I never thought another man could break my heart—especially when I wasn’t dating anyone. But that day came, and it wasn’t a romantic partner. This time, it was my brother. He made a decision that hurt our family—and now he’s facing the consequences. And just like that, my heart broke in a way, I never imagined.

It wasn’t the phone call with the news that shattered me.
It wasn’t watching my mom try to be strong.
The real break came when I looked into the beautiful, innocent brown eyes of his 7-year-old daughter. With worry on her face, my niece looked up at me and said,
“I miss my dad. I like when you’re here, because I feel like a part of him is here too.”

In that moment, I realized my brother’s choices had put me face-to-face with a version of my younger self. Just like my niece, I was once a little girl—worried and confused, wondering,
“When will I get to see my daddy?” I stood there with her… and all I could do was ache too.

I know I can’t change this. But what I can do is be here. I knelt down to her and said,
“This won’t be forever. We can still enjoy life now. Let’s go play.”

And play we did. We colored, she taught me a new dance, and we made pizzas.
But still, in the silence, there is this heartache we all carry.
This sadness—because nothing will ever be the same.

But maybe that’s the best part: Nothing will ever be the same.

Photo: My brother and I in 1990 something. 

My brother’s not his worst decisions.

He was someone I admired growing up—the cool one.
He was the reason no one messed with me in school.
I was bullied until they found out who I was.

“Leave her alone, that’s Rob’s sister,” I’d hear them say.

For the girls, he was dreamy.
For the guys, he was respected.
For me, he was my crazy, funny, big brother—Robbie.

There’s a memory that won’t leave me though.
It’s the day I saw him break.
And for him, it wasn’t a love interest either—it was his dad.

While my dad wasn’t around because he was in prison,
his dad wasn’t there because he had another family. And another son.

When Robbie was about 13, he was finally supposed to go see his dad. He was really into baseball at the time and he had a mitt and a ball. I remember thinking they were going to play together. But just as we were getting in the car, something changed.

His dad wasn’t coming.

I looked up at my brother—his head was down, and I could see the pain all over his face.
I watched him try to hide his tears, but he couldn’t. Watching him cry made me cry.

I remember thinking:
I wish I could fix this for you… but I can’t. I’m just a kid too.

We both grew up fighting.
Fighting back tears.
Fighting to be seen.
Fighting to be loved.

We endured a lot of abuse and neglect, but my brother got the worst of it.

When he became a man, he kept fighting.
He fought hard to be the father and husband he never experienced. He was doing well. He had a beautiful family, a great job, and a warm home. When his dad was in the final days of his life, it was my brother—the forgotten son—who cared for him. He even organized the celebration of life.

I was never prouder of my big brother.

But unhealed wounds from a broken childhood need to be healed—not numbed. 

Many of us spend our lives trying to numb our hurts with things that were never meant to heal us.

• Success
• Money
• Distractions
• Drugs
• Food
• Relationships
• Alcohol
• Self-harm

I’ve tried to numb with food and looking for love in all the wrong places.

For my brother, it’s been alcohol. Addiction has been a painful thread in our family’s story, and I’ve seen it get the better of many people I love.

But there comes a point when the striving has to end.
When we stop trying to medicate our wounds or fix ourselves—and finally make space for God to step in.

This is where fighting stops—because the battle’s already been won.

The Bible says:
“The Lord himself will fight for you. Just stay calm.” – Exodus 14:14 (NLT)

So many of us are fighting silent battles, and carrying unhealed wounds. But healing doesn’t come from numbing. Healing comes from surrender.

The Bible says:
“Come to me, all of you who are weary and carry heavy burdens, and I will give you rest.” – Matthew 11:28 (NLT)

Could It Really Be That Easy? To find rest instead of fighting? Yes, it is. I’ve lived it firsthand.

The night I surrendered to Jesus was the hardest of my life. I was 20, had a toddler, was pregnant with my second child, and was on the verge of being homeless. My prayer was simple: “God, if You’re real, prove it.”

And prove it, He has. My life didn’t change overnight—but my heart did. Instead of fighting to do things my way, I started to learn more about God and who He says I am. He is my Healer, my Savior, and the Father who never forgot us. 

He’s the Heavenly Father who saw every wound and broken promise that shaped the man my brother became. And He sees you too.

I Know God’s Not Done. Not with my brother. Not with me. And not with you.

Maybe this season feels like defeat. Maybe you're waiting in the middle of chaos, unsure of how things will play out. I believe with all my heart that this very season—the one that feels like the unraveling of everything you’ve built--this season will one day be the one you thank God for.

Because it’s this season where everything changed. This season is where you surrendered. And, it’s in this season that God showed you just how good He is!

He did it for me and I know He’ll do it for you!

Thank You God, for loving us too much to leave us in our pain.
Your Word says You work all things together for the good of those who love You—and that includes my brother, and that includes you.

So let Your will be done, Lord—not just in my family’s life, but in the life of the one reading this now. We trust You God, with our future, with the process, and with the outcome.

Better days are coming.

With love,

Your friend,

Rob’s little sister,

Reyna Reyna

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