My brother committed suicide

My brother’s young, lifeless body lay on the cold floor of his apartment for over a week before anyone found him. Several questions went through my mind. Why? Was there no one he could talk to? And how was it possible that it took almost eight days for anyone to notice that he was gone? I felt terribly guilty. If only I had gotten to know him better. If only I had been able to give him advice and assure him that his life was worth so much. But the hard truth is that I didn’t know him. I had all sorts of photos of him from when I was little, but through a strange set of circumstances we had never met or spoken.

I am the oldest of seven children. Our biological mother was so poor that she couldn’t take care of me and gave me up for adoption before Paul was born. Another man with a drinking problem and four children later Paul was born. Due to his father’s drinking and drug use, the family became homeless and my brothers and sister – David (9), Sharon (7), Mark (5) and Paul (2) – roamed the streets looking for food. A pastor of a church gave their father money to buy food for the children. He followed him and saw him use the money to buy drugs. Their father bought one hamburger for the four children and forced them to share it.

You would think that things could not get much worse for them. But after the helpful pastor called child protective services, my siblings were taken from their parents and placed with foster families. The children were divided among several families and were moved from family to family, where they were physically, mentally, and verbally abused. During vacations, my grandmother would receive photos of the children with black eyes and other bruises. When authorities unexpectedly raided one of the foster homes on suspicion of child abuse, they found my brother tied up in a closet with a dog leash around his neck.

My siblings continued to move from one bad foster home to another. The government’s plan to find more foster homes had a negative effect. The extra money that was provided attracted people who took the children in only for the extra money they were paid. Despite this, many years later, most of the children were reunited, abused and in trouble, because a couple from New Jersey agreed to adopt them.

Our biological mother was a person on the borderline between genius and madness. Most of us were born with some of her intelligence and creativity. Paul was a bit slower mentally, probably because of his father’s drug use. I was 8 years older than Paul and although I had talked to all my other siblings (including the two born after Paul), I never met or spoke to Paul. He was the little brother who was protected by David, Sharon and Mark. He lived in his own little world. He didn’t fully understand many things, but he knew that his siblings loved him.

So why? Why did he commit suicide? He had survived childhood abuse and was an adult by now. He had a better life ahead of him. This question brought back memories of my own suicide attempts as a child.

I was fifteen and terribly alone. I remember listening to Pink Floyd’s album ‘The Wall’. After listening to the song ‘Goodbye Cruel World’ I grabbed a knife and slit my wrists. It wasn’t the first time. But it was the first time I ended up in the hospital.

I remember sitting in my room crying. Because I was very insecure I was very dependent on anyone who brought a little stability into my life. My grandfather, my only positive male role model, had recently passed away. My parents fought a lot and my father’s work and late night drinking made me feel very insecure. My mother often went out with friends, leaving me alone with lots of time to think.

I saw a world full of strife, hatred, anger, deceit, death, and violence. I was artistic and was often bullied by the tougher boys at school. I was popular, but somehow everything seemed superficial and I felt very empty and alone. I read the Bible and dreamed of going to the heaven that the Bible describes – a place filled with God’s love and peace, a place where everyone gets along. I remember begging God over and over to take my life and let me go to heaven. After many stitches and many visits to the psychologist, I decided to sit out the ride and stop trying to commit suicide.

Something happened that changed me completely. One night Jesus appeared to me in a dream. In the dream I was sitting on the beach and He was walking on the water. Jesus was wearing a burgundy robe and there were angels walking in front of Him. He looked as tall as a seven-story building. He looked right at me and waved. His eyes pierced me. I felt His love penetrate deep into my soul and my heart. His love washed over me like a wave. The moment we looked at each other I finally understood the love of God. At that moment I realized that God had a purpose for my life. I quickly knelt down to worship Him and suddenly the dream was gone and I was lying in bed crying like a little child.

For years I thought my life was a mistake. God doesn’t make mistakes. He has a purpose for me. Even if no one else loved me, God still loves me. Jesus Christ loved me so much that He was willing to die on the cross for me. Although He would use me to do things that would make a difference in the lives of many people in the years to come (including leading homeless services where Paul had been homeless as a child), He wasn’t interested in my talents or the work I could do. He was and is interested in me. He wants a relationship with me. God has blessed my life immensely in the years since I was converted. I had no idea how wonderful my life would become, and sadly, I would never have experienced those blessings if my suicide attempts had been successful.

Jesus loves Paul too. God had a purpose for Paul’s life. Sadly, Paul never found that purpose. I wonder if anyone told Paul about God’s love, or about salvation and grace. I have come to realize that God was with me during those times in my life when I was incredibly lonely. He held me when I was in the dark. When my heart broke, His heart broke. God’s heart is still broken for Paul, and breaks for every one of His creatures who thinks life is not worth living.