Tears frequently flow in my office. Usually the tears don’t come before entering my office, though. I met Diane[i] in the lobby and all it took was a gentle introduction to start the flow of her tears. Her son, about my age, had died from a meth overdose a few weeks ago.

In every season, Diane prayed and cried out to God for him to rescue her son. She believed that one day her son would return to his faith. He never did so definitively. In his final days in the hospital, Diane begged her son to receive Christ and be baptized. He was in and out of consciousness. At first, he seemed to resist Diane’s faith conversations. Later, as he slipped away, it seemed to Diane like he gave indications through hand squeezes and facial expressions that he wanted her to continue reading scripture, singing worship songs, and praying. And then he died.

As she concluded her story, Diane asked me a direct question, “How can I know if he is in heaven if he was never baptized?”