Just got some news from a friend requesting prayer, her Uncle died this weekend, possibly from suicide. That hasn’t been determined for sure yet.

This brought back a memory that I’d shoved to the back of my mind not wanting to think about the tragedy. I’m going to get out of my timeline a bit in sharing this, but I want to get this written down while I’m thinking of it.

My Uncle committed suicide when I was about 9. He’d never known God, and the only “christians” he knew were my parents. A few weeks before he died, he came to their house asking them to tell him about God. He wanted to know how to be saved! But, instead of telling him about Jesus, they simply told him that he had to go to church. He replied that he couldn’t go on Sunday nights because the races were on Sundays and he was on the pit crew, he had a commitment to be there throughout the season. They replied that if races were more important to him than church, he couldn’t be saved.

He hung himself in my Aunt’s garage a week or two later.