I lost my brother a year and a half ago to suicide. We were born into a family of substance abuse and mental illness. He helped my world make sense, knowing every part of me. I learned the definition of alone. I checked myself into a hospital. It helped a little bit. I wasn’t a Christian at that point, but God was looking out for me. Some of the people in the hospital were Christians and told me to reach out to God if I ever I couldn’t go on any further. A few days after I was released from the hospital, I was in a really bad way, very lost. I intended on killing myself that night. I remember sobbing, sitting on the edge of my bed, contemplating standing on train tracks like my brother. I called out to God. “I’m ready. If it isn’t supposed to go down like this, I need you to show me in a big way.” Just that moment, 3 friends reached out to me. I ended up talking to one of them until I cried myself to sleep. I lost my brother, home, and job over a few months, but I’m here.