Help My Unbelief

My brother committed suicide by carbon monoxide poisoning in the fall of 1980. It was a gut-wrenching blow to my family. We felt as though our lungs had simply stopped working. We gasped for answers and ways to deal with the loss, the guilt, and the sense of abandonment. More than anything, we simply wanted my brother back. We wanted to place him in the center of the family circle and tell him how much he was loved, that his worth as a son, as a brother, and as a person made in the image of God could not be calculated. Instead, we were left with emptiness, a seemingly endless plunge into a bottomless pit.