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To the addict still suffering

Yesterday, two men were found dead under the bridge at Pawnee & Broadway in Wichita, KS. Overdoses. Gone.

That was someone’s child. Someone’s father. Someone’s brother, uncle, cousin. They were somebody long before addiction took hold. They laughed, they dreamed, they were loved. And now they’re gone.

It breaks my heart so bad.

I know what that phone call feels like — the one where your family has to check and make sure the body they just heard about on the news isn’t yours. I put my own family through that fear more times than I can count. To every one of you I love who carried that weight because of me… I’m so sorry. It’s not a good feeling on either end.

But hear me: you are still here. If you’re reading this and you’re still in it — still using, still hurting, still barely holding on — this is for you.

We are all made in the image of the King of the Most High. That alone makes you someone. Addiction doesn’t get to rewrite that. The needle, the pipe, the bottle — none of it erases the truth that you carry the image of God Himself.

“So God created mankind in his own image, in the image of God he created them; male and female he created them.”

— Genesis 1:27 (NIV)

You were never meant to live like this. You were never meant to become a ghost under a bridge. You were meant for more — for life, for freedom, for purpose.

I know the shame whispers that you’re too far gone. I know the lie that says “one more time won’t hurt.” I lived in that lie for years. But there is hope on the other side of surrender. There is healing. There is a God who meets you right where you are — in the car, in the alley, in the bathroom with the door locked, shaking and desperate.

“The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.”

— Psalm 34:18 (NIV)

If that’s you today — broken, crushed, hopeless — He is close. Closer than the next fix. Closer than the shame. He sees the real you, the one addiction tried to bury, and He still calls you His.

To the families who are scared every single day: keep praying. Keep loving. Keep showing up. Your hurt matters too. God sees every tear you’ve cried wondering if today is the day you lose them.

And to the one still suffering… please hear this from someone who’s been exactly where you are: You don’t have to stay here. There is a way out. It’s hard. It’s humbling. It takes everything you’ve got. But it’s worth it.

You are still someone.

You are still loved.

You are still made in His image.

Reach out. Get help. Stay alive today. One day at a time.

I’m praying for you. I was you. And I’m still here — living proof that recovery is possible.

Keep going.

There’s hope

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