What I Hope to Say

     One of our Griefshare exercises last week was to write a non-mailed letter to the person you are angry at about the death of your loved one. I cannot be too angry at the drug dealer without becoming more angry at Tracy, but this expresses what I hope I might say as a victim impact statement when, and if, his case ever goes to court. I will not use his name lest it would in any way jeopardize the case. 

 Drug Dealer: 

    I believe two things that seem contradictory by human standards. The first is that my son Tracy died because it was his God appointed time. The Bible teaches that. Ps. 139:16 says, “Your eyes saw my unformed body, all the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be.” The second is that Tracy died because you sold him, and he took, fentanyl poisoned drugs. The fact that God appointed March 22^, 2022 as the day my son would die, does not absolve you of your guilt for selling him the drugs that killed him. There had  been enough fentanyl overdose deaths already that Tracy should have known not to take them. Until then, he had been off drugs for six years. And you, who make a living selling drugs, should have known about the fentanyl problem. 

    As someone whom Christ has forgiven, I feel compelled to forgive you. I want you to pay the legal penalty for causing my son’s death, but I also want you to know Christ’s forgiveness. Otherwise, you will bear the guilt of killing Tracy for all eternity. I don’t think he would want that for you. Trace was very understanding of human frailty. The other contradictory thing is that God’s forgiveness does not remove the legal consequences of our actions. I want you to pay for what you have done and I want you locked away where you can’t bring this agony to another family like ours. 

    Tracy was six weeks from graduating from aircraft mechanic school. He had already earned one of his certifications. For 18 months he had been a top student in his class while working more than full-time as an auto mechanic to support himself. He was already a gifted mechanic and was planning to become a pilot as well. He had many friends, a family who loved him, and a good future ahead of him. God’s plans for him were different from ours, and better, but I want you to know something about the man whose life you took. 

   Until recently, I didn't even know how to spell your name. I don’t know you at all. I’m sure you have friends and family who love you too, and I’m sure they are suffering also because of this. That’s what sin does. It hurts people who don’t deserve it. But God forgives people who don’t deserve it, and I want that for you, in spite of what you did to my son, because of what God's Son did for me.