How do I know God is real? My story of wrestling with faith after my boyfriend’s death

How do I know God is real? In her story, Renee Batts wrestles with this question after a challenging season that included a divorce, attending a class called Divorce Care, and eventually meeting a man who seemed to be the answer to her prayers. When her boyfriend, Nick, passed away unexpectedly she was devastated — and left wrestling with her faith and belief in God all over again. Read more stories like Rene’s in our book.

By Renee Batts

Renee Batts was rocked with grief after her boyfriend Nick suddenly passed away. She found herself questioning her faith and asking herself: How do I know God is real?

My marriage ended in divorce just three months into my daughter’s life. I thought it was the most devastating experience I would live through in my lifetime.

I turned to God as I worked my way through long days and short nights alone, working full-time and learning to be a first-time mother on my own.

I started a class called Divorce Care and was devastated on night one when the pastors shared the concept that it takes five years to heal from a broken marriage. Five long years.

I begged God for a fast track to healing, I prayed for a new relationship, a man who would walk through life with my daughter and me. My patience didn’t hold and I started dating three years after divorce. Nothing stuck.

It wasn’t until — exactly five years after the divorce — that I went on a date with Nick. He seemed to check all the boxes and then some. Nick had a beautiful smile with dimples, he was tall and broad shouldered, and I loved his bright blue eyes. He was into Tae Kwondo and riding his Harley. 

And yoga. He was into yoga. I can’t leave that out, he rode around on a Harley with a yoga mat strapped to the back. He was flummoxed by the reactions that drew from fellow riders, which made me love it more.

I was convinced Nick was the answer to my prayers. We met in early spring and by mid-summer I was in deep. Each text, phone call and date was pure joy. 

Wrestling with my belief in God after my boyfriend died

Renee is pictured with her boyfriend, Nick. He died suddenly of a dissected aorta. His abrupt passing rocked Renee’s faith to the core.

By August that year, Nick had met my mother and I attended his family reunion. It was nerve wracking, but our relationship was progressing, and it was time.   

A week after his family reunion, we traveled to Kansas City with my daughter for Labor Day weekend. We stayed with my childhood friend, her husband and kids. 

Nick had hurt himself in the gym a couple days before we left town, so he was moving slow, but his spirits were high and he seemed happy to have joined us on the trip.

As we talked and laughed alone our final morning in Kansas City, his body seized up and in just seconds, he died. 

Suddenly, Nick was gone.

It was surprising, devastating, and it made me question everything.

I was full of anxiety the first two days. I was positive I had missed something. I blamed myself. I falsely believed it was my fault that I hadn’t pushed him to return to the doctor. 

An autopsy later revealed he had a dissected aorta, which began in the gym four days prior. He had been living those few short days on borrowed time. A formal diagnosis would have been incredibly difficult for anyone other than a specialist.

Slowly, the guilt subsided — and the flood gates opened.

For three solid weeks I could not be still. I was angry. I was devastated. My hopes and dreams were dashed and the God I believed brought this man into my life was silent.

I cried out over and over asking: “Why?” Why bring Nick into my life only to take him in such a short time? Why answer a desperate prayer coming from deep in my soul only to crush me by taking it away?

How do I know God is real? I wasn’t the only one to doubt.

Nick and Renee talk during a family gathering. Renee wrestled with her faith and questioned whether God was real while grieving Nick’s sudden death.

Without hearing answers during my prayers,  I started to search for them on my own. I picked up the book “A Grief Observed” by C.S. Lewis. It’s a journal of the author’s experience with grief and loss. 

As I read his honest experience and reflection, I found myself empathizing with Lewis. I was shocked to find this man whom I revere as a theologian had the same core feelings and questions that I did.

He also wrestled with God and asked himself: How do I know God is real?

Then Lewis asked the question in a different way. He asked: Is there a God at all? Did he exist or was all of this human contrived?

Suddenly, I was facing my own fears and doubts about my faith. I wanted to believe in God, but with Lewis’ questions, I began to doubt. How do I know God is real? Could I have been wrong?

I put his book away, and my grief became a much darker and heavier presence. Every morning as I woke, I had a few seconds of peace before a cloak of depression settled on my shoulders.

I had lost Nick, and now I was starting to lose hope, too.

Reaching out in prayer: How do I know God is real?

Renee questioned if God existed, asking herself: “How do I know God is real?” In her grief, God answered in an unexpected way.

Three weeks after Nick’s death, I followed the recommendation of a friend and found myself on a massage table. I was alone in the room, waiting for the massage to begin, when for the first time in weeks my mind was still. 

The question that still haunted me popped into the silence: 

“Where is he? If God was not real, what happened to Nick’s soul?”

My own internal dialogue was quiet. I felt no raging emotion and no tears. 

That’s when I heard a voice that whispered softly and pressed deep inside me. I heard a voice I knew to be God.

He whispered into my soul: “Today you will be with me in paradise.”

It was the verse Jesus said in Luke 23:43, just before Jesus died on the cross, when he reassured a man next to him — a man also dying on a cross — that he would go to heaven.

I sobbed for a long time. My massage therapist worked as I cried. I had questioned and God had answered. It was the confirmation I needed.

How do I know God is real? Because he cared enough about me to speak into my deepest pain and restore my faith.

I picked up C.S. Lewis’ book again and began where I left off. Just a few paragraphs from where I put the book down, Lewis explained God never leaves us in our grief.

God is a gentleman and will not force his way in. Until the raging, kicking, and internal screaming quiets in our hearts and minds, we can’t hear God’s loving voice. That was my experience, too.

This Labor Day marks eight years since God revealed himself in the midst of my grief. I would like to tell you my faith is rock solid, and I never doubt him. That I never questioned his divine presence, but I did. I sometimes still do.

I’m never without his guidance or love. Just like it says in Deuteronomy 31:8: “The Lord himself goes before you and will be with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged.”  

How do I know God is real? Because I’m never alone. God is with me. He never left.

Renee Batts is the mother to a gregarious and dramatic 13-year-old daughter who loves all things art, drama and music. Batts is a reformed journalist who now uses a combination of creativity and storytelling as a business strategist involved in innovation at Principal in Des Moines. When she’s not working or self-distancing, you can find her at Christian concerts that come within three hours of Des Moines; vacationing (or planning vacations) with family friends; and spending time with family.

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