Losing Tony, Finding Hope
How My Cousin's Death Taught Me Hope In The Midst of Tragedy
A few years ago, my cousin Tony died in a car accident.
He was young… too young.
He was on the cusp of marriage.
He was serving faithfully in youth ministry at his church.
He was full of laughter, full of stories, full of life.
And he was deeply loved…. by his parents, his sister, his cousins, his grandparents, and anyone blessed enough to know him.
When I got the call, it felt like a punch to the gut. It knocked the wind out of me.
I remember sitting in the shock and the grief, weeping, asking God all the questions you ask in moments like that:
Why?
How could You let this happen?
Where are You in this?
There are deaths that make sense in a sad world.
Tony’s wasn’t one of them.
Our family was wrecked.
My aunt and uncle were shattered.
His sister and closest friends were crushed, staggering through a world that suddenly felt all wrong.
And I couldn’t wrap my mind around the fact that someone so full of life, so in-love with Jesus, was just… gone.
I mourned the ordinary, heartbreaking things.
Like the fact that Tony would never meet my children.
He would have loved my son, Jack.
They would have laughed at wild things.
They would have wrestled on the living room floor.
They would have made memories that I now find painful to imagine.
For our whole family… there was this deep ache... a longing for what almost was, but could now never be.
A version of life we lost.
An empty chair at the thanksgiving table, where Tony was supposed to be.
At first in my pain, all I could see was the loss.
As I sat in the silence, asking why, I felt the deep sense that Someone else had sat in that silence before me. That Someone had wept at another tomb….
That Someone still does.
Slowly, God began to speak into the brokenness.
Not with easy answers, not with trite sayings or quick fixes, but with truth.
Truth that anchored me, even in the storm.
And even now as this pain continues.
The Reality of a Broken World
The first thing He reminded me of was the reality we live in:
This world is broken. Death, sin, and suffering exist.
As much as we try to avoid it, as much as we wish it weren’t true, it’s part of life on this side of eternity.
In Romans 8:22–23, Paul writes:
“We know that the whole creation has been groaning as in the pains of childbirth… right up to the present time.
Not only so, but we ourselves, who have the first-fruits of the Spirit, groan inwardly as we wait eagerly for our adoption to sonship, the redemption of our bodies.”
Creation groans. We groan.
Why? Because this world isn’t as it should be!
This world is broken… and death is a horrid, dark enemy that prowls the earth like a sick lion, threatening us all, and, at times, robbing us of our loved ones far, far before their time.
Death is an intruder. A vandal. A false prince draped in funeral black, pretending to reign where it only ruins.
It does not knock. It breaks in. It steals. It growls. It devours.
And for this, we groan, for we know it ought not to be so.
But here’s the thing: Even in the groaning, there’s hope.
The Hope of Eternity
The second thing God reminded me of was Tony’s faith.
Tony was one of the best people I know. Kind, hilarious, warm, outgoing… always willing to help a friend in need or offer a shoulder to cry on. He was well respected among his peers, not just as a “good hang” (which he most certainly was), but as a committed follower of Jesus who would go out of his way to love and serve others.
But Tony would be the first to tell you
He was a sinner, just like everyone else
He was saved by the grace of Jesus alone!
Tony was a humble man who knew how much he needed a Savior.
Yes, we had lost him… but we knew where Tony was. Not because of anything he’d done, but because of what JESUS had done for Tony.
Jesus had taken Tony’s sin, his brokenness, the weight of his humanity… and traded it for grace, wholeness, and life eternal.
And… throughout his short life, Jesus had amplified all the GOOD things He planted in Tony long ago… helping him walk the good path and be a light to others.
Tony walked the resurrected life, even before he passed away.
In John 11:25–26, Jesus says:
“I am the resurrection and the life.
The one who believes in me will live, even though they die; and whoever lives by believing in me will never die.
Do you believe this?”
We believed it.
And we knew Tony believed it, too.
That hope became our lighthouse.
It didn’t take away the storm. It didn’t erase the pain or the questions.
Rather than fixing the wreckage, hope handed us a rusty compass as we sat in the middle of it.
It reminded us that this wasn’t the end of Tony’s story … or ours.
The Promise of Redemption
In moments like this, I’m reminded of something C.S. Lewis wrote in The Great Divorce:
“They say of some temporal suffering, ‘No future bliss can make up for it,’ not knowing that Heaven, once attained, will work backwards and turn even that agony into a glory.”
I don’t pretend to fully understand that. But I believe it.
I believe that one day, in the New Heaven and Earth, every tear will be wiped away. Every wound will be healed. Every loss will be redeemed.
This hope isn’t just for Tony.
It’s offered to all. To me. To you.
To anyone who calls on King Jesus and surrenders to His grace.
Revelation 21:4 gives us this promise:
“He will wipe every tear from their eyes.
There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away.”
That’s the hope we hold onto.
Grief is a dark room…. yes, but hope is the crack in the door when someone turns on the light outside.
Living in the Tension
I’d be lying if I said it’s easy. It’s not.
I still miss Tony. I still wish he were here with me.
I wish we could grab one more burrito and laugh about something both dumb and sacred — like dating, discipleship, or the time I convinced him to perform a musical number in a lion costume for family camp. (To be honest, I didn’t have to do much to convince him.)
I still grieve the fact that he never got to meet my son, or walk further up into the life he was so excited to live…
But here’s the thing: I don’t grieve without hope.
1 Thessalonians 4:13 says:
“Brothers and sisters, we do not want you to be uninformed about those who sleep in death, so that you do not grieve like the rest of mankind, who have no hope.”
We grieve. But we grieve with hope.
Because one day, I’ll see Tony again.
One day, we’ll walk together in the new creation. No more tears. No more death. Just the fullness of life with Jesus.
I wish we could go on one more adventure… but I look forward to one day hiking together with him through the mountain and valleys of the new Heavenly countryside.
This life is merely a shadow. But praise God, the sun is rising!
There will be many more adventures to come.
This hope… It doesn’t take away the sadness.
But it leads to peace.
It reminds me that the story isn’t over.
That the Author is good.
And that the ending will be more beautiful than anything I can imagine.
As Paul writes in 1 Corinthians 15:26:
The last enemy to be destroyed is death.
Lord, let it be so.
Come quickly. Defeat death.
The last enemy will be destroyed, but the first trumpet will be joy.
And when it sounds, Tony will rise laughing.
Amen. That hope is the anchor of our souls
Beautiful.