Our new roommate, a recent RM and BYU swim team member, a young man who is articulate, handsome, from a great family, seemingly a guy who has everything going for him, told me Monday he is addicted to methamphetamines.
He said he had a cigarette laced with meth a year and a half ago. It was during his first date after coming out. He was a student at the "Y".
His life has been hell since that single cigarette. He never sleeps. He never eats. He is emaciated physically and spiritually. He looks forward only to his next hit or to death. Either, he says, will give him the peace for which he craves.
I suggested that life is not so bleak. I encouraged him to go home, get help. I assured him that God's grace was sufficient for all, especially for him.
He cried and so did I.
After a week here, he moved out last night. While he vowed he was moving in with a friend, I can't help but believe he is on the streets, another casualty.
My heart breaks for this son of God.
His supplier stopped by this morning looking for him. My heart breaks for him, too.
Wow. Just wow. Meth is a powerful, powerful drug. I have my own experience with it. I hope this kid gets the help he needs.
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