A Mother’s Anger, A Mother’s Faith.

How do you find faith again after losing the one person you love most? How do you welcome God back into your heart after anger, grief, and despair?

For Jennifer Thrift, those questions are not abstract—they are the story of her life.

Her son, Private Tyler Eugene Duncan, was a smart, determined young man. He attended Reeltown High School, dreamed of serving his country, and at just 18, he enlisted in the U.S. Army. He trained in South Carolina, Oklahoma, and later served at Fort Lewis in Washington.

Tyler was strong, disciplined, and hardworking. His service earned him the National Defense Service Medal, the Global War on Terrorism Service Medal, the Army Service Medal, and the Marksmanship Badge. But behind the proud uniform and military honors, there was a hidden pain. Long hours as a cannon crew member left his back aching. The heavy lifting took its toll, and in a moment of vulnerability, someone handed him what he thought was a Percocet pill.

It was not.

On April 25, 2021, Tyler went to rest at a friend’s home, telling his buddy he just needed a nap. He never woke up. The pill he took was laced with fentanyl. At just 20 years old, his life was cut short by a counterfeit pill.

For Jennifer, the loss shattered everything. The world stopped making sense. Her faith collapsed under the weight of grief. She found herself raging—at God, at herself, at life, at the unfairness of it all.

“I was EXTREMELY angry,” Jennifer admitted. “I asked God why He took my son.”

Holidays became unbearable. Birthdays were cruel reminders of what was missing. And every April, when the anniversary of Tyler’s death approached, the anger surged with full force.

But about a year ago, Jennifer reached a breaking point—not in despair, but in a quiet decision. She began attending church again. She wasn’t looking for comfort as much as she was looking for answers.

“I needed to know that I will see my son again,” she said. “People always say, ‘You’ll be reunited someday.’ But I wanted proof. I wanted the Bible itself to tell me that promise was real.”

And so, she searched. She opened the Bible with trembling hands and aching questions. She asked God to show her what her broken heart needed. And little by little, verse by verse, she began to see the promises written there. Promises of reunion. Promises of life beyond death. Promises that gave her hope when she had none.

Her church family at Rock Spring Baptist surrounded her with love, patience, and gentle reminders that she was not alone. They didn’t erase the grief, but they stood with her in it.

Four years have now passed since Tyler’s death. The pain has not disappeared—it never truly does—but something within Jennifer has shifted. This year, for the first time, she said she did not cry every single day leading up to April 25th. That small change, she says, was not her strength but God’s presence quietly working in her life.

“I have seen the Lord do good things in my life this past year that has brought my faith back,” Jennifer whispered.

Her journey is far from easy. But each day now carries a little less anger, and a little more love. Each day brings new strength to celebrate not only the son she lost, but the 20 beautiful years she was given with him.

Jennifer knows the hole in her heart will never close. But she also knows that faith has stitched the edges with something stronger than despair—hope. Hope that she will see Tyler again. Hope that love is stronger than death. Hope that even the darkest valleys can lead to light.

And so, after years of anger, Jennifer Thrift has found her way back—not to the life she once had, but to the faith she once lost.

Her story is not just about grief. It is about how a mother chose to stand again, to believe again, and to love again—even when everything in her told her not to.

It is a story about a son who gave his all, a counterfeit pill that took too much, and a God who, even in silence, never left.