Who made that?

I was talking with my twelve-year-old granddaughter about how I know there’s a God, and I kept it simple.

I asked her to imagine walking along a beach and finding an iPhone lying in the sand. Not broken parts. A real, working phone. I asked her if she would believe that waves, wind, and time somehow turned sand into that phone through random evolution.

She laughed. Of course not.

I told her she would instantly know that someone intelligent made it—someone far smarter than either of us. Then I explained that an iPhone is simple compared to what’s inside her own body. DNA is an information code so complex that even today’s best scientists don’t fully understand it. Every cell has instructions, timing, and built-in error correction that all have to work perfectly. One small mistake and life doesn’t function.

Then I zoomed out even further.

I told her the universe itself is balanced with incredible precision. If gravity were just a tiny bit stronger or weaker, or if a few constants were slightly off, everything would collapse. No stars. No planets. No life. The margin for error is essentially zero.

So I asked her which made more sense—that all of this happened by accident, or that it was created by something unimaginably intelligent, something far beyond us. A supreme being. God, as we call Him.

She didn’t argue. She just sat there thinking.

That’s when I realized why this matters so much.

Because once someone truly believes, the real teaching can begin. Not memorizing verses. Not filling in blanks. Believing. If a child doesn’t understand why they believe, their faith is borrowed—and borrowed faith is fragile.

That’s exactly what happened to a friend of mine’s son. He wasn’t rebellious. He wasn’t stupid. He was raised Christian, attended church and Bible study, and came home after his first year of college questioning his faith.

Not because faith failed him—but because no one ever taught him the why behind the what.

I don’t want that for my granddaughter. Or for any child who can quote Scripture but can’t explain a single reason it’s true.

Belief isn’t the end of the journey. It’s the beginning. And if we don’t help them build a solid foundation now, someone else will be more than happy to tear it down later.