance, or others' approval. Test scores, salary, follower counts, how fast you get promoted — these yardsticks lift you up one day and drag you down the next. But this standard always wavers. Someone who has encountered God gains an entirely different standard — I am not here by accident, but made to be loved. As the psalmist sings, "I am fearfully and wonderfully made." Psalm 139:14 No matter how performance rises and falls, this root of identity doesn't shake.
A life without purpose is like rowing a boat with no direction — no matter how hard you row, without a destination, all that diligence ends in exhausting waste. Within a relationship with God, a person comes to see that their work, relationships, and time are part of a larger story. This doesn't mean everyone must become a pastor or missionary. An honest day's work, patience toward your children, a small kindness to a neighbor — all these ordinary moments become a portion uniquely entrusted to you, carrying a weight that is anything but accidental.
Many people race toward the next stage of life — the next semester, the next promotion, the next house — without ever thinking about the final destination. It's like driving with the navigation on but no destination entered. Someone who has encountered God faces the future with hope instead of a vague anxiety about what comes after death. Each choice today is no longer just a scattered day, but a step accumulating toward a clear destination.
I am come that they might have life, and that they might have it more abundantly.
John 10:10Here, "life" doesn't mean mere existence. It means a life with identity, purpose, and direction restored — and, above all of that, a life anchored in relationship with God.
In the end, human beings are creatures that pursue happiness. College, careers, romance, even faith — for many people these are just other names for the longing to be happy. So the real question is this: what is true happiness?
The ancient philosopher Aristotle observed that every human action has its own reason, but if you keep tracing those reasons back, they all converge on a single point: happiness. We earn money, build relationships, and take care of our health — ultimately, all for the sake of being happy. Happiness isn't a means to something else; it is, in itself, the final end humans pursue.
The problem is that many people confuse happiness with momentary pleasure. Good food, likes on a post, a promotion, a new purchase — these certainly bring enjoyment. But that enjoyment is brief and soon demands a bigger hit. This is why, like K the entrepreneur from Chapter 1, getting everything you wanted still leaves you empty again afterward. Momentary pleasure is like pouring water into a bucket with a hole in the bottom — no matter how much you pour in, it never fills.
True happiness isn't given by circumstances — it comes from a state of the heart that holds steady regardless of circumstances. And Scripture clearly points to where the root of this unshakable happiness lies: in relationship with God. This is exactly the substance of the joy and freedom we're about to explore.
The feeling that a single mistake could collapse your entire existence usually rests on a belief that you must be perfect to be loved. Grace overturns that formula.
A life where your mood for the whole day depends on someone else's reaction is, in the end, a life handed over into other people's hands.
One of the great illnesses of the social-media age is endless comparison. Once you know each person was made as a distinct being, the person next to you stops being your measuring stick.
Fear of death and a vague anxiety about the future are among the most fundamental burdens humans carry. Within relationship with God, this fear doesn't disappear entirely, but it no longer rules your life.
Stand fast therefore in the liberty wherewith Christ hath made us free, and be not entangled again with the yoke of bondage.
Galatians 5:1This freedom isn't escapism. A steadiness that doesn't collapse in failure and isn't bound up in success — this is the real, practical change that encountering God brings.
The apostle Paul writes this letter from prison: "I know both how to be abased, and I know how to abound: every where and in all things I am instructed both to be full and to be hungry." Philippians 4:12
Paul uses language here that originally referred to secrets handed down in mystery religions. He uses it to describe the principle of contentment he discovered in Christ.
Faith is sometimes mistaken for a guarantee of material prosperity and success. But Paul made this confession from prison, in need. True abundance isn't found in circumstances — it's found in a heart that stays steady regardless of circumstances.
Another face of true abundance is relationship. Someone reconciled to God finds, without even trying, more generosity and a greater capacity for deep connection with others.
I can do all things through Christ which strengtheneth me.
Philippians 4:13True abundance is the confidence that you are already filled within your relationship with God. It's not a mindset you achieve through effort — it's a gift given through encountering God.
This encounter begins as an intensely personal event, but oddly enough, it never stays that way.
Many people treat faith as a secret matter just between "me and God." But every story of encounter in Scripture consistently leads to community.
It's hard to see your own blind spots alone. When you have people walking alongside you, you learn through each other's shortcomings and are restored through each other's comfort.
Community is not a collection of finished people — it's a gathering of imperfect people moving forward together. You may end up disappointed. But please don't give up on the encounter itself because of that imperfection.
Reading this far may have stirred up some reaction in you. Whatever it is, there's no need to feel embarrassed about it.
It's natural for this to sound overly idealistic. But being a good story doesn't make it untrue.
A completely valid feeling. It's worth distinguishing the essence of faith from the shortcomings of the people who practice it.
What's being discussed here isn't a particular religious culture, but an encounter with one Person: God. It's not a matter of temperament — it's a matter of relationship.
What people who've actually experienced this encounter report is the opposite — not loss, but a confession of having gained real freedom.
Looking at the encounters in Scripture, there was never a perfect moment. That encounter tends to arrive precisely when someone is least prepared.
None of these reactions are the wrong thing to feel. In fact, facing these questions honestly is the most important next step on this journey.
This is one of humanity's oldest questions. Rather than settling on one side in advance, let's look honestly at how different fields have approached this question — the voices in favor, and the voices of doubt, together.
The case for: Everything we experience has a beginning, and whatever begins has a cause. If the universe also had a beginning, that leads to the conclusion that a cause outside the universe is needed. This is called the cosmological argument.
The skeptical response: Some philosophers and scientists respond that time and causality themselves are concepts that only apply within the universe, so asking about "a cause before the universe" may not even be a coherent question. They also suggest the universe could have arisen without a cause through quantum fluctuations. This debate continues among philosophers today.
The case for: Gravity, electromagnetism, and other physical constants of the universe are set within an extremely narrow range that allows life to exist. Some see this precision as evidence of intelligent design.
The skeptical response: Other scientists propose the multiverse hypothesis — countless universes with different physical constants than ours — and we simply happen to live in the one where life is possible. This hypothesis, however, has not yet been directly confirmed by observation or experiment.
The case for: Cruelty and betrayal are seen as universally wrong across cultures. Some see this universal moral sense as pointing to a transcendent source that can't be explained by physical laws alone.
The skeptical response: Evolutionary biology explains that cooperation and altruism simply developed as instincts through natural selection because they raised a group's chances of survival. Morality, on this view, is a product of evolution, not a divine command.
The skeptical argument: Freud explained belief in God as a psychological wish-fulfillment — projecting a father figure onto the sky because humans crave security.
The case for: C.S. Lewis, by contrast, interprets this longing differently. Just as hunger exists because food actually exists, the universal human longing for transcendence may exist precisely because there's a real object to satisfy it. This argument alone doesn't settle whether the longing itself is projection or discovery.
The case for: The empty tomb, consistent testimony from multiple witnesses, the fact that the disciples later staked their lives on proclaiming this event, and the explosive spread of the early church across the Roman Empire are all presented as circumstantial evidence for the historicity of the resurrection.
The skeptical response: Some scholars propose alternatives such as mass hallucination among the disciples, theft of the body, or gradual legendary embellishment. Each of these alternative explanations, however, carries its own difficulties, and the debate continues among historians.
If all the approaches above point toward God's existence, why do Christians place such overwhelming authority specifically on this book, the Bible? Traditionally, a few grounds are offered.
Self-testimony: Scripture claims to be written by the inspiration of God. 2 Timothy 3:16 2 Peter 1:21 Of course, some point out that a book claiming its own authority doesn't automatically prove that authority.
Historical reliability and unity: New Testament manuscripts have an unmatched volume of evidence and closeness to the events among ancient documents. It's also considered remarkable that some 40 authors, writing across 1,500 years, in different languages and continents, still tell a single unified story of creation, fall, redemption, and restoration.
Its life-changing power: The countless testimonies of people whose lives were completely transformed by reading this book — like Augustine and C.S. Lewis in Chapter 3 — are offered as experiential evidence.
Honestly, though, Islam makes similar claims about the Qur'an, and Hindu tradition makes similar claims about the Vedas. So these grounds are persuasive to someone already inside that tradition, but from outside it, a separate argument is still needed for "why this book, rather than other scriptures." At that point, the ultimate ground Christians hold onto isn't the excellence of the text itself, but the historical event of Christ's resurrection discussed above. The Bible's authority ultimately rests on whether the event it testifies to is actually true.
Interestingly, the Bible says God's existence was never actually hidden. Romans 1:20 God's eternal power and divine nature are already clearly displayed through creation itself. The psalmist sings the same thing: Psalm 19:1 "The heavens declare the glory of God."
But one important point needs to be made here. No matter how sophisticated, all the arguments above can carry you to the conclusion that "God probably exists" — but as we discussed in Chapter 3, they cannot carry you to the place of personally knowing God. Evidence can only lead you to the door; opening it isn't a matter of argument, but of encounter. So the next step of this whole intellectual journey remains open — toward encountering God.
Apart from emotion, for those who need their mind convinced before their heart can move, let's go a little deeper. Tap each of the twelve questions below to open it.
The universe had a beginning. And that whatever begins must have a cause is one of the most basic ways we understand the world.
The physical constants that make up the universe are tuned with extraordinary precision to make life possible. Which explanation is simpler and more natural — chance, or intelligent design — is worth thinking about.
Human beings have a universal sense of right and wrong. This moral reality may itself be pointing to something that physical laws alone cannot explain.
This is the heaviest and most legitimate question of all. God isn't someone who explains suffering from a distance — he's someone who entered directly into suffering on the cross.
Love requires freedom. God gave humanity the freedom to choose, and much of the world's suffering is the result of that freedom being misused.
Scripture says suffering isn't the end. The hope that even suffering we can't explain now can lead to restoration and meaning someday is at the core of faith.
Among ancient documents, the New Testament has an overwhelming amount of manuscript evidence and unusually close proximity between the events and their being written down.
The Gospel writers didn't flatter themselves. The fact that the first witnesses of the resurrection were women, who had no social standing as witnesses at the time, is grounds for seeing this as an honest record that doesn't hide inconvenient facts.
Many religious structures consist of human effort to reach up to God. Christianity is the exact opposite — a story of God coming down to humanity.
Not being loved because you're worthy, but being accepted without worthiness because you were already loved — this difference in order fundamentally sets Christianity apart.
That experience can genuinely happen. The church isn't a gathering of finished people — it's still a gathering of imperfect people.
The standard of faith isn't how complete believers are, but Jesus Christ. Just as a rude doctor doesn't make medicine itself false.
Science is a tool for explaining "how," while faith is a question about "why." They don't fundamentally conflict.
A great many outstanding scientists throughout history have been people of faith, and often the more precisely people discover the universe's order, the more it leads them toward faith rather than away from it.
If you assume from the start that miracles are impossible, no evidence will ever change your mind. But if a being outside the universe who made the universe actually exists, it would be entirely natural for that being to intervene in a special way within its order.
If God proved himself overwhelmingly, that wouldn't be love — it would be coercion. Love always leaves room to be refused.
Scripture says God has already revealed himself — through the order of nature, the human conscience, and above all through Jesus Christ. What feels like silence may simply be us looking in a different direction.
The fact that faith brings comfort doesn't prove that faith is false. Whether a belief is comforting and whether it's true are two different questions.
The faith Scripture describes isn't simply comforting — it demands repentance and self-denial. If the goal were mere comfort, it wouldn't include such uncomfortable demands.
Whatever truth claim you consider, if it's true, competing claims can't also be true. This is simply the logical nature of any truth claim.
The heart of this claim isn't superiority, but grace. It's closer to "I couldn't find the answer myself, so I took hold of the one who came to me" than "I am better than you."
If the injustices of the world simply vanished with no resolution at all, that would actually be a more unjust universe. Judgment is ultimately tied to the hope that justice will be realized.
At the same time, God isn't someone who wants judgment — he's someone who wants everyone to return. The door is still open.
No. Thomas, John the Baptist, and Habakkuk all moved forward asking questions without complete certainty. Faith is the first step taken with direction set, even while carrying uncertainty.
All of this may sound abstract, so let's get more concrete about what actually changes in everyday life.
The reason you get up isn't a to-do list, but the fact that someone loves you today, too.
You find room to handle your work honestly, freed from the pressure that its outcome defines your worth.
Realizing that possessions aren't the source of security, room opens up for a giving heart instead of a grasping one.
One mistake no longer collapses your entire existence. Failure becomes an event that passes, not an identity.
You move from striving to be loved, to loving others as you are — because you're already loved.
Instead of fighting to prove who's right, the desire to restore the relationship starts to move first.
The grief doesn't disappear, but you no longer carry it alone. Hope stands beside the grief.
The assurance that it's a continuation, not an end, makes you live not more casually, but more seriously.
If you've read this far, a curiosity about the next step may have already begun stirring. There's no need for a dramatic beginning.
Among the four Gospels, John introduces who Jesus is in the most personal way.
No perfect words or formality needed. Simply telling him what you honestly feel today is enough.
Rather than searching for answers alone, sharing your questions with someone further along the journey helps enormously.
It's fine to just sit and observe with no pressure. That alone can be a beginning.
I hope this piece doesn't end as mere information. Everything explored so far has had one purpose — for you to experience that encounter yourself.
No grand preparation or perfect understanding is needed. Moses, the woman at the well, Zacchaeus, Paul, Augustine, and C.S. Lewis all met that encounter with no preparation at all. Right here, right now, you might quietly put the following into your own words.
God, I still don't fully understand,
but I invite you into the questions of my life.
I lay down my own attempts to find the answer,
and I ask for an encounter with you.
Come to me, and let me know true joy and freedom,
and the secret of true abundance.