By: Marcus King – April 30, 2025

I grew up in a religious family. My parents were devout Christians, and our lives revolved around church, prayer, and community service. I was taught that faith was the most important thing in life—that no matter what happened, God was always there to guide us, protect us, and love us.

But that belief was shattered the day my little brother, Sam, died. He was only 8 years old, and I was 15. It happened suddenly—no warning, no explanation. He just… passed away in his sleep. My family was devastated, and I remember feeling like the ground had been ripped out from under me.

At first, I clung to my faith. I told myself that everything happened for a reason, that God had a plan. But the more I tried to believe, the more I questioned. How could a loving God take away an innocent child? How could he allow something so tragic to happen to someone so pure?

I spent months grappling with that question, struggling with my anger and confusion. I stopped going to church. I stopped praying. I stopped believing. I couldn’t reconcile the idea of a merciful God with the pain and loss I was feeling.

To this day, I haven’t regained my faith. I can’t bring myself to believe in a higher power, not after everything that happened. And sometimes, I wonder if I’ll ever be able to find peace with that. I still miss Sam every single day, and I don’t know if I’ll ever understand why he was taken from us.

I wish I could believe again, but for now, I’m just lost.