Dad kept forgiving until my brother killed him.

Four years ago, my father passed away due to a tragic murder. It was my brother who took my father's life. My brother became addicted to drugs and alcohol when he was about fifteen years old. He progressed from drugs and alcohol to prescription medication. He became addicted to the drug Adderall, which was prescribed to him for ADHD. After a short period of time, he began to abuse the Adderall and would take months of Adderall in a weeks amount of time. What had happened was my brother and my father got into an argument when my dad went down to help him. My brother was hallucinating. They got into an argument. My dad went to use the restroom and when he did, my brother went to the garage and mixed gasoline and bleach together in a cup. When my dad exited the restroom, my brother doused him with the gasoline and the bleach in his face. And lit him on fire. When my dad was struggling for his life, he went out into the yard to put himself out and the neighbors came to help extinguish the fire. Dad wanted to pray. Dad wanted to pray for my brother. That he would turn back to God and get off the drugs. And come back to God like he used to. I will take the story back a little bit. Before dad ever went to help Ron, Mom and Dad sat in the living room in Maryland and prayed to God that whatever it took for Ron to get off the drugs and alcohol, that God would do that. Whatever it took. Little did they know, that Dads death would be what it took. My brother was sentenced to life in prison in Florida. The prayers continued from church members. From Mom and I. Family members. But recently, Ron’s been seeming to turn back to God. Jesus is what he needed to be happy and fulfilled inside. Even though he’s in prison. He writes letters now and he is saying “Praise God”. Thanking God that, you know, he’s still alive. That he has this chance now, in his right mind to come back to God. To ask forgiveness. Dad forgave him. We have forgiven him. We love him with all of our hearts. And God does. He never stopped. The gentleman who helped extinguish my father was actually a Jehovah’s Witness. And um, he calls Mom every day now. He’s like a six foot four, African American gentleman. Huge guy. Compared to me. I’m like oh Lord this guy. But he will call Mom on the phone. He calls her Mom when he calls her. His life was changed. He said. He said that just from the few moments that he spent with Dad, praying and talking to him that he wanted to know more about what he believed. In God and things like that. He wanted what he had. My dad was the person who would give his shirt off his back to anybody who needed it. To anybody who, you know, he would do without to make sure other people had. What’s it like to stand before God and hear the words “Well done thy good and faithful servant”. He would preach about that all the time. He would always tell the congregation that there’s one thing in life that he wants to hear. And it’s those words from God.