Jerrin’s Hope came about after the loss of my 16-year-old son, Jerrin Lee Hernandez, due to an accidental overdose of fentanyl.
About six months prior to December 21, 2023 (the day our sweet boy passed away), we realized that fentanyl had made its way to our front door. That was the first of three times I stood over him, fearing for his life. The first overdose was so severe we had to be flown in a tiny airplane to Cook Children’s Medical Center. That week was unimaginably difficult for our family. I had to be pulled away from him just to eat or shower. I watched him day and night, constantly praying over him.

Once we returned home, I began trying to learn everything I could about fentanyl. I searched for help for our son and quickly discovered that there was nothing available in our area. The few options nearby didn’t accept our insurance, required court orders, had poor reviews, and none were faith-based. I desperately wanted a faith-based program because I believe only Jesus Christ can break the chains of addiction. Eventually, I found a highly rated facility—but it was six and a half hours away. I was exhausted and broken, questioning every parenting decision we had ever made—was it too hard on him? Too lenient?

I remember calling “my person,” crying and screaming more than once, saying, “I can’t do this anymore. I don’t know what else to do. I’m done.” But the truth was—I was never done. I fought the world for Jerrin. I attended court hearings, visited juvenile detention, searched the streets when he ran off, drove him to intensive outpatient programs, and made sure he had counseling. He was in pain and trying to feel something different. We even drove him down to the out-of-town facility, but in the end, I just couldn’t leave him. We had a heart-to-heart with new rules and real hope. My husband questioned the decision, but he supported me—because I was emotionally shattered at the thought of leaving Jerrin behind.

To be clear: Jerrin was not a bad kid. He was kind, loving, loyal, smart, funny, handsome, and had a good, giving heart. He was simply going through a hard season. Two months after his passing, I was lying in bed, completely inconsolable and overcome with the worst pain of my life. That’s when God came to me and placed Jerrin’s Hope on my heart. As a mother of faith, I knew without a doubt that vision was from the Lord. A fire lit within me—to fight back against this deadly crisis known as fentanyl and to protect our youth and their future. I knew the only weapon strong enough to break addiction and generational curses was Jesus.

The real founder of Jerrin’s Hope is God. Our family was in no condition to stop anyone else’s pain—we were drowning in our own. But we never want another family to feel this loss. Our family has endured generations of drug and alcohol abuse. The only reason we’re still standing after all of it—especially after losing Jerrin—is because of Jesus Christ. It brings me peace to know the Lord has Jerrin. I prayed constantly for God to lead him to salvation, and to use him to lead others. At his funeral, our pastor lost count after 15 young people gave their lives to the Lord. God answered my prayers—not how I imagined—but His ways are higher than ours. I’ve had three beautiful dreams showing Jerrin at peace, joyful and resting in God’s presence.

That’s why Jerrin’s Hope must be faith-based. Not about religion or denomination—but about being like Jesus. We welcome all youth and offer a place free from judgment and shame. Jesus sat with the sinners—people just like us—and loved them unconditionally. He gave grace, love, mercy, and strength. That is our prayer for Jerrin’s Hope. My name is Krystal Lewis, and my amazing husband, Huery Lewis, and I are the co-founders—behind GOD. We pray that in ten years, Jerrin’s Hope will have helped thousands of families and brought even more souls to the feet of Jesus. Through prevention, education, community, and Christ-centered care, we believe our children can rise up, break cycles, and change the world.

“My grace is all you need. My power works best in weakness.”
So now I boast in my weakness—so that the power of Christ can work through me.