Faith despite Trauma... Brother Edition
Thought a lot today about the relationship I have with my brothers. I unofficially have three brothers.
My oldest brother died in a motorcycle accident when I was a teenager. He was younger than I am now - that feels so weird to say. I was in high school, about 16 years old. I never got to know him as an adult. I think about him often, though, and spend time when I can with his now-grown daughters. I see him in them. I love him so much.
My second brother is a narcisist. I have now chosen to be no-contact with him, but he disowned our family after my father died in 2019 - and has, as far as I know, refused to say why. For years prior to that, he was emotionally abusive - doing things like leaving junk behind when he moved out of the house, saying he didn't want or need it, then years later claiming we stole it, blocking our phone numbers but being angry that we didn't call him about things, telling us to come hang out with him more because he misses us but being angry at us if we did, etc. His wife has openly supported this behavior, his kids have also chosen to walk away. He lies, cheats, steals (claims I don't make without proof, mind you), shames, gaslights, and only does things if he can benefit from it. I had to reach out to distant family members to contact him when my mother was dying of breast cancer. He only agreed to go visit her in hospice if my sister and I promised NOT to be there when he came. Neither he nor any of his family came to her funeral. I sometimes feel so angry about him, I could scream - but I am also thankful that I no longer have to put up with his bad behavior.
Finally, there is my third brother who is... technically not my brother at all. My sister and I refer to him as our adopted little brother, even though he never got the chance to meet our parents and is younger than my nieces. He married into the family my sister worked for and ended up working with her around the time that we were struggling with probate after our mom died. As coworkers, they became decent friends, and when he heard that we no longer have a living brother, he literally raised his hand up and said, "Can I volunteer?"
Since then, he helped us paint our house, supported us through the probate process, and devoted regular time to actually hanging out with us. He and his wife do regular movie nights at our house, hang out on holidays, ask us for advice, listen to advice we give, talk with us about job issues, send each other funny jokes and videos. We of course helped when he and his wife moved, and at the end of the day, he hugged us both, saying, "My sweet sisters". Conversations between the three of us sound so strange to other people because we easily finish each others sentences. We've all (his wife included in this, she's like a cousin or even another sister, I'm just discussing brothers at the moment) gone camping together, supported one another through health problems, helped each other with job searches, and more.
I bring this up because I am a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints, and sometimes I feel like people of faith, especialy my particular religion, are judged strangely if they have struggles with family or trauma in some way, given that we usually focus so much on family and togetherness. Believe it or not, trauma happens in my faith as much as any other, and just because I am a person of faith, it does not mean that I was sexually abused by a church goer or was deluded into following a cult leader. Like, really? And also no, I wasn't some old fart's third child bride. I find it sad that so many people will use my belief system as an excuse to deny that I actually had any trauma; I find it even more sad that so many people of my faith leave behind their beliefs because of whatever trauma they had. (I am not trying to discuss trauma from religion here, that's another ball of wax, lets all try to stay on target please.)
All that I say because for me, I feel like I have found more faith because of my struggles. I will not let my jerk 2nd brother have the power to make me feel like I am any less than the Child of God I know that I am. He does not have that kind of power, thank you very much. I've lost so much, I've been hurt so strongly, but I was also blessed to get something better than I could have ever imagined. I honestly never thought the biblical story of Job would ever feel so relatable...
But truthfully, here I am. I can't fully explain all the pain J2B caused me. Some of it is stupidly funny, other things are hiddeously cruel. Then I met my adopted little brother - I know without a doubt that him coming into our lives was an answer to our tearful prayers of frustration. We look nothing alike, but he's the best little brother I could have ever asked for. I know he may not realize it, but he really is such a blessing.
Because of him, I have such a testimony that Heavenly Father does answer prayers, He knows us better than we know ourselves, knows what and who we need and when we need it. And because I believe that, I of course have a strong testimony of the divinity of Jesus Christ. He loves us, knows us, and chose to die for us, so that we can be saved. He is our Savior, Redeemer, and our ultimate supporter.
So, let me take a moment to readjust my earlier assertion. Because J2B chose to walk away from our family, I do not technically count him as a brother anymore. That only seems fair, considering that he does not and never really has treated me like an actual sister. But I still have three brothers. One I am related to by blood, one I have chosen, and one gave his blood to die for me as part of a plan that would allow me to have the agency to choose.
