There is something oddly peaceful about a hospital in the middle of the night.  The bright fluorescent lights are dimmed from suntan stun level to the homiest glow they can muster.  As I walk the deserted halls all I hear is deep breathing, soft beeping from some machines, and the steady hum of the air unit.  I'm thinking if I never see the inside of a hospital again that would still be too soon.  

Mikey's daddy is dying.  Very suddenly but also very slowly and painfully at the same time.  Mr. Johnson's past medical history is very complex and he is very fortunate that after 2 organ transplants he has lived an additional 17 years with fairly good quality of life.  It seems now that his body has just had enough and is turning against him for the last time through his blood.  It is amazing to me that here at the last he still knows who we all are, tells stories in detail about friends and family from the past, and is deeply concerned about our future once he, "goes home." He made me promise to take care of his "buddy." I only promised to not give him anymore gray hairs.  :) 

This has been a truly heartbreaking week.  Mrs. Johnson's quick diagnosis and death last Fall was tough, but this is worse if you can imagine that.  Mikey relies on his Daddy.  He calls him to ask questions.  They religiously discussed sports, especially racing, and they are both sickeningly in love with their iPads.  :)  When I had food poisoning last week, Mike slept on the couch while I puked my guts up and our little dog enjoyed my tainted chicken sandwich for the second time.  Less than a week later, I've witnessed the same man literally feed and help his Dad drink fluids since he can no longer do it for himself.  He has helped his Dad do things that most of us would blush even thinking about.  Mikey has gone with very little sleep or peace and had to face decisions this week that no one should ever have to face.  He has done it all without complaining and only letting his guard down in private.  I have so much respect for my husband's incredible strength and unselfishness in the face of such heavy burdens.

In typical fashion I'm trying to be strong and calm in the moment while I feel like I'm coming undone on the inside.  Aside from watching this physically and spiritually big and strong man slip away, it is soul crushing to me to watch Mikey endure yet another great loss.  I have to take long walks and get it out of my system.  Tonight I walked to the chapel.  Jesus and I ate a bag of baked cheddar ruffles sitting on the floor.  He listened while I cleansed my eyes and my soul for a good hour and after I was done He showed me some messages that other people had written to Him and left in the Chapel.  He was listening because these people were also discussing some of the very things I had laying on my heart.   

         

I begged for sweet mercy for Mr. Johnson and forgiveness for my ungratefulness.  Watching someone who is losing their life express how appreciative they are for material provision, of all the people they love or have loved along the way, and the second chances they were given (even those not taken) will convict and slap some sense into an ungrateful heart.  Lord, I've been living in a fog but I know someday I'll understand completely.  "For now we see in a mirror dimly, but then I shall know just as I also am known."  

Please pray for my sweet Mikey and for his Daddy.  I know many of you already have been, and for that I am truly, deeply, sincerely, eternally grateful.