I tried to shield him from my mother, but it was nearly impossible. After about a week, my mother’s persistent efforts wore him down, and he reluctantly agreed to go out with her one night. I couldn’t sleep that night, knowing how manipulative my mother could be when she wanted something. So, I waited for them to come home. When they walked in, Hope was angry—so angry that he didn’t say a word and went straight to bed. I later found out that they had gone to a dealer’s house. The next morning, Hope was still angry. To mend things, my mother suggested that Hope and she take the kids to the public swimming pool. He agreed, and I could tell he looked forward to the family outing.
They hadn’t been gone for long when the phone rang. It was my mother, and she sounded distraught. She told me Hope had jumped into the water, hit his head on the side of the pool and sunk. The lifeguards who struggled to get him out and were performing CPR while an ambulance was on the way. Kurt and I rushed to the public pool, where we found my mother pacing anxiously, her eyes filled with fear. As the paramedics worked on Hope, I knelt beside him, took his hand, and prayed fervently. In that moment, I believe God was showing Hope mercy and giving him a chance to come home in victory.
Hope stopped using drugs after thirty long years of addiction. He stayed clean for an entire week, and he truly became a blessing to his new family. It felt as though the faithful prayers of his grandmother had finally reached him; now he was home and at peace. Knowing Hope, he was singing and dancing before the Lord.
This lesson was bittersweet; God blessed us by allowing us to witness Hope’s victory before he departed this world. Yet, I will truly miss his warm personality and our vibrant discussions about Jesus.
