I put John’s death certificate in our safe deposit box last week. As I type this, I once again think—I still can’t believe this has happened. John’s death certificate.
It took several months for us to receive it in the mail. And once we knew it was on its way, every day as the mail would come, it would be the same thing—heart beating a little faster until I saw that it didn’t come that day.
While praying through whether or not to actually write this blog, and if I decided to go through with it, I wanted to choose a name that would have meaning and would resonate with readers. So why “Waiting with Hope”?
Back in 2008, when John’s struggle with addiction had so overtaken our family, I was working through a Bible study that took me to Psalm 27. I had possibly read this Psalm at some point prior to this particular day, but on this day when I read verses 13 and 14, the words jumped off the page and gripped my heart.
The Wednesday before John’s physical death, Robert was out of town on a business trip. I was sitting on the sofa in our living room, where I usually sit when reading my Bible and praying, and I had a come-apart. This was certainly not the first time I had met with and prayed to the Lord in desperation, but this particular morning the weight of the journey of John’s depression and addiction was exceptionally heavy.
I read some, prayed some, cried some, and then began all over again for quite a long time. Near the end of my time with the Lord I was completely overwhelmed and cried out loud that this weight was too much to bear—“how much longer Lord will we have to watch our son destroy himself through drug addiction? How much longer, Lord? I don’t think I can bear this heartache and pain for even one more day.” I desperately pleaded with the Lord to intervene, to free John from the chains of addiction. But the Lord was once again silent—as He seemingly had been for years.
Waiting with Hope 