Geo

This may be hard for many of you to read and I know that because, as hard as it is for you to read, it is infinitely harder for me to write. 

I remember when I was 17, I was riding into town with my mom and grandma when my mom ran over a turtle, we heard the shell crunch, I cried out in sadness and my grandma said “it’s okay honey, that’s what the shell is for, it will be fine. It will just find a new shell” I turned to her to let her know I was too old to fall for her stories trying to make me feel better and realized she actually believed it. Like a 2-pound turtle could actually survive a 2-ton Chevy Silverado. I feel like the last month, and a half of my life has been that sentimentality on repeat with everyone I talk to. Let me explain…

My son passed away ten days before Christmas, suddenly and senselessly. My husband and I received the 2am phone call every parent fear to receive. “Your son is in the emergency room; he has a head trauma and there is nothing we can do except keep him comfortable until you get here” the hour and a half drive felt like it took days. All the scenarios playing in my mind.  The conversation with God, begging for a miracle, not him please God, not my son. The calls that had to be made in a car bound for the hardest moments of my life to each sibling that wasn’t with us. To his brother in another state working, his sisters who would be woke from their last night of peaceful sleep for years to come. Each call made with the same numb unsure voice, “Your brother is in the hospital, we dont know much but he isnt going to survive the rest of the night, come quickly.” The walk through the halls escorted by police, walking into a room seeing my beautiful boy being kept alive by tubes and machines will forever be etched into my brain. I sat on the bedside and the bargaining began.

“You can heal him, his story will bring so many to you when we share the miracle he received from you.”

“I will give up everything for his life, even if it means taking care of him for the rest of mine.”

“God, you are the ultimate healer! Show these doctors how its done!”

And the hardest plea, the hardest words I have had to utter to my father, “not yet, he isnt yours yet, please give him another chance to give his life to You.”

In those hours of begging and bargaining with God, we watched our boy fade. We listened to the doctors and had to choose between what we wanted and what he would want. We had to face the truth that not every story ends with a miracle we would prefer. There was no coming back from this injury, he was out of time, and the only chance at continued life was through his choice of organ donation and so we signed the paperwork honoring his gift. December 15, 2025, at 1338 my son was officially declared dead.

Immediately I began being told I would see him again, that he was in a better place, he was with God, and he was watching over me. Here is where I am going to lose many of you, I would be lying to myself and everyone I talk to if I agreed with those statements. Let me first say that I do not know where my son is, I am not God. I was not privy to conversations my son had with God, if any. I was not privy to the conversation had on that fatal night. I am only privy to the Word of God and His plan for salvation. I can tell you that I pray daily for God to choose to show mercy and grace to my son and daily I wrestle with the scriptures that cannot be denied.

I look around at the world, at the lines that have been blurred for our comfort and desires and ask myself how we got here. To a world where even “christians” don’t want sin acknowledged as sin. I sat in that hospital room listening to the sounds of the machines breathing for my son’s body, knowing and feeling that he was gone and his shell was all that remained and I wanted desperately to agree with everyone around me that he was in the arms of my father, but then I looked at each of his siblings whom he dearly loved surrounding him and I thought of the rich man begging God to allow him to warn his brothers that Hell existed and I knew that Geo would not want to risk them staying in a life ignoring the Words of God to make me feel better. I sat with my son in that room for two days watching friends and family holding onto him, crying, hoping, and saying goodbye and I could only hear my promise I made him so many times, “I won’t lie, not to you, for you, or about you” and this lie would be the easiest one I would ever tell if I chose to and the hardest one to deny.

From the day I lost my boy until this day I have wrestled with God, the scriptures, and my own selfish desires of wanting comfort over sharing truth. The bible tells us clearly that many will say “Lord Lord” and still be turned away (Matthew 7:21). Scripture is clear that we must profess Christ, be born again, and do the will of the father (Romans 10:9, John 3:3) and warns of the wide and narrow path (Matthew 7:13). God tells us clearly, we must live in obedience, die to ourselves, and no longer live in sin. Again, I am not God, I do not know the conversations shared with Him and G, but I know the life G was living. I know that he was raised in church, went to the camps and Wednesday night youth group. I know we prayed as a family, shared our convictions and belief in God, I know he studied the bible with friends and that he told me many times he wasn’t ready to stop “living”. G shared with me how he just wanted to have fun and enjoy life. I know he went to church and even took his girlfriends with him, so he knew the importance of God. I know that when we spoke about living with his girlfriend not being what God wanted, he said “yeah, but it’s not the worse sin” so he understood what sin was. Tragically, like many young people who cannot fathom life being taken too soon, my son thought he had time to choose God after he chose to live the life the world tells them is worth living. Only age and loss can tell you it really isn’t. As I read 1 Corinthians 6:9-10 my heart breaks that my sweet boy thought he was living the good life as he experienced nearly every one of those sins listed every day of his life out of our home, including the last night of his life. That scripture tells us those who live in those sins will not inherit the kingdom.

I will say one more time, I am not God. I do not know with certainty where my son is or where he will spend eternity. But, as I look at what is going on around the world, specifically our country, and see the blurred lines of what sin is and churches sliding the scale to allow comfort over truth, I have to be willing to get off the crazy-go-round and speak truth. It would be easy to talk myself into believing G is in heaven, that there is some loophole in the trauma he was put through as a baby and young child that gave him a free pass. If I did that, my testimony would be void. If I lied for myself but warned others that choices matter, that you aren’t born a Christian, that being a US citizen doesn’t automatically give you heavenly citizenship then I would be a hypocrite and would be failing my savior and my son. If G is lost, if he is going to be ushered into eternity without God, I don’t want to be one of the people who failed his siblings and friends and risk them following him into that place without a fight.

Yes, God is good, God is merciful, and God is Just. God gives free will and allows us to make the choice. Though God gives mercy to those He chooses to give mercy and compassion on whom He will give compassion we cannot deny he gave His son Jesus Christ and to deny Him is to deny God. This world is chaos; it points us to indulge and enjoy without worry that there will be a cost of doing such. We do not know when our time will be cut off, but we do know there is a court appearance when we pass, we know that God is the judge and Christ is the only plea that offers freedom and salvation. Just like that turtle who wouldn’t just be able to go find another shell to live in, we do not have a second chance of choosing God after we take our last breath on this earth, my son ran out of time but his friends and family still have some, and so I write………….