Today I tried to give blood at the PCHS blood drive. Last night I almost gave blood while driving. In both cases, not a drop was shed. Today I was disappointed, last night I was relieved. I guess that has something to do with how the blood would have been shed.
Today, I would have gladly given a pint of my blood so that others could have the blood they so desperately need. Despite the fact that my blood is worthy of such sacrifice (at least in my humble opinion), the Red Cross did not see it that way, and told me to come back in 18 months, when there would be enough time between blood donation and my former life in Africa. I have to admit that it is a little sad to really want to give blood, but be refused. I was not alone in this rejection, as I saw other fine people also being turned away.
Last night I was in a car accident on M-120 when another driver pulled out in front of me and I couldn't stop. The front end of my poor little Fusion was demolished, but my seat belt and air bag protected me well, and I went home with just a few scratches and bruises. The other driver was only slightly more injured, having a few cuts on his head, which is somewhat miraculous considering I hit him almost directly on the driver's side door. I did, in all honestly, ask the question "is this the end" in the 1.73 seconds between realization of impending impact and the actual collision. At the same time, I felt a strange sense of peace, knowing that I could be very close to seeing Jesus. But it clearly was not my time, and I'm grateful to have the continued opportunity to serve Jesus right where I am. That's because He made the ultimate blood donation, the one that paid the price for you and for me, and that gives us all the incentive we should ever need to serve others.
When we donate blood at a blood drive, it is an act of service to those in need. When Jesus donated his blood on the cross, it was the one act of service that gives meaning to all the others.
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