I’m ten years older than Jim. When he was born, I invited my friends over to see him. I beamed with pride as they oohed and aahed over his beautiful thick head of dark brown hair, almond-shaped eyes, and tiny fingernails. He was a real-life baby doll, and I took the responsibility of protecting him very seriously.

As a teenager, I took him to the mall, the movies, baseball games and camping. We spent endless hours together in the pool every summer. When he was a toddler, I taught him how to swim – he tightly curled his arms around my neck before mustering the courage to let go and he’d beamed with pride after swimming across the pool without a life vest.

Jim was seven when I headed off to college. By the time he graduated from high school, I was married and thinking about starting a family. Sadly, I didn’t get to see Jim much after that.

He struggled with drug addiction for 20 years, creating what seemed like an impassable sea of difference between us. I’d plan a visit, but often the plans dissolved because he was incoherent. I tried staying in touch, hoping for moments of connection, but even when we were together, he was never fully present. It ripped my insides apart to watch drugs squeeze the life out of him.

I’ve had a front row seat to witness the devastation that drug addiction has on a person’s life. I watched in horror how addiction steals, kills and destroys lives, families and relationships. I wanted Jim free from the wretched bondage of addiction, yet I knew I couldn’t make that choice for him. But I could choose to pray, and I never stopped praying for him.  

After receiving that frantic call from Jim in 2020, I flew to Pittsburgh to plan our sister’s funeral. With our parents deceased, my brother and me were all that was left of our small family; I needed him as much as he needed me. I had no idea, however, what condition I’d find him in.

Jim was standing in the cold on the front porch when I pulled up to his house. I ran to him, and this time it was my arms tightly curled around his neck, not wanting to face the deep, uncertain waters ahead.

We were inseparable as we pushed through the funeral and cleaned out our sister’s home. I dreaded the thought of leaving Jim alone for fear he would overdose.

At the time of my sister’s death, my daughter was battling stage 4 cancer and I was in, what I call, ‘Warrior Mode’ – I was fiercely praying and fighting for my daughter’s life. I said to my brother, “Come live with me and let’s fight for your life, too.”

A few days later, we sat next to each other on an airplane, and as it took flight, I felt an overwhelming sense of hope rise inside of me as well. I reached for Jim’s hand and squeezed it. “I love you, brother.”

Jim has been clean for over three years now, praise God! He has discovered life through a new lens and with a clear mind. He got a job, bought a car, has a cat, and now lives on his own and just received his second promotion at work. I am one proud sister; he inspires me every day.

Do you have a loved one struggling with addiction? I want to encourage you to never stop praying for them. There is power in prayer, power in love, power in choice. God can transform tragedies into triumphs. His strength is perfected in our weakness. When all we see are ashes, God sees beauty and possibility.

Luke 1:37 | For nothing will be impossible with God.

Wanna pray?

God, so many people struggle with drug addiction, and you know each one by name. Hear our prayers for divine intervention to break the chains of addiction for those in need of your transforming power.