Another one bites the dust

So now Aaron Hernandez has been arrested and arraigned on murder charges and is awaiting a bail hearing later on. What amazes me more than anything about these cases is the shock and awe people have when a celebrity or pro athlete find themselves behind bars for crimes like this. When Steve McNair was murdered by his girlfriend in 2009 everyone was blown away, no pun intended, and the saddest of all was that he was a married man with a wife and kids. I never would have thought OJ would be capable of what he was convicted of. Who knew? God knew. God knows a man's heart. Just because someone has a string of platinum songs, or a storied and well-paid movie career, or is a gifted athlete and a star on the field, court, ice, or diamond, that doesn't mean they aren't a HUMAN first. Humans are fallen by our very nature. We are born with a sin nature. While it is very sad that another gifted athlete has succumbed to his arrogance and lifestyle, what is saddest is that a human life was taken and that people are shocked that another HUMAN BEING is the one that took the life. Our pop culture has exploded like a bomb and when people are more consumed with the antics of the horrendously over-exposed Kardashians than they are about making sure their children know about faith, God's will for their lives, their relationship with the Lord, Houston, we have a problem here. This is simply one more sign of the times of God's Church Age. The love of many are waxing colder by the day, and yes, even the rich and famous.

Looking through the eyes of love.

Every day I look at my husband, not only do I see love, I see hope. So many people have commented that we have been through a lot, and yes, we have, but there are others that have been through so much more, lost so much more. We don't live in a country where my daughters might be the victims of an honor killing or stoning for shaming the family. We don't live in dry, cracked land in Africa where I have to watch my child starve to death and take her last breaths in my arms. We are humbly grateful for all the GOOD we have in our lives, and there is much good to be had.

I see hope when I look at Mike because I am reminded that not only is God using him to hopefully show Himself to those that don't know Him, how he depends fully on God to get through each day, but I see eternity. I see the day where we will have the bodies that are perfect, healthy, strong, everlasting. No pain, no hurt, no disappointment, disease, abortion, murder, divorce, anguish, death.

I see that one day I won't have to fill a syringe at 9:30 each evening with 90 units of Lantus, a slow release overnight insulin to keep blood sugar from spiking in the morning, and give him that shot in his arm because his abdomen is covered in large purple bruises, bruises caused by a needle going through a blood vessel. I won't have to watch him cringe in agony when I've hit a nerve in his arm (nearly every stinking night). I see that one day I won't have to be in touch with my nurse angel at the doctor's office who helps complete the paperwork for the Kwik Pens and Lantus that keep him alive as a Type 1 diabetic. There won't be the need for testing his glucose levels. Diabetes is an insidious disease. Literally thousands of dollars spent on a little piece of plastic absorbs a drop of blood to find out where his glucose levels are. I won't have to wonder when I fell asleep at night if I will be awakened by "that voice", "Lori, I'm at 33." That's all that needs to be said and I go from dead sleep to running to the kitchen where I've learned to make peanut butter sandwiches and a glass of milk in the dark in 30 seconds and get them to him. The lowest his blood sugar has been was in 2007, at 2:00 a.m. it was 23. Normal is about 100. Twenty-three, he's sweating a river, he's incoherent, barely able to keep awake. His body is shutting down and all the glucose that remains goes to his heart and his brain. The after affects of this drop are excruciating. His body aches for hours because a nutrient was pulled out of his tissues and muscles to keep his brain and heart going. We keep a vigilant watch over his feet so he won't end up sitting in a waiting room with a missing limb because he had a blister that became infected and gangrene eventually took a foot and part of the leg.

One day I see that HE will see, with both eyes. They won't hurt, and there won't be any hushed voices telling him, "Unless I can see the blood vessel, there's nothing I can do at this point. It's six months to a year at best." Doctors see limitations. We see possibilities. We know that even if the eyes no longer see here, one day they will both see perfectly, sitting inside that perfect body that we will have once we are no longer tied to this world. When he asks me, at his most upset or desperate, "Have I done something wrong, or let God down? Is that why?" I can only tell him, "Someone else needs to see God in you. That person won't see Him on their own. You are God's representative. Show that person eternity in YOU." With all my heart I believe that.

Job lost EVERYTHING. Children. Home. Livestock. All his worldly possessions. He sat on the ground, surrounded by his friends, and a wife that begged him to curse God. Job refused. That book is so amazing to me because even after all the pain and loss, Job would not curse God. He KNEW there was a reason for this. Just as I know there is a reason for this. In the end, Job was rewarded. In the end, Mike will be rewarded, and it will be a reward of peace, of strolling through Heaven on perfected legs, gazing in through perfected eyes as he looks upon Jesus. He will look at the wrists of Jesus and be reminded that they bore stakes through them so one day Mike wouldn't be hindered by this shell that fails him by the day. No more pain, no more worrying about the leg, no more cocking his head from side-to-side to see through the blur in his remaining eye. THIS is what we live for.

Monday night, we came back from Woodburn and he was hungry. We went to a favorite little Mexican restaurant in Salem. We are developing a little shorthand, he and I. I position myself to his left and he puts his hand on my right shoulder and he follows me. Right now, everything looks like he's looking through ivory cheesecloth. Sometimes there is more definition but right now that's about it. The restaurant was dark, he was confused as to locations, it was a stressful dinner. As we came out the door to the parking lot, he panicked and started patting the air around him looking for my shoulder.

For reasons I'm only now seeing, my ADD has actually been a benefit more than a hindrance. I can multi-task like a boss, but I also think about five steps ahead of myself. That serves a purpose now. I have to think five steps ahead for Mike. As we left the restaurant and entered the light of a setting sun, I project our direction.

"Seven feet ahead and then we will turn left and head to the truck." We did OK until we came to the slope in the sidewalk where wheelchairs roll up and down. I stopped him and said, "Slope to the right." He lurched a bit and then grabbed my shoulder.

"I am so afraid! Nothing feels familiar, I want to go home."

It's all a learning process and I am going to need Job's patience as Mike will need Job's faith. I must have patience, he must have patience. I need to not flip out when he calls for me for the tenth time that particular day. He needs to remember I'm keeping a lot of plates spinning right now. Ali gets to go to the zoo tomorrow with her church group. She goes to church camp next week. She gets to be a kid and I'm thrilled for her because this kiddo has been to a LOT of doctors appointments. Just go and have fun and I don't go along on these events. She needs to be away from me and dad for a day and just have fun. She really is a great little girl. So much more patient and understanding than a child her age should be but then again, we could live in a country where she's buried up to her neck and stoned for not wanting to be married to an old man at the age of nine, so I guess it's all about perspective.

Heaven is going to be so incredible, and the very fact that there won't be glucose monitors, needles, insulin, twice-a-week wrap changes, eyes failing, that keeps us going. Even with everything going to crap in this world, especially BECAUSE of all that's going to crap, it's easy for us to keep pushing forward because of what awaits us one day very soon.

Tonight as we pulled in the driveway, he had a clear vision moment and noticed that a headlight bulb was burned out. These were expensive bulbs and after he called O'Reilly and I went and picked up the replacement bulb (thank God for warranties), I promised I'd change it in the morning. Not good enough.

He went out to the garage, got one of his brightest lights out, and felt his way through replacing the bulb. Afterward he sat on his stool in the garage and was so happy with himself for still being able to do something.

"I guess I still have some value, huh? I changed this by myself." You have NO idea how much value you are right now, sweetheart.