Can we prove that God exists?

Here’s the honest answer: no—not in the way most people mean “prove.” Not with the kind of mathematical certainty that leaves zero room for doubt. But before you shut the door on faith, it’s worth noticing something: we don’t actually live that way in any other part of life. We trust constantly, and we call it reasonable.

Think about how you move through an ordinary day. You sit on a chair without stress-testing it. You drink from a bottle without running a chemical analysis. You get on a plane without interviewing the pilot. Even when the stakes are high—like going into surgery—you don’t demand to see everyone’s credentials, sterilization records, and sobriety tests. You weigh what you know, you consider the evidence available, and you take a step of trust. That’s not irrational; it’s human.

So why do so many people suddenly change the rules when the topic is God? Why does “I won’t believe unless you prove it” show up here more than anywhere else? Romans 1:18–20 gives a challenging answer: it’s not mainly an evidence problem; it’s a heart problem. Paul says people “suppress the truth,” not because God has hidden Himself, but because we don’t want what His existence would mean. If God is real, then we’re not the center. If God is real, then we’re accountable. If God is real, then gratitude, worship, repentance, and obedience aren’t optional extras—they’re the appropriate response.

That’s why Psalm 19:1–6 is so striking. It doesn’t say the heavens whisper. It says, “The heavens declare the glory of God; the skies proclaim the work of his hands.” Creation isn’t silent. Day after day, night after night, it pours out a kind of wordless testimony that reaches “to the ends of the world.” In other words, God has built a witness into the fabric of reality.

And that brings us to a more helpful question than “Can you prove it?”: is there good evidence that God exists?

Start with the sheer existence of the universe. Why is there something rather than nothing? You can land in only a few basic places: the universe always existed, the universe created itself out of nothing, or the universe was created by an eternal, powerful God. Even theories about origins (like the Big Bang) don’t finally answer where anything came from in the first place. Science can describe how the universe behaves now, but it can’t step outside the universe to explain why there is a universe at all.

Then consider the nature of the universe. We don’t live in chaos; we live in astonishing order, beauty, complexity, and coherence. The world is filled with patterns that can be studied, laws that can be trusted, and minds that can reason about them. That’s not a small thing. If our thoughts are only accidental chemical fizz, why trust them—especially when using them to argue about ultimate reality? The very tools we use to reason make more sense if the universe is the work of a rational Creator rather than a purposeless accident.

But here’s where this gets personal. Romans 1:21 says the real tragedy isn’t lack of information; it’s that people “neither glorified him as God nor gave thanks.” That’s the turning point. Spiritual growth often begins right there—not with winning an argument, but with an honest response to what you already see.

So here’s a simple next step: stop demanding the kind of proof you don’t require anywhere else, and start asking for the humility to follow the evidence where it leads. Look at creation with Psalm 19 open. Read Romans 1 slowly. And most of all, investigate Jesus—because Christianity isn’t finally built on an abstract idea of God, but on the gospel Paul refuses to be ashamed of: “the power of God for the salvation of everyone who believes” (Romans 1:16).

If you feel even a small nudge to explore, don’t suppress it. Lean in. Ask your questions. Your soul is worth the search.