It is with a grievous heart that I acknowledge the death of Isaac Kappy and honour the God-given qualities that drew me to him.
When I invited Isaac to my home, I did so with informed consent. Many warned me not to, that he was part of an elaborate trap – which he unwittingly was. However, I felt compelled to do so. The Isaac I got to know over 2 months was not the person we saw on the internet. That was in part the actor, the pretender. The person my family, friends and I were impacted with was an intensely damaged, drug-addicted, moody, tantrum-throwing, attention-seeking pain in the arse whose emotional maturity appeared to have been stunted at about age 10 years. Many a time I was tempted to throw Isaac out – or throttle him. But my family would calm me and advise, “Just be kind. He’s here for a short time. You never know what he’s going home to. We have the opportunity to show him God’s love.”
It is evident from Isaac’s last words that he accepted Jesus into his heart just before he died. That fact has caused me more emotion and tears than his death because I thought I had failed in that department. I recall one time at the dinner table when Isaac seemed genuinely open to hearing about Jesus Christ. “Oh yeah, I’ve heard of Him. He’s a good guy, right?” he said innocently. But I was too angry at him at that moment to patiently and thoroughly share the Gospel with Isaac, and I was short with him. I regret that. I should have just left it to my husband to do what he does best and explain salvation to Isaac. So, when I received the barrage of early morning texts yesterday, informing me Isaac had “committed suicide,” I grieved for the lost opportunity to lead him to salvation.
But Isaac did not commit suicide. It is clear from the growing body of testimony that Isaac was murdered in the USA child trafficking capital of Arizona by opportunists who seized his last testimony as grounds for another ‘two bullets to the back of the head’ scenario. Was he thrown off the overpass? Was he ever there at all? Did military thugs shoot out his tyre and drag him to their nearby base for a dose of Seligman’s torture techniques?
Isaac did not go to Hell as I feared. A friend told me that Isaac’s salvation did not rely on that one lost opportunity, and that it was how I conducted myself daily that provided the main testimony. She is right. Isaac observed my family for the best part of two months. He was there when we said grace before dinner and gave thanks for him too. He got to observe my mother during a lengthy naturopathic consultation with her. He was there for my daughter’s ballet concert. I remember the look of genuine delight on Isaac’s face as he watched a stage full of young children stumble their way through their steps. And then at half time, he broke down crying outside, telling me how lucky I was to have a family, and how he didn’t want to be “a patsy.”
It seems I did not fail after all. It seems my family and I laid the seeds which others watered, others like the Christian who apparently conversed with Isaac as he was stranded on the side of a remote road, just before the pedo network seized him. I take comfort in testimonies like that.
The public have been left with conflicting images of who and what the real Isaac Kappy was. Some label him a Psy-Op, a DID MK-ULTRA plant, a patsy, a LARP, a fake, a bad actor, a user, a drugged hippie. Others hail him as a hero, a genuine whistle-blower against Hollywood pedophilia, a talented musician, an intelligent comedian. Isaac was all those things and more. He was easy to love, and easy to hate all at the one time.
But in the end, love won out. It’s so easy to judge, when ultimately no-one but Isaac and God knew what spiritual and physical demons he was battling. I always believed Isaac was DID, a victim like me, and that is where my compassion stemmed from. If only I had been a little more patient, a little kinder, I lament. I wish I could have had one more conversation with him or been able to see him in person again – after his conversion to Christianity. Isaac was the youngest of Christians when he delivered the most profound, wise, and mature Christian testimony in his final hours. His final words constitute Isaac Kappy’s greatest legacy. In that moment, God wiped his slate clean and accepted him into everlasting Paradise. And I look forward to the day I see him again, there in Heaven. Praise the Lord for that.
My sincerest condolences to Isaac’s family at this painful time.
Love, Fiona